From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Thu,  3 Jul 2008 17:01:10 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: Only To Be WIth You (1/7) by Mack the Spoon
Source: direct

Reply To: glace_aux_fraises@hotmail.com


Title: Only To Be With You (1/7)
Classification: SXA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance.
Spoilers: Up to about halfway through "Without".
Rating: R, for violence and disturbing imagery.
Summary: A little AU. What if Scully found the ship with Mulder on
it, out in the Arizona desert?
Disclaimer: I don't own the show or the characters, except Carrie.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks to belsum for being an awesome
beta!
Archive: Just ask first, please.
Feedback: Oh, pretty please! I'd cherish it, really.
glace_aux_fraises@hotmail.com


~~~~~~~
Scully knew she was awake, but her eyes took too much effort to
open, so she stopped trying after a while. Her whole body felt
heavy. She concentrated on what she could feel and hear. It wasn't
much - there was a background sound of machinery humming, and
whatever she was lying on was hard and cold. What had she been
doing before this? Her mind felt fuzzy. It was hard to think. But
then she started to remember: Arizona. She and Skinner had gone
there, looking for Mulder.

And she had gone into the desert, on a hope that she had thought
was feeble at best, because Gibson Praise had said he could feel
Mulder nearby. But then she had walked into some sort of barrier,
something she couldn't see. The last thing she remembered was
rebounding off that surface, and then, somehow, moving through it
to the other side.

Her mind was still clouded, but the memories gave her enough
motivation to finally wrench her eyes open. It was dark. She was
in some sort of tiny room, more like an enclosure or even a cage.
Scully saw, with horror smothered by whatever drugs must be in her
system, that the place had barely enough room to move in. Not that
the paralysis seemed to be wearing off enough that she would be
able to try it.

The room had bars for walls, and she couldn't see the ceiling. It
at least looked like she might be able to stand, if she could ever
move. Unable to move her head, Scully looked to her right, and
thought she saw out of the corner of her eye someone else, a
woman, lying in an adjoining enclosure. There was someone on her
left, too. It was a man. She realized he was groaning softly. She
wondered if she could speak, but all she managed was something
like a cross between a sigh and a whimper.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. She'd been in a place like
this before, years ago, and once had been more than enough. And
yet... there was one thing that kept her from total panic. Maybe
what she had stumbled into, where she had been taken this time,
was where Mulder was. If he was here, too, somehow everything
might be all right.

~~~~~~~
She must have lost consciousness again after that thought. The
next thing she knew, Scully was on a table, still immobile. There
was a bright light shining on her, and it hurt her eyes. Machinery
whirred loudly, and there was a flash like from a camera, but she
could feel when the light passed through her. It caused no pain,
but her fear skyrocketed. What was happening? What was being done
to her? She moaned at the sudden thought that it might harm her
baby. And then her fear turned to anger. How dare they? This
pregnancy, unlooked for as it was, was a gift that she was not
giving up without a fight. She struggled to move as a rhythmic
thudding sound began around her, almost like that of an MRI
machine.

But all she accomplished was to notice that she was cold, as she
seemed to be covered by only a blanket. That seemed to fit in with
her scattered memories of the last time. Was this even the same as
the last time? Wasn't this - she still hesitated to use the word,
although she knew it was more than just possible - actual aliens?
And had she or Mulder ever known who it was who took her, the
other time? At least her thoughts seemed to be clearer now then
they had been, and she concentrated on moving. Still her body
refused to respond.

The thudding stopped, and there was a whirring as a mechanical arm
came down out of the darkness. It approached her menacingly, and
she frantically tried to recoil. Then a thin blue beam started
emanating from it, running from her head down to her abdomen. It
hurt wherever it touched. Her skin felt like it was on fire, but
as far as she could tell, it passed right through the sheet and
left no marks. Scully's vision swam with the pain, and she found
herself hating that all she could do was whimper pathetically
until she finally passed out.

~~~~~~~
When she woke up next and automatically tried to move, Scully
gasped in pain and shock. Almost her whole body ached, and her
head was pounding. But she was successful in turning onto her left
side. She registered that she was wearing something like a
hospital gown before closing her eyes again at the sharp increase
in pain that the move had caused. *I need to use this chance to
see what's going on,* she told herself firmly, and opened her
eyes.

The man in the neighboring cell was facing away from her. He
looked terribly thin in his own shift, and he wasn't moving. She
couldn't see many distinguishing features about him, but her
stomach dropped because there was something familiar about him,
all the same. *Could it be...?* Ignoring the spasm of anguish it
caused, she scooted closer to the bars. He stirred, perhaps
awakened by the noise, and turned slowly onto his back with a
sharp intake of breath.

"Mulder!" Scully cried. She would know that face anywhere, though
it was marred by three puncture wounds on the visible cheek.

His eyes flickered open. Her body went cold when she saw that
there was no recognition there, only emptiness. He didn't speak,
or even seem to see her.

"Mulder, it's me," she said, filling with terror again, but for a
completely new reason. *Please. Oh, please.* She couldn't face
this, on top of everything else. "It's Scully!"

At first, there was no response. Then, finally, the emptiness
receded and his eyes widened in shock. "Scully?" he whispered,
amazed, and when he turned his head to face her, she saw that
there were symmetrical wounds on the other side. Then his voice
took on a tone of torment, like he was choking back a sob. "Oh,
God, no, not you, too, Scully!"

She stretched a hand through the bars, hissing at the pain even
that movement caused. "Me, too," she whispered, smiling sadly.

He scooted closer and put his hand on hers. "Scully. You were
looking for me, weren't you? That's how they took you."

"Did you think I wouldn't, Mulder?" she asked quietly, almost
forgetting where they were in the joy of seeing him. "I had to."
She saw with anger that the wrist closest to her had an angry
wound in it, too, barely scabbed over, as if something had gone
all the way through.

He sighed, unwilling to argue. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer right away, but knew she wouldn't be able to get
away with sparing him. "No. They've done... some sort of tests. It
hurts to move."

He looked anguished. "Oh, Scully. I'm sorry. I'd hug you if I
could."

She smiled again, but got serious quickly. "Mulder, what have they
done to you? Your face..." She wished she had the means to heal
those wounds. "And your arm."

His expression closed off briefly. Then, with an effort, he smiled
wryly. "Well, it turns out there's more than a few ways to hold
someone in place. They're being - creative with mine."

Scully was aghast. "They're - they're holding you down with-?"

"Yeah, and they don't seem to have much use for anesthetic,
either," he added, grimacing.

Suddenly she had a flash of a remembered nightmare, and gasped. "I
saw it! Mulder, I dreamt about you. You were being tortured..."
She found she was crying.

Mulder gazed at her tenderly, stroked her hand, then moved closer
and put his hand through the bars to wipe the tears off her face.
"Shhh." He didn't say it was all right, but just kept his hand on
her face.

She put her hand on his, then brought it to her lips. "Why are
they doing this, Mulder?"

"I don't know," he said. "I thought it might have to do with my
infection with the virus, and that whole thing."

She still hadn't let go of his hand. "Yeah, that sounds like what
I saw, looking at those files with the Gunmen... after you left
for Oregon."

He laced his fingers through hers. "I'm sorry I left you, Scully,"
he said, in a voice that was almost unbearably sad.

She breathed in sharply, trying not to cry again. "You didn't
know," she said. "And, Mulder... there's something else you don't
know."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at her with deep concern.

But just then, there was a loud mechanical noise and a light shone
down on them. Scully couldn't see, but felt a prick on her arm and
cried out. "Scully?!" Mulder shouted over the noise, and tightened
his grip on her. She was losing the ability to move again, and her
own grip slackened. She couldn't reply either. "Scully!" Then he
yelled in pain, and she felt his hand ripped away from hers. A
second later, she blacked out.

~~~~~~~
As she was beginning to expect, when she woke up, she was back in
the testing room, and she was paralyzed. This time, she felt pain
in her abdomen and saw a needle retreating from her. This was
enough to bring on a full-blown panic, instantly. Of course she
had no idea what had actually been done, but there was no way it
was harmless. She tried to convince herself they were just
observing her progress, but even that would surely be for some
devious reason. Then she watched, shivering helplessly, as another
needle injected a clear liquid into the same spot. There wasn't a
lot of pain, but she was so angry and scared. She wasn't sure if
she could deal with learning that she was pregnant, past all hope,
and then something ruining that newly-awakened hope.

Whatever drug they had given her before kept her from being able
to look to see very clearly when two shadowy figures entered the
room behind her. She couldn't even be sure if they were human, but
they stood just out of her line of sight and she heard low voices.
There was what could be the sound of a keyboard, more muttering,
and then another humming noise started up, higher-pitched than any
other she'd heard. The back of her neck suddenly felt warm and
prickly, and she found it hard to focus her thoughts. But the
noise and the feeling passed quickly.

One of the figures took that moment to insert an IV into her right
arm. It didn't hurt as much as she expected, which led her to
wonder if they'd already done this since her abduction. This
liquid was clear, too - probably just the only food she was going
to get here, she thought. She hoped wherever Mulder was, they
weren't forgetting that for him. She couldn't fathom the cruelty
of what they had done to him so far, and guessed she didn't even
know or want to know the extent of it. They had to find a way out
of this. That kind of treatment would kill him before too long.
And her child - their child! This kind of stress could be fatal.

Yes, as soon as she was back, she would get Mulder to tell her
what he knew about this place, and they would plan an escape. Of
course the situation seemed impossible, but they'd faced seemingly
insurmountable difficulties before, together. And there was even
more at stake now, so they just had to do it.

~~~~~~~
She was back in the cage place, and she could move, although her
arm was sore from the IV. She turned to her left. The enclosure
was empty. He was probably being subjected to more of that
barbarism right now. She shuddered.

"Hey, where's your friend?" came a female voice from her right.
Scully turned. There was a woman, maybe a little less than her
mother's age, sitting up and looking at her curiously. Her eyes
were a piercing green, and she looked tired but clearly not
beaten.

"I don't know," Scully answered honestly. She sighed, and sat up.
"I assume They have him."

The woman nodded. "When you came, that was the first time I saw
him really take notice of anything. You two must be close."

Scully allowed herself the briefest of smiles, and she nodded.
"What's your name?"

"I'm Carrie. Carrie Henderson." She reached out a hand and Scully
shook it.

"Dana Scully. Do you know how long you've been here?"

"It's hard to tell, isn't it? Seems like weeks at least," Carrie
sighed. "And it doesn't get easier, I'm sorry to say."

"I don't doubt it," said Scully. She looked down musingly at the
IV mark in her arm, then touched her belly absently.

"How did you get taken?" Carrie asked.

"I was looking for Mulder," Scully said. "We tracked the ship to
Arizona..." she trailed off at the woman's strange look. "Is
something wrong?"

"Sorry." Carrie shook her head. "It's just - you must have known
how dangerous it could be, to actually go after the ship."

"Of course I did," Scully replied quietly. She met the woman's
eyes, somewhat defiantly. "But there was no other choice."

Carrie still had that inscrutable look. "Really?" She smiled
bitterly and sighed. "I guess I'd like to believe that kind of
love doesn't exist. Good for you, I suppose."

Scully was taken aback. She wasn't used to hearing people describe
hers and Mulder's relationship in those terms, for one thing - it
had been so long since she first realized that she simply
functioned better, was more whole, with Mulder around. She had no
idea how to react to the woman's comment, anyway. That was a kind
of skepticism she'd never really shared or even thought of much.

But the awkward pause that followed was interrupted, once more, by
a bright spotlight on Carrie's enclosure. "Oh, God," the woman
groaned.

Scully shielded her eyes while trying to see what exactly was
happening. "Carrie? Just - hold on, okay?" she called, over the
loudness. She could see what might be a robotic arm lifting Carrie
away into the beam of light and whatever was above them. Then the
light was gone, and she was alone.

With nothing else to do but wait, Scully found herself wondering
what Skinner was thinking now. Kersh was probably giving him hell
over having lost another agent. But she knew he'd be more worried
about the two of them than about what Kersh thought. He really did
care, even though Scully hadn't always trusted him and therefore
hadn't seen it for a while. She hoped rather than believed that
Agent Doggett wouldn't hinder him, because she knew he wouldn't
stop looking for them. She hoped Gibson Praise was safe, too. The
poor kid had been through enough.

She must have fallen asleep, because her troubled dreams were
disrupted by more machine sounds. The instant she realized it was
coming from her left, she was completely awake. "Mulder?" she
said, moving to the bars that separated them. She gasped at what
she saw.

He was sprawled as if dumped there, and there was blood coming
from his arms, and even in a line down his torso, that had soaked
through the shift he wore. That, at least, seemed to be dried -
whatever they were doing, they must not actually want him to bleed
to death. He wasn't conscious. 

"Mulder!" she said, biting back tears. He shifted slightly, and
groaned. But he was too far for her to reach him - she could
barely touch the arm closest to her. "You have to wake up, so I
can help you." She flashed suddenly to another time when she had
begged him to get up so she could help him, after other despicable
things had been done to him. She took a deep breath, trying to
steady herself. "Can you move closer, Mulder? Please?"

His eye flickered open, and he focused on her for a second
before they closed again. "Scully..." he mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm here, Mulder. But I can't reach you. You're hurt. I
need to bandage the wounds," she explained, voice carefully
steady, hoping that the sound of it would keep him from passing
out while still too far away. "Do you hear me, Mulder?" He moaned
again, and her heart squeezed painfully. "I'm sorry, I know it
must hurt to move. But you need to, okay, Mulder?"

He sighed, then, with obvious effort, rolled over and crawled the
few feet that were necessary, before collapsing again. "That
good?" he grunted, eyes closed but facing her.

"Yeah, that's good, Mulder," she soothed, and set to work tearing
a few strips from her own inadequate garment. It was awkward
working around the bars, but she bandaged his forearms as best as
she could, noting with some brief relief as she did that there was
a mark from an IV in his right. She wiped the blood on his face
off as carefully as she could, though the spots were clearly
tender and he flinched several times. The chest wound, she decided
she had to leave alone. His clothes were serving as a kind of
bandage for that, and to examine it further would be to risk
starting it bleeding again.

When she was done, thinking him totally out cold, she stroked his
face gently and wished she could kiss him. Since she couldn't,
though, she raised his hand to the bars and kissed that. Inwardly,
she railed against their captors once more - whether they'd
intended this or not, it was a perfect way to keep the two of them
from planning anything. Even if she continued to be left
comparatively unscathed by these procedures, she'd never leave
Mulder here, and she thought they probably knew that.

Mulder stirred slightly at that moment, and he opened his eyes.
The hand she was holding squeezed hers lightly. "Hi," he said
indistinctly.

She smiled tearily. How many times had they had this kind of
exchange? "Hi."

He looked her over, taking in the blood on her hands and her torn
clothes. "Too bad I wasn't awake to see that," he said, still
sounding like maybe his mouth hurt, and nodding toward the hem of
her clothes.

She rolled her eyes. "Not like you haven't seen more than that,"
she muttered in response. He gave her a tired smile. She decided
she needed to talk to him about at least one of the very important
things on her mind. "Mulder, I wanted to tell you something - are
you up for listening? It's important."

He met her eyes and blinked. "Yeah, go ahead, Scully."

She took another deep breath. "You remember in Bellefleur, that
night? How I felt sick?"

He nodded, looking concerned and guilty. "Yeah."

"Well, I went to the doctor's after you left -" she left out how
it had been the Gunmen who had basically forced her to do it -
"and they ran some tests."

"It's not the cancer?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"No, Mulder. I'm fine. More than fine, actually," she said. His
brow creased, uncomprehending. "Mulder, the test found that- that
I'm pregnant."

He gaped, and didn't speak for several seconds. "How? Scully...
Scully, that's amazing!" His eyes glistened.

She smiled, and it was almost without reservations. "I know. I
don't know how it's possible, but it's the truth. I wanted to tell
you, so badly!"

He sat up, grimacing at the pain but obviously discarding it, and
grabbed her hands. "Are you sure... is the baby okay?" He stared
at her, a mixture of emotions in his eyes.

"All the tests have come out normal," she said. "I was worried,
too." Then her face fell. "Of course, after all this..." Her
throat suddenly constricted, she trailed off and looked down.

"Hey," said Mulder quietly, and stroked her cheek. "We're gonna
get out of this. All of us." With his other hand, he touched her
belly gently.

She scooted closer, and they hugged as well as they could, around
the bars and with Scully trying not to hurt him any more than he
was. Then they pulled back enough so their faces were close, and
they kissed, faces pressed into the metal. That must have bothered
Mulder's injuries, but it was a long time before they separated.
Scully ran her fingers through his hair and made sure he wasn't
bleeding again. "So how are we getting out of here, Mulder?" she
asked softly.

He sighed. "It's not going to be easy. I think we're still landed
- the engine noise changes when we move. So if we can get out
soon..."

"Then we'd at least still know where we are - Arizona," she added
at his quizzical look. "Are there any weak points in this
enclosure?"

"These bars and the floor seem pretty solid," Mulder said. "Of
course, they come at us from above, so there must be something up
there - if we could ever get up there under our own power."

Scully looked up glumly, toward the ceiling. There were no
crossbars, so any kind of climbing would be difficult to say the
least. Especially in Mulder's current state. "But you're not going
to be in any shape to do anything that physical anytime soon,
Mulder."

He frowned. "It heals, faster than you'd think. I think if they
didn't do it so frequently, I could handle it better."

"Nobody can handle this," Scully retorted angrily.

"What about you, Scully? What are they doing to you?" he asked,
worried again.

She flinched involuntarily. "They... I think they're mostly
experimenting on the baby," she whispered, unable to keep the
tears from starting. That seemed to be all she could do, lately.

"Oh, Scully," Mulder said, voice almost a groan. "I'm so sorry."
He put his arms around her again.

"I don't know what they're doing!" she said, accepting the
comfort. "They could be doing anything!" She sniffed, then sat up
resolutely. "We have to get out."

"I have an idea about that," Mulder said. He glanced away shortly
before continuing. "They might not paralyze you right away if you
don't resist, when they take you. Maybe we can use that time of
transportation to look for any possible weaknesses or exits."

"Okay," Scully agreed. "Do you know how long we'll be here?"

"I don't, not for sure," he replied. "I don't think the ship
stayed in Oregon very long, though."

"No, not from what the Gunmen could tell," said Scully. "Not that
it really matters, as long as we're out."

He nodded, then sighed. He closed his eyes briefly, and put a hand
out to steady himself on the wall.

"Mulder, are you okay?" Scully asked. "Lie down, if you're feeling
dizzy."

For just a second, he seemed about to argue, but then he nodded
slightly and lay back down slowly, eyes closed again. "I'm sorry,
Scully, it's not that I don't want to keep talking. You're here
now, and now I'm wimping out on you."

"Don't worry about it, Mulder," she insisted. "You need your
rest." She wasn't really tired, but maybe she could think their
plans over some more and see if any other ideas came up.

He touched her arm, and said, "We *are* going to make it."

She nodded. "Yes, we are."

Part Two
~~~~~~~
She didn't receive any brilliant epiphanies. She agreed that it
would be good to be able to see, for example, the distance between
this holding area and the testing area, and what it looked like.
But she worried that even if they didn't resist, the bright light
would be enough to keep them from seeing anything useful. More
importantly, there wasn't much else she could think to try before
they tried Mulder's idea.

Giving herself a little break, Scully glanced to her right. Carrie
still hadn't come back, which Scully thought might be a bad sign.
Of course she didn't actually know how long the tests usually went
on, but it seemed too long for this one. If the woman had really
been here for even longer than Mulder, it was possible that she
would have some information that could help get them all out. Even
if she didn't, though, Scully knew she would at least be grateful
to have someone to talk to.

Mulder was fast asleep, and she wouldn't wake him up unless she
absolutely had to. His breathing was slightly more labored than
she remembered, and she wondered again just what had been done to
him. But there was nothing more she could do for him right now.
However, telling herself that did not make it less painful or
infuriating.

She realized her thoughts were going in aggravating circles, and
sighed. Was there anything that she had missed until now, that
would be constructive to think about? She allowed her eyes to scan
the enclosure for the thousandth time. There really did seem to be
no way out except through the top, into... whatever was up there.
She wondered idly how big the ship was, but immediately chided
herself for getting distracted again.

After several more fruitless minutes of this, though, Scully gave
up in disgust. She lay down, as close to the bars on her left as
possible, and tried to escape into sleep. It was easier than she
had expected, simply because of the comforting sound of Mulder
next to her. Right now, worrying and agonizing would do no good.
If Mulder could be optimistic - or at least pretend - after what
he had been going through, she would do her best, too.

A bright light woke her. Scully swallowed. Now was the time to
test their theory, she thought determinedly, and did her best not
to flinch or cry out as she vaguely saw a shadow in the light,
reaching for her. She turned, and saw Mulder also awake and
watching, quiet but face lined with worry. Then she was being
lifted away, and it was true - there had been no injection and she
was not paralyzed.

The light that went with her was slightly less severe, so she
looked around her. It was still too bright to see above her, but
she could barely make out some shapes below. The cage area seemed
to have been small, since it had retreated into the distance.
There were empty-looking hallways, not quite as dark as everywhere
else she'd seen, and small rooms that she couldn't get a good look
at - the angle was wrong, and she feared that if she twisted
around They would see that as evidence of resistance. Then she
saw, with an answering flood of adrenaline, that she had reached
the testing area.

She was placed on the expected table, and for a second, she
wondered whether escape could possibly be this easy, because
nothing else followed *and she could still move*. Breathing
shallowly, she dared to sit up and look around. There didn't seem
to be anyone in the room. She could see two closed entrances to
the room, and guessed based on her trip there that it was the one
behind her that might open into the main hallways.

But just as she was about to get off the table, amazed at this
stroke of luck, there was a sound behind her and then that high-
pitched humming started up again. Immediately her muscles went
slack, and she was forced to use any remaining control to lie back
down or risk falling. Her thoughts became fuzzy, just as they had
the last time, and the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably.

When the feeling passed, she was once again immobile. Of course
they had been watching. She'd been foolish to think otherwise, to
think that she would be given such a chance. And that damned chip!
It seemed they'd always have a measure of control over her, as
long as she had it. So she was helpless again. She tried to let
her mind wander instead of focusing on the tests and the pain, but
it was so hard not to dwell on what they were doing to her, and to
the baby.

They seemed to be variations on the same procedures that she'd
experienced before, although at least one of the things she
guessed was a scan seemed aimed only at her head, which was new.
For part of the time, she succeeded in going over in her mind what
she had seen on her way here, and trying to fix it as clearly as
possible in her memory. She felt like she had a decent grasp of it
after spending some time visualizing. Maybe hers and Mulder's
images put together could come up with a more complete map of the
ship.

The sting of an IV needle brought her out of her reverie. She
didn't know whether to hope that these people (or whatever they
were) cared enough to give her the right set of nutrients for a
pregnant woman. She hadn't felt hungry, though, so whatever it
was, was working well enough, she supposed. She was surprised that
her morning sickness hadn't been worse, considering her less-than-
normal nutrition here.

Finally, as she was beginning to feel irresistibly drowsy, the
needle was removed, and she dimly felt herself being lifted up
again. The paralysis hadn't worn off, so she couldn't summon up
the energy to try to fight off sleep as she was transported back.
She only dimly noticed being set on solid ground before falling
back asleep completely.

~~~~~~~
The next thing she knew, she could hear someone talking to her.
"Hey. Hey, Dana, are you okay?" It was a woman's voice.

Scully stirred, and sat up slowly and pushed her hair out of her
face. Carrie was back, finally. "Yeah, I'm... you know, I'm sore,
but I think I'm fine," she replied. "How are you? You seemed to be
gone for a long time." She glanced to her left, but Mulder was
gone now.

Carrie looked grim. "Well, I don't know what I did to deserve it,
but they decided to have an extra-long session." She was leaning
on the bars. "Worse than usual, in terms of pain, too. They even
put a needle in my back."

Scully frowned. "You mean, in your spine?" Carrie nodded, then
grimaced and put a hand to her head. "Are you dizzy? You should
lie down. Headaches and dizziness are common after a lumbar
puncture, and it sounds like They might have done that."

"Huh. Okay," Carrie said, simply, and lay down. "Are you a doctor
or something?"

"Yes, I am," said Scully. "I can't figure out why They'd need to
do that..." she trailed off. "But who knows why They do any of
this?"

Carrie sighed. "That's for sure. Uh, your friend - Mulder, is it?
He was waiting for you, but he said he didn't want to wake you
up."

"I slept through him being taken?" Scully was shocked and couldn't
help but feel guilty, too. She decided it must have been a side-
effect of something They gave her.

"Yeah," was the response. "He said I should tell you not to worry,
too." There was a hint of that strange bitterness in her voice.

"Of course he did," Scully said, giving a sigh of her own, and
most definitely not avoiding worrying. If he came back as...
mutilated as before, if that happened each time, she wasn't sure
how the two of them could deal with it.

"How do you two know each other?" Carrie asked. Her eyes were
closed but she sounded alert.

"We work together," Scully said. "We've been partners for more
than seven years."

"Is he a doctor, too?"

Scully smiled slightly at that incongruous image. "No, we work at
the FBI." Anticipating Carrie's next question, she explained that
the FBI had recruited her out of med school. Carrie asked a few
more questions, and then there was a pause. Scully spoke. "What
about you? What do you do?"

"I run my own business, an art supply store," said Carrie. "Or I
did, anyway, before I disappeared for however long it's been."
They chatted for a few more minutes, but subsided after a while,
both lost in their own thoughts. Scully remembered to remind
Carrie to take it easy, and be sure to lie on her back, and that
the head pain and dizziness shouldn't last too long. Later, she
debated asking if the woman had noticed anything that might help
in planning an escape, but something about her general attitude
put Scully off. Plus, she told herself, she didn't want to disturb
her rest.

But later, when Carrie opened her eyes and sat up carefully, and
seemed willing to talk, Scully couldn't put it off. "I wanted to
ask you something. Uh, Mulder and I are trying to..." she lowered
her voice instinctively - "We're trying to see if there's any way
we can escape." Carrie looked doubtful, but nodded slowly, so
Scully continued and outlined the truncated plan they had made, as
well as her own observations the most recent time she was taken.
"Have you been able to see anything that might help?"

Carrie laughed shortly and ruefully. "All I've seen is this place,
and the testing place. Maybe I noticed that there were some
corridors on the between trips, but that's it."

Scully nodded, trying not to be annoyed. "Well, now that you know
what we're planning, would you mind seeing what you can see, next
time?"

"Uh, sure," Carrie said slowly. "I honestly don't know what you
two hope to accomplish." She sighed again. "I guess we might as
well try, though. It'll at least make things more interesting."

"Thanks," said Scully, once again privately bothered by her
attitude. "We'll let you know... after I talk to Mulder, what we
come up with." She smiled politely, and hoped it was reassuring.

"Sure," said Carrie. There was another silence, more awkward this
time. Carrie announced that she felt dizzy again, after a while,
and rolled over and appeared to go to sleep.

Scully was left alone with her thoughts again. She wished she
hadn't missed the opportunity to talk to Mulder. She wished she
had any reason to hope he would be even close to okay when he came
back. And she thought she had noticed that the background engine
noise was different, so now on top of everything she didn't even
know where they were.

Her resolve not to despair was harder to hold onto the longer she
had only those things to mull over. Time was passing, and although
it was difficult to say how much, it seemed like too long. She
couldn't even think about what she'd do if Mulder... but no, he
would be back. It wasn't possible that so soon after having found
him, she would lose him again. That was just the fear talking. It
wasn't rational. It probably hadn't even been that long. She took
a few deep breaths and told herself to snap out of it, brushing
the ridiculous tears out of her eyes.

Somehow, she managed to get through, however long it really was.
The next event to break up the monotony was not Mulder's return,
though - it was Carrie being taken again. Scully found herself
more worried about what that meant for Mulder coming back than
what would happen to the woman. She scolded herself for that once
she realized it, and hoped Carrie knew that she did care what
happened to her.

But now that she was truly alone, all the worries came back full
force. If only there was something to do - Scully was used to
distracting herself with work when things threatened to become
unbearable. Eventually, much later than it should have, it
occurred to her that what she had done that time when Mulder had
been kidnapped from the hospital, when she had no idea where else
to look, was to pray. Though it was hard to find faith, and she
wished somewhat childishly that she had her cross necklace, the
ritual of it was comfort enough at first. After a while, though,
she was able to honestly pray, to relinquish control enough to put
it all in abler hands. In exchange, she felt gifted with a sense
of peace - it wasn't even that she now knew things were all right,
but that she felt sure that they would be.

Part Three
~~~~~~~
Her peace was shaken when she was forced back to the testing
place, and neither of her cellmates had reappeared before this. As
far as she knew, this was the first time they had all been gone at
once. The trip to the room seemed practically the same, as far as
Scully could tell, although she noticed more hallways than she had
before. She tried the same trick of distracting herself by
retracing it all during the experiments.

This time, though, her consciousness was of even shorter duration
than for the previous time, because the test included drawing her
blood. She passed out before they were done, in the middle of
wondering and being anxious over how much they were taking. When
she came to, she was back - but Mulder still wasn't.

Scully pushed down firmly on her panic, and turned slowly to her
right. Carrie had been returned. As Scully sat up carefully,
waiting for the lightheadedness to abate, she saw with horror that
the woman was sprawled like Mulder had been and that there was
dried blood down the center of her chest, too. Scully moved as
quickly as she dared over to the bars. "Carrie? Carrie, can you
hear me?" There were no other marks like Mulder had, but Carrie
wasn't responding.

She was breathing, that much Scully could see. "Carrie?" she tried
again, and the woman shifted slightly, then groaned. Her eyelids
fluttered, but remained closed. "What did They do to you?" Scully
asked, mostly rhetorically. She couldn't help wondering what made
her so relatively lucky, that she never had any visible physical
damage like this when the others had to go through it.

"Mmm, I dunno," Carrie mumbled in response, opening her eyes.
"Glad I passed out for most of it, though. Still hurts like
crazy."

"I'm sorry," said Scully sincerely. "I wish there was something I
could do to help."

"Thanks," Carrie sighed. "But I have something to tell you."

"What is it? No, don't strain yourself, you should rest," Scully
said.

"No, it's okay, I'll be fine," the woman insisted, though she was
still not quite alert. "What was it? Oh yeah." She took a deep
breath and let it out slowly. "I noticed... the test place, at
least the room I just saw, has some kinda ventilation thing in the
walls. I dunno if that's useful at all."

"It could be," Scully replied, thoughtful. "If it's big enough,
and it leads out of there... Thanks for telling me, Carrie." She
reached through the bars to touch her on the arm.

"Mmhmm," she said, nodding, almost asleep. "Don't forget me, when
you and Mulder break out, okay?"

"Of course not," Scully said firmly. And with Carrie shortly
asleep, Scully was left with the increasingly difficult task of
not panicking over Mulder. She moved so she was sitting as close
to his enclosure as she could, and leaned against the bars,
closing her eyes against the lightheadedness. She had a sudden
thought, though - if she were taken again, and could get out of
the room, she would probably stand a better chance of finding him
right now. After all, they had already decided that this wasn't
the place where they might be able to get out.

It was bizarre to hope to be taken again, but she started doing
so, with all her might. Maybe she could even make it out the door
of the room before they activated her chip. In any case, it was
far better than just lying here waiting for the chance to make
more plans. It was clear that they couldn't rely on having the
chance to talk to each other in this holding area.

Scully, almost excited now that she had something to focus on,
turned to tell Carrie what she'd thought of. "Hey, Carrie, sorry
to wake you..." She trailed off as she got closer and got a very
bad feeling. "Carrie?" She couldn't distinguish any movement of
her chest. "Carrie!" Swallowing, Scully reached through the bars
to feel the woman's pulse.

She didn't feel anything. "Carrie!" she said loudly, then swore.
If she could get in there, she could be doing CPR, but once again
she was helpless. "Oh, God." She had just watched this woman die,
and hadn't even known it. Suddenly nauseated, she crawled a few
paces and threw up. There was almost nothing in her stomach,
though, so she just heaved and shook until the spasms died down,
then scooted away and collapsed, exhausted. "I'm sorry, Carrie,"
she breathed. Her recently restored conviction already seemed
callous and hollow, and she curled into a ball, just wanting
everything to be over.

~~~~~~~
When the light came and the arm took her, at first, she had
trouble recalling if there was any reason to care. She saw that
Carrie's body was gone, and felt the depression and hopelessness
wash over her again. But before she reached the room, she
remembered: Mulder. She looked around carefully, suddenly hoping
that her captors had noticed her despair and taken it for a true
defeat. Thinking quickly, doing her best to put everything
together, Scully looked for a testing room that was different from
the type that she knew. Surely a place where they held their
subjects down like they did for Mulder would be different. But it
was so hard to see beneath her, especially without moving too
much.

Still, as she stopped and was being lowered, she thought she saw a
block of rooms that even reminded her of those nightmares she'd
had about what was happening to Mulder, back before she'd found
the ship. Determined, she allowed herself to be put on the table,
then waited only a second before pitching off it, heedless of her
physical weakness. She was out the door that she'd noticed the
other time before she had time to realize that her head was
pounding and her legs didn't seem quite up to supporting her
weight.

There was the sound of what could be voices behind her, and she
thought she heard the whine of that machine that was hooked up to
her chip, so she turned right, toward where she thought she had
seen those rooms, and ran. The back of her neck grew warm, but she
gritted her teeth and refused to let the lassitude take over.
Encouraged by the fact that she seemed out of range, she scanned
each passing doorway, thinking every second that someone or
something was going to jump out and drag her back to her own
testing room.

Just then, her fears were confirmed. A voice called from behind
her, "Agent Scully, stop! You know there is no way you can
escape." She didn't turn, but thought she recognized the voice of
the creature she'd come to know as an alien bounty hunter. Heart
thudding, she ducked into the next doorway she came to. Had he
seen where she went? The voice hadn't sounded all that close.

She concentrated on breathing as quietly as possible. She seemed
to be in an unused storage room of some sort, dark, with mostly
empty shelves. If he only hadn't seen her... Just to be safe, she
looked for something she could use as a weapon. Of course, she
would have to be extra careful trying that, too - it would have to
be sharp, and she would have to aim for the back of his neck.

"We don't want to harm you or the child," came his voice again,
closer this time, "but you are risking both by these actions."

Scully's frantic glance had come to rest on a large empty syringe.
The needle looked like it could do some damage. Quietly, and
staying out of sight of the doorway, she grabbed it off the shelf
and pressed herself up against the wall to the left of the door.
She raised her arm and grasped the syringe. If he came through,
she would be ready.

Almost not breathing, she heard him approach. She steeled herself,
but the footsteps went by. It was at least a minute before she
allowed herself to let out her indrawn breath, and several minutes
more before she considered moving. She eased out the door, still
clenching the syringe, and walked quickly down the hall. But she
stopped suddenly, indecisive. If Mulder was anywhere near as badly
hurt as he had been before, more supplies would be good.

She half-ran back to the closet, trying not to notice how much she
was relying on adrenaline to keep herself upright and moving.
There were a few gowns on the shelves, and they seemed relatively
clean. They would have to do for bandages. She put them over an
arm and headed back out, alert throughout for any sign of the
bounty hunter's return.

The emptiness and silence of the place was extremely unnerving.
Scully had the feeling that few humans, if any, ever walked these
halls. She must stand out hugely if anyone was watching. But she
was approaching another bank of rooms, and it looked like where
she thought Mulder might be. She peered into the first one she
came to. It was almost totally dark, and seemed empty. So she
moved onto the next one -

- and drew back in shock and horror. There were several people, or
things, around whoever was held there in that nightmarish chair.
But she didn't think anyone had seen her look. Certainly there
were no sounds of alarm from inside. Taking a deep breath, she
looked around the door again slowly. Two of the figures were
shape-shifters, bounty hunters. She had no idea if either of them
were the one that had pursued her - it was impossible to tell them
apart. She supposed it was unlikely, though, since that one was
probably still looking for her. The other in the room was too
shadowed for her to make out, standing behind the shape-shifters.
They exchanged words that Scully couldn't hear. She stared at the
person in the chair. It was a large room, and she couldn't be
entirely sure, but she wasn't going to leave because it could be
Mulder.

*If it is Mulder, they've headed me off, and it's a trap,* Scully
thought. She had the one weapon, but that wasn't going to be
anywhere near enough to fight two or possibly three off. Maybe she
could wait them out? Would they be fooled into thinking she had
hidden somewhere, and hadn't come for Mulder right away?

She pulled away from the door and thought hard. Finally, she
decided that she should try waiting, for at least a little while.
The best case scenario would be that her ruse worked, and the
worst case (other than being captured again) would be that she
would have to charge in there anyway. She tried not to think about
how she was delaying helping Mulder, and instead told herself that
this way she might avoid being captured or hurt - and thereby stay
able to help him.

First, though, she quickly passed the doorway to check the other
rooms. It was as she had thought: the others were empty, so the
occupied room must be Mulder's. Abruptly exhausted, she didn't
stop herself from sinking to the floor against the wall in one of
the adjoining rooms. She stayed close to the door but out of
sight, so she could look out the doorway and see if anyone left
Mulder's room.

The waiting was dreadful. Allowing herself to relax physically
even as little as she had, especially in a dark room, made her
feel how tired she was, even through her gnawing worry. She had to
wrench herself awake several times, and each time she would get up
to check that the situation hadn't changed. The third time this
happened, she decided that sitting down wasn't an option anymore,
particularly when her check revealed that the possibly not-shape-
shifter member of the group had vanished. Since there was only one
way into the room that Scully could see, she knew he must have
slipped past her while she was asleep, though it galled her to
realize that.

She remained standing when she went back to the adjoining room,
and wondered how much time had gone by. She feared that she would
have to act soon, if only because waiting wasn't working. At least
now it seemed she'd have less to face when she attacked. She paced
back and forth for a few minutes, unsure. The sounds of
conversation in the room grew closer, and she pressed herself
against the wall, to listen and be as out of sight as possible.
Someone was exiting the room, and she heard the alien's voice
clearly say, "If she is hiding near where we lost track of her, I
will find her." Then footsteps led away back down the hall she had
come from.

Her idea had worked - partially, anyway, it seemed. Now that there
was only one bounty hunter guarding Mulder, she had to go for it.
When she looked around and in this time, it was to judge how she
could sneak in and get close enough to attack without the creature
noticing her first. She nearly blew the whole thing right away,
though, because he was facing her and seemed to have seen
something in the doorway. She heard him come closer, and he asked
challengingly if anyone was there. Scully quickly went back and
crouched in the next room, heart pounding.

But he evidently decided it was nothing, and then Scully realized
with startling clarity that she had to act now - he would have
turned with his back facing her, and he would still be close. She
said a quick, wordless prayer, set down the clothes, and stood up,
tightening her grip on the syringe. Then she whirled around the
corner and ran the few steps it took to catch up to the alien
bounty hunter, aiming for the back of the neck.

She saw that he was starting to turn, and changed course, finally
reaching him and pulling down on one shoulder with one arm and
jabbing with the other. He cried out and pushed at her, his
inhuman strength sending her reeling away. But then he fell to the
ground, eyes staring in surprise. Scully breathed heavily and
watched as the figure melted away into the expected green goo. Her
eyes closed in brief relief, and then she went back and grabbed
the clothes before running to the chair in the middle of the room.
"Mulder?" she asked, as she came close.

Still attached in various atrocious ways to the chair, he made no
response. Though she hadn't been able to avoid imagining what
seeing him here would be like, this was far more wrenching than
she could have pictured. She touched his face gently, avoiding the
areas where the metal pulled cruelly at his cheeks. "Mulder..."
she said urgently, once again strongly reminded of that day in the
Department of Justice when she was rescuing him after his unwanted
brain surgery. But this was so much worse. She brought her mind
back to the vital issue at hand. "Mulder, tell me how to get you
out of this thing." She looked around it frantically for some sort
of controls, a release button.

His eyelids fluttered, and he grunted. He muttered something,
distorted because of the unnatural position of his mouth. It
sounded like her name.

"That's right, Mulder, I'm here," she replied, voice trembling,
holding back tears with effort. "I'm trying to get you out of
here." She stroked his hand, then continued her search. Just when
she was beginning to panic and despair that it was all done
remotely, she saw something a few feet away, to the right of the
chair. "Oh, I think I found something."

"Don't... go," Mulder mumbled painfully, opening his eyes and
finding her face.

"I'm not leaving, Mulder. I think I see the console. I'll be right
here," she said, wiping away a few rebellious tears. It was indeed
some sort of console, she saw. There didn't seem to be any labels
for any of the several keys and buttons, though. She tried to
consider it logically: she could probably discard all the ones
that looked the same, and the lever seemed unlikely. That left two
round buttons, one slightly larger than the other. "Which one?"
she wondered aloud, scared to pick the wrong one and cause further
damage.

Mulder heaved a deep sigh. "Dunno," he managed quietly. " 'S okay,
though."

He was forgiving her if she made the wrong choice. And she feared
that the other shape-shifter would come back if she took too long,
and now that her weapon was melted with the acidic goo she had no
way to defend herself or Mulder. She took a breath and let it out
slowly. "Okay." She went for the larger button, and gasped when
there was a loud click and Mulder cried out in pain.

"What did I do?" She ran over, and was immeasurably relieved to
see that all the metal spears had retracted. "Mulder, can you sit
up?" she asked.

"Think so," he answered, and held onto her arm for support. Then
he sat up, grimacing and letting out another grunt of pain as he
did so.

Scully was already ripping one of the gowns into strips, but she
handed him the other. "Put this on. You don't want to go into
shock," she instructed. She had seen already that he wasn't
wearing anything.

He nodded and struggled into it, out of the chair but leaning
heavily against it when he finished. Scully treated and bandaged
the wounds on his arms and face as best as she could, trying to
infuse some tiny normalcy into the situation by scolding him
gently when he flinched. "Hold still, Mulder, I'm almost done,"
she said.

But her heart jumped into her throat when he suddenly sagged
backward and sank to the ground. "Mulder!" She caught his head
before it cracked against the chair, and crouched beside him. He
seemed to have passed out. "Mulder, you have to wake up! I can't
carry you, and we have to get out of here."

There was no response. "Please, Mulder," she whispered urgently.
She stroked his forehead, then kissed him in the same spot. He
shifted slightly, and his eyes opened, but couldn't focus.
"Mulder, can you hear me? Can you stand up?"

He sighed, then muttered, "Mmm. What?"

"Can you stand up?" she repeated, feeling more and more sure that
the bounty hunter would return any moment.

His eyes were still unfocused. "Uh... I don't know, Scully," he
said weakly. With her help, he sat up, still leaning against the
base of the chair. He blinked rapidly and finally met her gaze,
eyes clouded with pain. "You okay?"

"I'm... fine," she said. His only answer was a still-bleary but
disbelieving stare. "Much better shape than you, anyway." She
looked around, remembering. "Carrie said there was some sort of
ventilation shaft in these rooms. I'm going to go see if I can
find it, and then we're going to see if we can at least hide
there."

Mulder nodded slightly and swallowed. "Good luck."

"Yeah," she replied. She started with the wall closest to them,
but nothing obvious presented itself. She figured it would have to
be something really noticeable for Carrie to have seen it while
being tortured like she was. She clenched her teeth at that extra
reminder of the utter cruelty of their captors. On the far right
wall, behind the console, she found it - a grate, about three feet
across and more than two feet high, close to the ground. "I found
it!" she called back. *Now, if I can only open it,* she added to
herself, bending down to examine it.

There were no screws or nails visible, which didn't look
promising. When she pried at the edges with her fingernails, there
was no give. She swore quietly. It couldn't be that this was where
they would be stymied, after everything else that had seemed so
overwhelming. She pulled at it again, still to no effect.

"Scully?" came Mulder's voice from behind her.

"I can't get it open," she said, frustrated. She couldn't see into
it, either, and hoped rather than knew for sure that if it could
open, there would be any point to it.

"Try from different angles," he suggested.

"Okay," she said, and did so. It was only when she pushed up from
the bottom that she felt it yield slightly, and gave a little cry
of triumph. She shoved with all her might, and with a creak it
swung open, upwards. In the dim light of the room, she couldn't
see very far into it, but there did seem to be some space.
Carefully, Scully let go of the grate, and was gratified when it
stayed open. She went back to Mulder. "It's open." She looked at
him worriedly.

"Let's see," he answered her unspoken question, and held onto her
arm and the chair and slowly stood. He swayed, and leaned on her,
but didn't fall. He was about to say something, but Scully shushed
him.

"I think I hear something," she whispered, adrenaline pumping
through her again suddenly. They froze, and she listened hard.
There were footsteps, and they did seem to be coming closer.
"We've gotta move, Mulder," she said, and tried to start forward.

He moved unsteadily, and the weight of him on her shoulder was
almost enough to make her buckle. "Sorry," he said, sounding
embarrassed. "I'll, uh, try to lean less."

"Uh huh," Scully said shortly. "Let's go." They struggled forward.
When they reached the open grate, Scully attempted to help lower
Mulder in, but he ended up half falling into it with a muffled
exclamation. "Are you okay?" she asked, low and insistent, bending
over to peer inside.

For answer, he grabbed her arm and pulled gently. "Fine. Just
another bruise. Come on." She followed him in, and they pulled the
cover shut together. Just then, they heard a cry from the doorway
of the room. Scully shot a look at Mulder, and they scooted back
as quietly as they could from the grating, both breathing very
shallowly.

Of course, that meant they could hardly see anything that was
happening in the room. They could hear the creature moving around
the room, but he didn't say anything. *Not like they seem like a
talkative bunch in general,* Scully thought. She found Mulder's
hand in the dark and grasped it. He squeezed back reassuringly.
They didn't dare speak or move for several minutes, and Scully
soon realized by the slackening of his grip and his regular
breathing that Mulder had fallen asleep.

She didn't blame him in the least. She was too keyed up at the
moment, with their enemy still in the room, but she was exhausted,
herself. She had a few seconds of panic when she saw the alien get
very close to the shaft - would he think to look in, or try to pry
it off? It would probably be easy for him, and neither of them
were in any shape to put up a fight. But their tenuous luck held.
He disappeared from view again, and after a few minutes, she
couldn't hear him anymore.

Then her fatigue caught up with her. Despite knowing that they
weren't really safe there, Scully scooted in the tight space, then
lay down with her head against Mulder's side, carefully avoiding
his injuries. All the same, he stirred and whimpered slightly, and
Scully felt a surge of anger at what he had been through to
provoke that kind of unconscious response to touch. She whispered,
"Shh, Mulder, it's okay. It's me. We're okay," and felt him slowly
relax again. Another few minutes later, and they were both asleep.

Part Four
~~~~~~~
Her own nightmares woke her. All she remembered were confused
images of shadowy figures, pain in her abdomen, and a constant
feeling of fear, but she woke gasping and the terror briefly
continued until she realized where she was. Mulder's arm was
around her shoulder, and he spoke quietly. "Bad dreams?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah." She sat up as well as she could,
and turned to face him. "How are you feeling, Mulder?" The
bandages were still in place, but that was about all she could
perceive in the lack of light.

He shrugged. "Better than yesterday. Or... whenever it was." He
smiled at her. "Thanks for the rescue."

She smiled back, though the awkwardness of her position was making
her muscles protest. "Of course."

After a short pause, Mulder said, "Now, shall we see where this
tunnel leads?"

"Sounds good," Scully said, and then almost laughed at the idea of
'good' in this place. "Lead the way."

"All right." Mulder turned over and started to crawl, but stopped
after only a few paces, with a low sound of pain and annoyance.

"Mulder?"

"Sorry," he said, voice a little muffled ahead of her. "My arms
hurt when I put pressure on them."

Scully was quiet for a second. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I
wish I could do something else for you. Are the wounds bleeding?"

"No," he said. "I'll just... get used to it, I guess." He started
again.

"No hurry. Don't strain yourself," Scully called, worried.
Ideally, he should be in a hospital bed, avoiding exercise. But
the same was surely true for her. She sighed.

They went on in silence for a while. The air was close and
uncomfortably warm, and Scully had to school her thoughts strictly
to keep from thinking about how small a space they were in. It
must have been even worse for Mulder, but he didn't bring it up.
At least neither of them had any preexisting claustrophobia, but
she knew too much more of this could get ugly, no matter how hard
she tried to fix her thoughts elsewhere.

Mulder grunted out the suggestion of a rest after some time, and
Scully agreed. Since there wasn't really room for sitting, that
meant they both lay down, which felt odd even as it was a relief.
Scully moved forward again until she was closer to him. There was
even less ambient light this far down the passageway, but she
checked his bandages as best as she could.

"Nothing seems to be bleeding. That's good," she stated.

"Good," he sighed. "You know, I sure hope there's something at the
end of this, because I don't really feel like I can go all the way
back in reverse."

Scully gave a short, wry chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I could turn
around, so it'd be just you having to deal with that."

She thought she could see him smile in the darkness. "I should
have been short."

"I wonder..." Scully started to say, but then stopped. She wasn't
sure she wanted to go there.

"What, Scully?" Mulder said, after a short pause.

She heaved a sigh of her own. "I was just wondering... whether the
baby will be tall or short." Mulder didn't answer right away. She
was afraid she'd spooked him with that topic, and regretted
bringing it up. Of course, she also regretted that he didn't want
to talk about it.

But then he spoke. "I just hope he's got your spirit, whatever his
height." He paused briefly, and cleared his throat self
-consciously. "That was probably the corniest thing anyone's ever
said, wasn't it?"

Scully found herself tearing up again. She sniffed, wiped her
eyes, and settled with replying, voice not too unsteady, "Who says
it's a boy?"

Mulder laughed softly. "A girl, then." He smiled again, and pushed
her hair back from her cheek. "Red hair's not recessive, is it?"

She smiled. "My mom's hair isn't red." Of course, mentioning her
mother gave her another pang, and the smile vanished. How she must
be worrying!

Mulder knew what she was thinking. He touched her cheek again,
tenderly. "We'll get out, Scully. We're halfway there already,
right?"

Scully nodded and took a deep breath to steady herself. "You're
right." She struggled to her hands and knees. "You ready to move
on?"

Mulder got up, too. "Yep, let's go."

During this leg of the journey, Scully realized another issue that
could get very pressing. She was noticing more and more how
thirsty she was, and probably she was hungry, too. By escaping
from the tests, they were now also out of reach of the IVs.
However, that was just another necessity that had to be filed
under the growing 'as-soon-as-possible' list in her head.

The next time Mulder stopped, he told Scully, "Hey, wait a minute.
I'm going to back up a second."

Scully backed up accordingly. "Why, what is it?"

Then she was astonished to see him stand up, half of him
disappearing. "Ha! That feels good." He added, rather
unnecessarily, "There's another tunnel up here."

"Is there any way to climb it?" Scully asked, jealous that he got
to stand up.

There was a pause. "I think so. Doesn't look easy, but at least
we're not in Antarctica. Should we try it?"

Scully considered. "Uh, sure. It might be harder on you,
physically, though. Especially if it goes on for too long. Can you
see an end?"

Mulder's voice echoed slightly as he replied. "I see what could be
an end. There's some kind of light."

"A light at the end of the tunnel? What do you know!" Scully
muttered sardonically, mostly to herself. Then she spoke louder.
"Well, I guess we can try it. If you start to be in too much pain,
though, we're stopping."

Mulder didn't reply, which made Scully roll her eyes, but she
decided she would be attentive enough for the both of them. *As
usual.* They started the climb. Mulder had been right that it
wasn't easy. There was no helpful ladder, just regular grooves in
the wall that weren't all that deep and made gripping difficult.
Just a minute or so into the climb, Mulder slipped and cried out,
and almost fell back into Scully.

"Mulder-" Scully started, not sure whether she was more worried or
more annoyed. Seeing that he had found his grip again, she tried
for both. "Are you okay? You'd better not do that again, or we'll
both fall."

"Yeah, and somehow I don't think you'd be a good cushion," Mulder
remarked. But his eyes were concerned when he looked down at her.
"Sorry. Do you wanna go first?"

"And have you looking up my gown the whole time? I don't think
so," Scully returned.

He made a mock sound of outraged protest. "And just what are you
doing?"

"I don't know what you mean," Scully said primly, although she had
of course noticed that feature of their current arrangement. She
was only human, after all.

He shook his head and grinned. "Oh, whatever." They continued in
companionable silence for a while. Then Mulder slowed, and said,
"Hmm."

"What?" Scully asked.

"We're almost at the top," Mulder answered, "and it looks like
it's another grate. I was thinking it might be hard to get
leverage enough to push it open."

Scully sighed. It was almost harder to stay still than it was to
move, and she personally couldn't imagine having enough energy to
hold herself up and push on something that wasn't likely to come
off easily, at the same time. "I don't suppose there's a ledge or
something before we get to the top, is there?"

"No," said Mulder. "And I gotta admit I'm doubting my ability to
hold on and push the thing open," he added, in an echo of her
thoughts.

"Can you see anything out there?" Scully asked. "I mean, just out
of curiosity, I guess."

"Uhh..." he said. "Not much. It's not all that bright. I don't
think it looks like any part of the ship we've been in before." He
climbed up a few more feet. "The light's different."

She moved, too, trying to see around him. "It does seem
different."

Mulder put up one hand and gave an experimental push. Nothing
happened, and he quickly brought his hand back down to support
himself. "That's not going to work," he said, frowning. "It's not
enough. If I could just put all my effort into getting it open,
and not have to worry about staying up..."

Scully had a thought. "Mulder, do you think you could support me,
and I could try to push it open?"

He glanced down at her. "What, like if I gave you a piggy-back
ride?"

She shrugged as much as she could while her arms were occupied. "I
don't know, maybe. I wouldn't want to make you fall, though."

He nodded slowly, pondering the idea. "Maybe if I... if you could
get so you were on my shoulders, and I just concentrated on
keeping us both up, that might work."

Scully swallowed and stared up at him. "Wouldn't I hurt you?"

"Not really," Mulder said dismissively. "They didn't do anything
to my shoulders. Besides, what other choice do we have? I think
it's a good idea." He shifted so he was leaning forward, so there
was space behind him. "Would there be room for you to get up
behind me?"

"I think so," Scully said. "But you have to tell me if you don't
think you can hold us both, and we'll think of something else,
okay?"

"Fine," Mulder said. "I'm going to scoot back down so there's
space above me for you." Scully moved down, and he suited actions
to words, before shifting forward again.

Taking a deep breath, Scully climbed up behind him, squeezing by
his leg and then putting her hand on his back. "You okay?" he
asked.

"Yeah," she said shortly. "It's just that this is awkward. I'm not
sure how it's going to work. Uh, I'm about to lean on you with my
hand, okay?" At his nod, she put most of her wait on that arm in
order to bring both her legs up a few feet, then leaned back
against the wall, breathing heavily. Then she gripped onto the
last groove before the grating, and tried to swing her legs up to
Mulder's shoulders. But she slipped, and it was with a yelp of
fear that her feet found grips on the wall again.

"Scully?" Mulder asked worriedly. She was pressing against him a
little, just by virtue of the fact that there was not enough room
in the space for them to stay in their own personal bubbles.

"I'm okay," she said unsteadily. "I don't think I'm cut out to be
a gymnast, though."

"Too bad, I think you're the right height for it," he remarked.

She imagined him grinning teasingly, although she couldn't see his
face from this position. "Ha," was her response. "I'm going to try
again now." She transferred all her weight to her arms again, and
this time successfully brought her legs up to Mulder's shoulders.
He grunted, and she decided not to wait to see how long he could
hold on. She reached up and pushed as hard as she could against
the grate. "It's not moving," she said, through clenched teeth.

"It has to," Mulder replied, sounding equally strained.

Scully felt very precariously balanced, but she steadied herself
against the wall and then pushed again. It gave slightly, with an
audible squeak. "Uh, maybe if you could scoot closer, we'd have
better leverage against it, actually."

"Okay," he replied, and jerked upwards. "Sorry, are you all
right?"

She had briefly, terrifyingly thought she was going to fall, but
had held onto the grating. "I'm fine." She gathered herself for
one final effort, and with that, it swung open. She immediately
had to steady herself again, but then she passed on the good news.
"It's open!"

"Great," Mulder uttered. "Can you climb out?"

"I'll try," she replied, and gripped onto the edge with tired,
aching hands. Her arms were trembling a little, but she ignored it
and pulled upwards, then moved one leg up to a groove higher on
the wall, and then pushed. With an awkward shove, and what she
hoped wasn't too much flailing, Scully clambered under the grate
and propelled herself onto the floor of wherever they were now.
She lay on the floor for a second, spent. "Coming, Mulder?"

"Yeah, give me a sec," he said wearily. She saw his hands grip the
edges of the opening, and she moved over and pulled the grate so
it was out of his way. Then she offered her other hand for him to
grasp, and leaned backwards, pulling with all her might.

Finally, they had both made it, entirely worn out, lying on the
ground. Scully couldn't remember ever being so tired, even after
first getting into the ventilation shaft. Antarctica came close,
but that had been partially because she had been otherwise
indisposed. But they couldn't rest, and she couldn't let her mind
wander. "Mulder, we have to see where we are," she muttered to
him, and rolled over to sit up. Mulder followed suit, more slowly.
They both leaned against the nearest wall and tried to be alert
enough to take it in.

Unsurprisingly, the room was featureless. But it looked different
than any they had seen before. It was quite large, but very narrow
- the wall they were leaning against was one of the long sides of
a narrow rectangle that stretched away to their right and left.
And the wall directly opposite of them was not a normal wall at
all, but several connected windows. It wasn't to the outside,
whatever that might be at the moment, though. From where they
were, they could see rooms below.

"What is this?" Scully wondered out loud. Of course the optimal
thing would be to get up to go look, but she was having a hard
time convincing her body to move.

Mulder, determined as ever, staggered upright and held out his
hand for hers. She took it, noticing with dismay that there was
fresh blood on his bandaged forearm. But as soon as she stood, he
was already walking somewhat falteringly toward the nearest
window. "I think we're on an observation deck, Scully."

She had to agree. The rooms that they overlooked were bitterly
familiar: the testing rooms. "Who would be observing from way up
here, though?" she mused. "I know there were- people down there
during my tests."

"Yeah," Mulder said, shuddering slightly. Scully squeezed his
hand. He squeezed back, then went back to staring out the window.
"It would be nice if we could use this to see a way out."

"Are we... did we land somewhere?" Scully asked.

Mulder looked thoughtful. "I think so, based on the engine sound."
He suddenly turned to her. "What about that other woman, Carrie?
We should try to get her out, too."

Scully swallowed and looked at the floor. "Mulder, Carrie is...
she didn't make it. They returned her in pretty bad shape, and -"
She took a deep breath. "And I couldn't help her, and she died,
right in front of me."

Mulder clenched his jaw. "Bastards," he whispered, closing his
eyes. Then he met her eyes. "I'm sorry, Scully. That must have
been horrible for you."

She nodded briefly and gravely. She silently vowed not to forget
about the woman as she too, focused on the view out the window.
But all she could tell so far was an impression that the ship was
big, and appeared to be circular, neither of which facts seemed
all that useful. The rooms right beneath them were unoccupied,
although some of those farther away seemed to have figures in
them.

"I feel like we're sort of exposed up here," Mulder said,
frowning. "And I don't really see any exit, either."

"No," she agreed. "Let's just..." she glanced around, "head that
way." She gestured to their right, since to their left was a dead
end.

They both instinctively moved back from the window and started
walking. The one good thing about having to keep moving, Scully
thought, was that their muscles didn't have time to cramp up from
being so over-used. All the same, she couldn't help thinking of
how much more dehydrated they were getting, and how Mulder's
injuries probably needed stitches or even surgery to repair, since
they had started bleeding again. He wasn't complaining, of course,
because he always seemed to all but forget about his own health
when he was focusing on a problem that had to be solved. Though
this single-mindedness had been everything from annoying to
actually endangering to himself and others in the past, Scully had
to admit that it was a kind of blessing right now.

Mulder stopped suddenly then, and moved back to the window.
"Scully, look at this."

She followed him and looked. "What is it?" Then she gasped. "That
looks like Carrie! Where are they taking her body?"

"I don't know, but I get the feeling it's not something they would
want to keep on the ship," Mulder said musingly. They watched as
two figures pushed the body on a cart, moving farther away from
them, toward the center of the ship.

"You're thinking that could somehow be our way of escaping,"
Scully stated. It wasn't a question. "Wherever they're taking her,
maybe they're going to dump her outside, somewhere?"

Mulder nodded, leaning on the glass and watching. It was hard to
see far enough, but the center of the ship did look like it
opened. "Maybe we can get out the same way we got in," Mulder
said. "We've gotta get down there."

"How? And then what, just hope no one sees us and jump out?"
Scully asked, frustrated. She sighed. "Besides, we just made it up
here. How is this better?"

"I don't know! We'll think of something," Mulder almost snapped.
Then he ran a hand through his hair and looked slightly
apologetic. "First thing is to get down there. Do you agree on
that? That's the only exit we've seen."

Scully nodded slowly. "I suppose. I'm sorry, I don't mean to shoot
down the only idea we've got. I'm just worried."

"I know," Mulder said quietly. "I am, too." He met her eyes, then
turned and looked down the hall. Putting his hand on her lower
back, he said, "We should keep moving - there must be some way to
get down there from here."

"Yeah," Scully replied, and they moved on. She tried not to let
all the uncertainties of this plan get to her. After all, Mulder's
crazy plans usually ended up working somehow. Usually. She thought
of some of his previous harebrained ideas with a mixture of
exasperation and fondness, and rolled her eyes to herself. But she
was startled out of her reflections by Mulder's exclamation.

He pointed at a stairwell in the wall to their right. "Looks like
as good a chance as any," he said. He stepped in front of her to
get closer, and listened. "And I don't think anyone's there. Let's
go." Scully went after him, thinking it weird for such a foreign
place to have something as familiar as a staircase. Of course this
one was dimly lit, like the rest of the ship, and she could have
wished for railings.

They had turned the first corner when Mulder held out a hand to
stop her and whispered, wide-eyed, "Do you hear something?"

Scully paused. "There's someone else on the stairway," she
replied, already turning to run. The sounds were getting closer.

Mulder grabbed her arm. "They'll hear us if we run!"

"And they'll see us if we don't! They're coming!" Scully hissed
back. "Let's go, Mulder!"

Finally he nodded, and they took off, Scully's heart pounding as a
shout rang out from below. They made it up the stairs and then ran
back to the ventilation shaft, not daring to look to see how close
their pursuit was. Mulder bent down and wrenched it open, and
yelled, "Go!" Scully made sure she had some grip and then started
climbing. Her muscles protested at this repetition of abuse, and
her fingers were cramping. She had never liked climbing down, and
with such poor purchase, it felt terribly dangerous.

Mulder got in, but she stopped and stared in terror when the alien
bounty hunter appeared above him, pulling at the grate he had just
closed. Mulder hung on grimly, but Scully knew that wasn't going
to work. "Mulder, you have to get away! He's too strong!" she
called.

Mulder looked down and nodded. "It might be time to test out that
cushion idea after all, Scully," he grunted, and then added,
seeing her eyes widen, "but let me go first."

"Mulder, no, it's too far, too dangerous!" Scully cried. The alien
had almost succeeded in pulling off the cover.

"Just let me get past you!" Mulder replied.

She realized there wasn't much of any choice. Silently, eyes fixed
on Mulder and the creature that was winning the struggle above,
she pressed herself as close to the wall as she could.

Mulder gave a small nod, then abruptly released the grate and
half-fell until he reached where Scully was. They were practically
on top of each other, and Mulder smiled into her face and then
climbed down a few more grooves to make space. "See you at the
bottom," he said quietly. Then he let go, and was out of sight in
seconds.

Scully didn't know which was more horrifying, trying to imagine
what was happening to Mulder or the sudden sight of the bounty
hunter with his upper half in the shaft, arm stretched out and his
usual impassive expression on his face. She gasped and scooted
down some more, and then, feeling somehow like a coward, closed
her eyes and let go of her grips.

The fall was not smooth. She hadn't let go all at once, and she
hit the side of the tunnel several more times, once getting a
knock on the head that made her see stars. She finally put her
hands out and tried to slow down. The friction was painful, but it
worked to some extent - until she ran out of wall, cried out in
shock and fear, and landed. Scully thought she heard Mulder's
voice right next to her, but the impact robbed her of breath, and
her body's response to all this was to black out.

Part Five
~~~~~~~
She woke slowly, aware of someone speaking her name. "Mulder?" she
mumbled, and opened her eyes. He was bending over her, looking
frankly terrified. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, hearing
her words come out slurred.

"Are you okay, Scully? You - you lost consciousness." He helped
her sit up. "You scared me."

She brought a hand to the side of her head. "Ow. Sorry. I hit my
head on the way down, and then the fall - I think it knocked the
wind out of me." She looked down at herself, and then at Mulder.
"What about you, Mulder? Did I land on you?"

"Mostly, but I'm fine, I think. I had time to move so I sort of
caught you," he said. "I just got a few more bruises, and I think
I twisted my ankle when I landed."

Concerned, Scully asked, "Is it swollen? Can you stand on it?"

"I haven't exactly had time to try," Mulder said wryly. "But no,
not really swollen as far as I can tell."

Scully insisted on checking it, anyway. Though he winced at her
pressure, she felt no break. "Just twisted. Under normal
circumstances, I'd still say you should keep off it until it
heals." It was only then that she remembered what had caused all
this. "Is he gone?" She looked up. There was no sound or sight of
pursuit.

"I don't think he's crazy enough to take our route," Mulder
replied, smiling slightly. "But he might think of the entrance we
originally came in from."

"Great," Scully remarked. Her head ached, although she guessed
based on the lack of nausea that if she had gotten a concussion,
it was mild. Her biggest fear was that the fall had done damage to
the baby. She took a small amount of comfort in the fact that
Mulder said he'd caught her - that was probably the best that
could have happened. She sighed, and didn't bring that up. "Should
we try whatever's on the other end, then? Isn't it sort of the
direction we wanted to go?"

"Sort of," Mulder replied thoughtfully. He echoed her sigh. "I'm
not sure how much longer I can run on adrenaline. I think I'm
getting low on even that."

"Yeah," Scully agreed. "Just can't catch a break, can we?" She
wasn't ready to give up yet, but she was far past wishing they
could just rest for a little while, just a pause before jumping
back into the fray. And having been unconscious for a few minutes
didn't count.

He shook his head. "Never." He took her hand. "But let's pretend
we're ready to go, okay?"

She nodded, gave him a small smile, and they got on hands and
knees again. Her knees were getting friction burns by this point,
too, and returning to this closed space after being away from it
made the claustrophobia seem worse. She concentrated on just
keeping going, remembering that they now had something concrete to
work toward.

This did, however, mean that she was so much on auto-pilot that
she came very close to running into Mulder when he stopped.
"Mulder?" she asked, shaking herself out of her half-asleep state.

"There's another vent above me, and the tunnel also turns to the
left," Mulder said tiredly. "I think we should probably open this
and take a look, even if we decide to stay in here."

"Mmm, yeah," Scully said, and yawned, which seemed inappropriate
when they were still presumably in a life-or-death situation.

"Am I boring you, Scully?" Mulder asked, with a playful smile.

She rolled her eyes, and moved closer to help him push. This one
wouldn't budge, though, no matter how they strained. Finally they
stopped, and Scully collapsed back against the wall, panting.
Mulder took longer to give up, but a minute later he too was
leaning against the opposite wall. "I guess I'm gonna vote we keep
going in the tunnel. If I remember the layout well enough, going
to the left wouldn't be a problem, anyway," he said.

"Okay," said Scully. Privately, she wondered, *How are we going to
have any energy to make a run for the exit if and when we get
there?* Out loud, she added, "Is it safe to take a break?"

He frowned pensively. "Who knows? I know I feel like I need one."

"Well, can we maybe just get a little farther away from this grate
and rest, anyway?" Scully suggested. "It may not be the safest
choice, but neither is driving ourselves completely to exhaustion
so our reflexes are dimmed when we get to the most dangerous part
of this."

"You're right," said Mulder. "We're going to need our strength."
They got up and went around the bend, and Mulder called back, "I
suppose we could take it in shifts."

"We could try that," Scully agreed. After a pause, she said dryly,
"You're not going to want me to sing again, are you?"

Mulder laughed - loud and long enough that she felt like she
should be offended.

"What? I did warn you," she said.

"You did," Mulder replied, subsiding. He slowed down. "That's far
enough. And no, no singing will be necessary." He sat back. "I'll
take the first watch."

Scully raised an eyebrow at him, her mouth twitching slightly.
"You could sing," she suggested, lying down.

He smiled and shook his head. "I think we've all been through
enough recently without adding that to it. Go to sleep, Scully."

She was out before she had time to finish thinking up a witty
reply.

Mulder watched her, once again amazed by her ability to fall
asleep so instantly, no matter the situation. He hoped she felt at
least some sense of safety at the moment. He sure as hell would do
his best to keep them both that way for as long as he could. Then
he corrected himself - all three of them. It was still almost
incomprehensible to him, this miracle that Scully had given up
hoping for. He would be thrilled for her if - when - they were out
of here. But he realized that if he allowed himself to think of
that future, he was excited for himself, too. As well as being
terrified. Of his many insecurities, fear of being a bad father
was now moving up the list pretty rapidly.

He shook his head, telling himself that if he had to give in to
self-loathing worries, now wasn't the time. Instead, he looked
around carefully, trying not to notice how his muscles were
complaining from the awkwardness of this not-quite-reclining
position. Of course, in the lack of light, he doubted he would be
able to see much, anyway, but there didn't seem to be anything at
the moment. No sounds were audible, either. Mulder decided he'd
let Scully sleep until he judged at least an hour had gone by.

To keep his mind occupied and awake, he concentrated on running
through different potential scenarios for what to do once they got
close to the exit. Thoughts of Scully and their child kept
intruding, though - vague thoughts that, when he tried to examine
them further, resolved into almost primal feelings of
protectiveness. He almost laughed in wonder. He'd always been
protective of Scully, all the way back to their first case when
she'd collapsed on him in his hotel room, and then when he'd
worked against the urge not to let her do anything for herself
when she was sick.

But now it was something more. It used to be that he could be
diverted by his need to solve other problems - whenever he thought
he was getting close to the truth about his sister, for example,
he left Scully behind. Even that last fateful trip to Bellefleur,
he had to admit was that kind of example of putting The Truth
ahead of the most important people in his life. Now he couldn't
imagine making the choice to take that trip, even if he didn't
know that it would result in his abduction. Suddenly... suddenly
and unbelievably he had a family, and nothing else came close to
mattering as much.

Now that he recognized this new development for what it was,
though, there was all the more reason to make sure they got out
safely. Mulder brought his mind back to that issue. What he
accomplished was to discard most of his half-formed ideas, but
that was something, he supposed. Finally, he was forced to
acknowledge to himself that he was very soon not going to be any
use, so he bent down and kissed Scully on the cheek. "Hey," he
said quietly.

She stirred and sighed, then opened her eyes. "My turn?" She sat
up and ran a hand through her hair. "Anything to report?"

"No, nothing," Mulder replied, lying down. *Just a complete
upheaval of my whole worldview,* he added to himself. *And that's
nothing to worry about.*

"Good," said Scully, unaware of his personal dialogue. "Have a
good nap, Mulder." Her smile was the last thing he saw before he
closed his eyes.


Scully thought maybe Mulder had been doing some serious thinking
while she was asleep. He had looked at her with an expression she
hadn't really seen from him before, and whatever it was, it
startled and comforted her. She thought they probably needed to
talk about a lot of things, as soon as they could. But now somehow
she felt better about what he would say, even if there might still
be some awkward moments.

Still, she thought it was probably better right then to be trying
to work more on their escape plan. She didn't know what Mulder had
in mind, or even how much he had in mind as of yet. She had slight
undefined ideas relating to the fact that they'd seen Carrie's
body being disposed of - but the alien had seen them, so it knew
they were both alive. And how could they be sure a disguise
involving one of them would be worth the risk?

As she was attempting to work that idea out, Scully became aware
suddenly of a machine-like hum, getting closer to them. "Mulder?"
she said uncertainly. "You better wake up. Something's happening."

He sat up as best as he could, looking worried. "Yeah, what is
that?"

It was loud now, and then just as suddenly it faded away. "Maybe
some kind of scan," Scully said nervously. "They could be looking
for us."

Mulder nodded. "Let's go," he said, jaw clenching. They started
moving, but it wasn't long before a different machine noise
started up.

Scully went cold as she recognized it. "Mulder! It's -" but then
she couldn't talk, move, or even think. She was vaguely aware of
crumpling to the floor, and hearing Mulder's voice raised in
alarm. Her neck was prickling again. She wished it would stop.
There was something she needed to be doing, but she just couldn't
concentrate.

Now she was moving, being turned and then dragged along the floor.
Mulder was talking again. She couldn't understand the words he
said, but they sounded soothing and it was comforting that he was
there. She thought maybe she could see him, too, but her vision
wasn't cooperating and it was dark. A loud clattering interrupted
her confused thoughts, and Mulder's voice was quiet next to her,
angry and scared. The speed at which she was being moved
increased.

*That's right,* she recalled fuzzily, *we're escaping.* And they
had to hurry. She should be helping. She tried to say something,
but she didn't think it worked. Why couldn't she move? She was
frightened. *Someone...* she thought, desperately trying to hold
onto the idea, *someone is chasing us.* She moaned, and Mulder
said something, breathless but reassuring. She had already
forgotten what was happening again, except that she couldn't stop
panicking about it.

Abruptly, after some amount of time (that Scully had no way of
knowing how long it was), she wasn't moving anymore. She thought
she heard movement behind her head, and Mulder said something in a
sharp, desperate tone. She tried again to say something, but all
that came out was a rush of air, close to a sob. Then there was
another clattering sound. More dragging followed, and then she had
been picked up, and she thought she was being carried. Was it
Mulder who was carrying her? She hoped so. That would mean she was
safe.

The journey was rough. There was some reason why it was bad that
Mulder was carrying her... but Scully couldn't keep it in her
head. She almost fell once, and the arms around her tightened, and
Mulder sounded scared and angry again, but also apologetic. And
then, some time later, Scully realized she was looking up at
Mulder's face. It was dark, but she could see again. "Mulder?" she
asked quietly, voice slightly slurred. She was extremely relieved
when the thought matched what she said.

"Scully!" he replied, looking down, whispering but with obvious
relief. Belatedly, as Mulder looked up again instantly, she
realized that they were still on the move. She was still in his
arms, and the fuzziness was just starting to recede from her
brain.

Mulder turned right down the next hallway they came to, and turned
right again. Then he paused, breathing heavily. Unsure, he turned
and looked around. His gait was unsteady, and she remembered he
had hurt his ankle earlier. This couldn't be good for him.

"What happened? Where are we?" She made her voice match his
whisper. It was clear even in her still-confused state that they
were trying not to be seen.

"Let me tell you in a minute, okay?" he murmured, tense. "I'm not
sure they're gone yet."

The idea finally filtered into Scully's mind that she had thought
someone was chasing them. *Probably the alien bounty hunter
again,* she reflected, and fear rose in her when she considered
that the danger still wasn't past. She moved her head to look
around, to watch where Mulder was watching.

She saw, with an extra jolt of adrenaline, that it wasn't even
really a room they had gotten to - it looked like they were in a
dead-end of a hallway. The hall turned sharply to the left ahead
of them, where they had come from. There didn't seem to be any
rooms near them. But Scully felt keenly how exposed they were. If
anyone followed them, they had nowhere to go and nothing to defend
themselves with.

And before she could even try to stir, her worst fears were
confirmed. The sounds of pursuit became audible. Mulder tensed,
and held her tighter convulsively. "God, Scully, I trapped us," he
muttered, and glanced down at her, eyes dark with guilt.

"No, Mulder," she whispered quickly. She moved a little and Mulder
reluctantly bent down and loosened his grip so they both could
stand up. She skipped the rest of her speech to end this latest
attempt to carry the guilt for everything, because there was no
time. But something should be said, before... *before they
separate us again,* Scully thought, swallowing painfully. She met
Mulder's eyes, and saw in them the same barely-controlled panic
and grief that she felt. What she wanted to do, childishly and so
very impractically, was to climb back into his arms and never
leave.

The alien bounty hunter rounded the corner and saw them. He
stopped briefly, taking in how Mulder moved to stand in front of
Scully, and how they both were tensed and ready to go down
fighting. Then he moved forward, menacing as ever in his slowness
and lack of expression. Scully managed to withstand a brief,
pathetic feeling of lightheadedness.

And suddenly Mulder was yelling as he was shoved forcefully into
the wall, and Scully ran forward, trying to pull the creature off
him. An almost casual backhand sent her flying into the opposite
wall, where she fell in a heap. Her vision swam, and she thought
she might have really gotten that concussion now. Mulder swore at
the shape-shifter, and she saw him struggle futilely against the
arm that pinned him by the neck to the wall.

"Agent Scully, I told you we did not want to hurt you or the
child," the alien said, looking at her over its shoulder coldly.
"If you continue in this useless struggle, things will get worse
for you."

"Let him go!" she gritted, voice just as cold, getting to her feet
with effort.

"The tests must continue for him," was the response.

"I'll... stay if you let her go," Mulder gasped around the
pressure on his throat.

Before Scully could even object, the alien made a scoffing noise.
"You are in no position to bargain, Agent Mulder."

Meanwhile, Scully was sure that if she could search the creature,
she could find the stiletto they always seemed to carry. But the
instant she stepped forward, she was forced up against the wall
next to Mulder, albeit perhaps with slightly less force. Still, it
knocked the wind out of her and caused her eyes to water. She
coughed weakly until she could draw a normal breath again.

The alien had let go of her during this time to reach inside his
jacket for something - a syringe, she saw. It was no doubt filled
with some sort of paralytic or tranquilizer, but Scully did not
want to wait for either she or Mulder to find out. Ignoring her
pounding head, she ducked suddenly around his upraised arm and
grabbed for the syringe.

Surprised, he dodged to the side, letting pressure off Mulder in
the process. Though he still couldn't be breathing well, Mulder
was in the fray immediately, also aiming for the syringe. In the
confusion of the struggle, Scully was thrown backwards again, and
put out a hand to keep herself from hitting the wall this time.
She staggered back up, and saw that Mulder had managed to wrench
the syringe away from the alien.

Scully launched herself in front of the creature, keeping low to
the ground, and then rolled to one side as he tripped over her.
"Go!" she shouted to Mulder, and he stabbed downward over the
neck. To her horror, though, the bounty hunter moved at the last
second, and the syringe jabbed into his shoulder, instead.
Gasping, she grabbed Mulder's arm to pull him backward as the
green blood started to sizzle unnaturally out of the wound.

He closed his eyes and stumbled away, and she turned away, too. He
had cried out in pain as he pulled his arm roughly away from
Scully. "Let go, I got it on me!" She glanced down, forgetting the
danger, and saw green on Mulder's right hand.

The alien bounty hunter stood up at that moment. Scully looked up
in time to try to duck out of the way as he aimed another needle
at her. Once more, Mulder made a grab for the creature's arm, but
he shook him off and Scully felt the needle prick her upraised
arm. She went limp and was almost on the ground before she also
started to black out. Whether from the effects of the alien blood
or from another injection, the last thing Scully saw as despair
and unconsciousness closed in on her was Mulder going down, too.

Part Six
~~~~~~~
The sight that greeted Scully when she opened her eyes was not, as
she had dreaded, the inside of the containment area again.
Instead, she found that she was halfway slumped, as if carelessly
deposited, against a wall. A shape-shifter stood right next her.
He watched impassively as she tried to stand up. She couldn't -
though she didn't think she was completely paralyzed, the drug had
still not worn off enough to allow much movement. Nevertheless,
she could and did take the time to see where she was.

It was a large, open room. As she looked, Scully realized it
looked like what they had seen of the center of the ship. There
was a large circular impression in the floor, that looked like it
could open, and Scully thought it had to be the entrance and exit
to the ship. Then she looked closer, and her heart almost stopped.
There was a crumpled figure to the side of the circle. *Mulder!*
she cried silently. What were they doing? Was he...

"He's dead," the alien said, answering her fear. Still he watched
her.

Scully refused to process that terrible, calm response. It wasn't
possible. The creature had said just a minute ago that they still
wanted to run tests on him! Her brain ruthlessly supplied the
explanation that she actually had no idea how long it had been,
and that she'd already seen the deadly results of these 'tests'. A
sob escaped her. *This can't be happening!* Her mind threatened to
shut down - after all they'd been through, even escaping for a
time, only to end this way, to be defeated so utterly...

"You have no reason to fear for your own safety, but there is no
reason for you to try to escape anymore, either," the alien went
on.

Her mind still whirling, Scully barely heard what he had said. She
managed to focus on the image of the floor opening. They were
going to take him. They were going to take him away. Suddenly, her
mind seized on one emotion out of many that were crowding in: deep
anger. They could not do this. They just could not separate them
again, after how hard they had both fought. Scully took a deep
breath and her world narrowed to the sight of the opening, now
ajar and letting in the first breeze she had felt in who knew how
long.

The alien bounty hunter walked over and put his hands on the *- on
Mulder,* she instantly corrected herself. She was still supremely
focused and waiting. She gathered herself, adrenaline pumping, and
just as it was about to be all over, she was upright, against the
overwhelming lethargy and heaviness, and she was running the few
steps to take her to Mulder.

Again, she barely heard as the bounty hunter exclaimed something.
Mulder was out. She had to follow. A hand caught at her gown just
before she pitched herself out of the opening, and she fought back
with a vicious desperation. She clawed and drew blood and her
hands burned... and then she was falling.

The fall was short. She was outside, and all she wanted to do, now
that she saw Mulder again, was gather him in her arms and finally
rest. But there was still the ship. There was still Them, and
there was no way They would give up just because their captives
were outside. She staggered to her feet, not looking up but seeing
the air ripple, confirming their continuing danger. *I've got to
get us out of here,* she thought fixedly, *or They'll take me
back, and leave him here.* She was prepared to drag him as far as
it took, if only that would make Them leave the two of them in
peace.

She stood over him, not noticing the trembling of her limbs or the
burning in her hands, and steadfastly refusing to notice how still
and unnaturally pale he was. Just as she was bending down to do
whatever she could to get them both out of here, she realized that
there was a different light coming closer. Two lights. Headlights.
And amazingly, wonderfully, as they approached, the beam of light
from the ship flicked off, and then the ship was gone.

Scully watched as the car stopped and the driver got out. Her
exhausted brain couldn't process who it was, but she recognized
him as someone good, someone they could trust, and so she allowed
herself to sink to the ground, halfway on top of Mulder. Her
senses dimmed. The man called her name, and there were other
people running toward them, too, but she couldn't keep her eyes
open or make any response. And when hands tried to pull her away,
she only gripped tighter to Mulder. *No, don't take him away,* she
thought desperately, and wasn't sure whether she'd spoken or not.

"Agent Scully, we're not taking him away. We're taking both of you
to a hospital." She dimly heard the words, and remembered again
that she trusted this person. "Let go. I promise we're not taking
him away from you." He was gentle and insistent, and finally she
relented and relaxed. But before she permitted herself to sleep,
she wrenched her eyes open and said, very clearly, "He's not
dead." Then everything was black.

~~~~~~~
She was lying on her back. She couldn't move, and there was a
bright light and quiet voices nearby. *No! No!* Her mind instantly
jumped to panic. She was somehow back in the ship, and they were
going to do more tests, and she couldn't deal with this again. She
fought to move, to get away - and the voices were suddenly next to
her, and she... she recognized her mother. "Dana? It's all right,
you're in the hospital. No one's hurting you."

Scully stopped struggling and tried to open her eyes. *The
hospital. We got out.* "Where's Mulder?" she mumbled.

There was a bit of a pause. "He's here too, honey."

"He's safe?" she insisted, still unable to open her eyes, though
she wanted to watch her mother's face for the truth of the
response.

A different voice spoke. Skinner. It had been Skinner who found
them, she realized. "He's safe, Scully. We've got him."

She wanted to see him. She wanted to see for herself. "He's not
dead," she insisted again. Her eyelids refused to open.

The pause that followed, though short, caused Scully to try to get
up again, panicked. But Skinner was talking, and there was a soft
hand on her shoulder. "No, he's not, Scully. Take it easy. He has
you to thank for that."

He sounded sincere. She still wanted to see him, needed to see
him, but her body was so heavy, and she was still so tired. She
sighed. Then a new fear shot through her. "The baby?"

"The doctors said the baby will be fine," her mother said. "There
was... you were both suffering from dehydration, malnutrition, and
stress, but you're getting better."

"Mmm," Scully replied, relieved. She still wanted to see Mulder
but maybe it could wait, because she was so tired. She sank back
into unconsciousness.


When she next woke up, it was dark, but the sounds of the monitors
hooked up to her erased any panic she might have had. *It must be
nighttime,* she thought. She saw that she was hooked up to an IV,
and she felt the oxygen line in her nose. She couldn't quite
remember why she might need that, but she didn't want to think too
hard about it. Three fingers of her right hand were bandaged, and
she thought maybe her head was, too. But there was no pain. They
must be giving her some pain meds. As her eyes adjusted, she saw
that her mother was asleep in a chair across the room.

There were several get-well cards next to her bed - one that was
so over the top that it had to be from Frohike, she noticed with a
brief smile. She wished she could reach them, but she still felt
overpoweringly tired. Her mouth was very dry, too. Underneath it
all, though, there was a worry she could not ignore: Mulder. She
remembered that Skinner had agreed that he wasn't dead, and said
that he was here in this hospital, too, but something about the
way her mom and he had responded to her queries was not sitting
right. Plus, she also remembered just how bad Mulder had looked.
She shivered.

At that, Maggie Scully stirred and sat up, and saw her daughter
awake. "Dana!" She stood up and went to her bedside immediately.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Scully smiled and reached out for her mother's hand. "I think I'm
okay. Nothing hurts, although I know some things should."

Her mother squeezed the non-injured parts of her hand gently and
returned the smile worriedly. "Good."

"Where are we?" Scully asked. It had only just occurred to her
that she didn't know.

"Houston," she replied. "Mr. Skinner and your friends found you in
the middle of a field."

"Houston?" Scully repeated, raising her eyebrows. Then she heard
the rest. "My friends? You mean the Gunmen?"

Maggie nodded. Scully knew her mother had never known quite what
to make of those three, but she believed that if her daughter and
her partner trusted them, they must be good people.

Scully sighed. It seemed they had traveled quite a ways. Then she
went on. "Mom, I need to know... How is Mulder, really?" At the
pain that instantly came over her mother's face, she took a sharp
breath, and swallowed. "I know he looked bad when we... when we
got out." The image of him lying on the ground flashed into her
mind, and she shivered again.

"He's holding on, Dana," was the response that Maggie finally
gave. She looked serious, but Scully could tell she was trying to
be gentle. "Mr. Skinner said the EMTs didn't think he had made it
when he got to the hospital, but he convinced them to check more
carefully."

Scully was fighting back tears as that image refused to leave her
head. She held tighter to her mother's hand. "And?" she whispered.

Her mother sighed. "He said they found a faint pulse. He's hooked
up to machines now, and... he's holding on, like I said."

Scully nodded, pressing her lips together to keep them from
trembling. When she had regained enough control, she spoke. "Thank
you for telling me."

"I knew you'd just worry more about him if I didn't," Maggie said,
smiling through her own tears. "And I'm so sorry you got hurt like
this. Both of you."

She nodded again, breathing shakily. She wondered just how much
her mother knew or would be willing to understand of what had
happened to them, and decided to leave that to ask Skinner later.
"Do the doctors know what's actually wrong with Mulder?" she
asked.

Maggie shook her head. "They don't really know." Before Scully
could press further, she went on, "And you need to get some more
rest, Dana. I know you're worried. I'm scared, too. But if you
don't do what you can to get better for yourself, how can you help
him?"

Scully found this question infuriating in its reasonableness, and
that irrational resentment increased when her mother added that
she had to consider the baby, too. "I know," she almost snapped,
and winced inwardly at how petulant she sounded. "I know," she
said again, and the softer tone was an apology. She shifted back
further under the blanket. Her mother had only just heard that she
was pregnant before she disappeared, and Scully knew she was in
for a lot more of this kind of advice... *or maybe it should be
called lessons,* Scully thought.

"Can I get you anything, honey?" Maggie asked, and she knew the
apology was understood and accepted. She smoothed her daughter's
hair.

"I could use another blanket," she replied, already feeling
unconsciousness beckon.

"I'll go find a nurse and ask," her mother said, and left the
room.

Scully took some comfort in the extra warmth and the knowledge
that her mother was still there as she drifted off to sleep. But
her last clear thought was to vow to herself that as soon as she
could, no matter who thought it was too upsetting or whatever the
hell they thought, she would see Mulder. She would see his chart.
And then she would figure out how to set it all right.

~~~~~~~
Her next period of wakefulness began with learning about her own
physical state from her chart and her attending, Dr. Fisher. She
saw that she had been brought in with a serious concussion (she
was still certainly feeling the effects of that), numerous bruises
all over, anemia, dehydration and slight malnutrition as she
already knew, acid burns particularly to her right hand, remnants
of a paralytic drug in her blood, and hormone levels associated
with an acute stress reaction. There was a notation next to this:
"Patient's nightmares and insomnia without sedatives despite
extreme exhaustion and injury indicate possibility of Post
-Traumatic Stress." This was news to Scully - she did not remember
trouble sleeping, much less had she realized that she must have
been here for several days already.

Then there were the reports about the baby. Thankfully, and
amazingly, it was as Maggie had said: there didn't appear to be
any permanent damage. Dr. Fisher said he recommended plenty of bed
rest and a careful monitoring of her diet to make sure all
important nutrient levels were maintained and no new stresses
arose. Scully nodded. Then she asked when she could see Mulder.

He frowned. "Well, as I said, we don't want to add too many
stresses..." he stopped, perhaps seeing her glare.

"I think at this point it's starting to stress me out more not to
see him," she said, trying not to sound too angry. She knew very
well he was doing his job, but she was fed up with being told what
was best for her, entirely unrelated to her own wishes.

He sighed. "Well, I'm still concerned about you walking, with that
head injury. Let me see about getting you a wheelchair sometime
later today." He turned to Mrs. Scully, who had gone back to her
hotel at some point but had been there to hear what he told her
daughter.

She nodded. "I'll take you, Dana." She sounded resigned. Dr.
Fisher left, saying that he'd have someone send in a meal soon,
too.

Shortly, a nurse brought in some of the normal appetizing hospital
fare, and Scully ate. She found it more palatable than she
expected, probably because she hadn't actually eaten anything
in... how long had it been? "Mom, how long were we gone?" She
couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that.

"Three weeks," her mother said. "And you've been basically
unconscious for four days, until yesterday."

*I was gone for almost the same length of time as last time,*
Scully thought. That seemed both too long for what had happened,
and trivially short. But this time, she had her memories intact,
even though many of them were things she would like to forget as
soon as she could. Suddenly no longer hungry, Scully took one more
drink of the juice, then lay back against her pillow.

"Are you done?" Maggie asked, and at her nod, took the tray away.
"Tired again, huh? Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."
She put her hand on top of her daughter's, then went to sit down.

"Mom, you don't have to stay. I'm not much company," Scully said,
closing her eyes.

"I've had three weeks without knowing where you were," Maggie
retorted gently but firmly. "Don't worry about me getting bored."

Scully smiled at that characteristic response. She had had to
suggest it, even knowing what to expect. "Wake me up if the
wheelchair comes, Mom." She was asleep before she heard any reply.
Despite her relative feeling of calm before, her dreams were
restless and full of half-unseen dangers.

When she jerked awake, sure that something terrible had happened,
though, there was just her mother who had come to her bedside. Her
face was wearing that concerned expression Scully knew so well.
"Dana, it's okay."

Scully took a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah, I know. Just
nightmares." She sat up slowly, then leaned into her mother,
giving her a hug. She was, after all, very glad she was here.

She was especially grateful for the moment of support when the
nurse chose that moment to come in with the wheelchair. Of course
she still wanted to go, and found the process of being helped into
the chair aggravatingly slow, but she was ashamed to admit to
herself that she was afraid of what she would see when they got
there. But she steeled herself as they moved through the halls,
and by the time they stopped in front of a doorway and the nurse
said she would wait outside, she felt as ready as she thought she
could.

That resolution did not stop her from gasping audibly and feeling
abruptly lightheaded as she saw him lying there, with the
ventilator and other instruments attached to him. For a second,
she again flashed back to the ship and seeing him in that terrible
chair. But then she shook herself out of it and reproached herself
- this was a hospital. Doctors had done this, and it was keeping
him alive. She found she was crying, despite what she told
herself, dangerously close to breaking down completely.

"Oh, Dana," her mother said, coming to put her arms around her
daughter. "I know, it looks terrible, doesn't it?"

Scully clung to her mother for several seconds, then forced her
breathing to slow down. She sniffed, sat back and wiped her eyes.
"Let me get closer."

"Okay, honey," Maggie said, and the wheelchair was pushed up to
the side of the bed on his right. Scully found his hand and
grasped it carefully. She could feel his pulse: weak, as she knew
to expect, but steady. The wounds on his face had healed a little,
and she saw that there were stitches on both arms. She reached for
his chart.

Puncture wounds on face and arms, evidence of recent severe
laceration to the chest and to the soft palate - Scully clenched
the chart tighter. She hadn't known that, before. She continued
reading. Acid burns to the right hand. Evidence of dehydration and
mild malnutrition. Sprained right ankle. But of course the most
serious thing, left unexplained, was that he was in a coma, and
unable to breathe for himself. There was no clear brain damage,
nothing to cause it. Scully read through all the tests they had
run, all tests she would have had run if it had been her call.
Nothing had been revealed. The only anomalous test result was the
unidentifiable antibodies that had come back in his blood test,
although there was no other evidence of infection. *Unidentifiable
antibodies,* Scully mused, several ideas starting to run through
her head.

"Dana, are you all right?"

Scully started. She had almost forgotten her mother was in the
room, too. "I'm fine, Mom. I just... I need to talk to Skinner. Is
he here?" She set down the chart.

"I - I don't know. What is it?" She looked concerned.

"I think I might know a way to treat this." Scully wheeled herself
back from the bed. "I need to talk to him, get some files sent
from D.C..."

"Well, let me take you back to your room before we find him,"
Maggie said firmly. "You're not going to wear yourself out the
first day you're allowed out of your bed."

Scully sighed. "Sure, fine," she said impatiently. She knew there
would be no further discussion unless she agreed to this. Her
mother could and would be just as stubborn as her daughter.

Once back in bed, Scully tried to pass the time until her mother
came back with Skinner by reading her cards. They were nice, but
they couldn't hold her attention. She did notice with some
surprise that there was one from Doggett. She wondered briefly how
much he knew about all this - and how much he would believe. She
would probably have to tell her whole story to him, and that would
probably make him think she was crazier than he already thought.
But at least he cared enough to wish her a good recovery.

She set the card down as Skinner and her mother entered. "Agent
Scully? Glad to see you're feeling better."

"Yes, sir," she said. "I understand it was you that found us.
Thank you."

"Of course," he said, with a quick nod. "Now, I hear you have some
ideas for treating Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, I do," Scully said, sitting forward. "I saw that his blood
had unknown antibodies in it, and I thought of the various viruses
we've encountered on the X-Files. Mulder and I have both been
infected with what I think are versions of this virus before, so I
think this could be a new one."

"I thought the doctors found no real evidence of infection,"
Skinner said.

"Yes, but that doesn't surprise me, given its... unusual origins,"
Scully answered. She glanced at her mother, unsure of how open to
be. "I'm sure his body doesn't know how to fight it. I'd like to
recommend they start him on antivirals, and I'd like to get our
files on the... the virus sent over from our office."

Skinner nodded again. "I'll tell the doctors and make some phone
calls." He turned to go, then turned back. "Oh, I almost forgot:
you have some visitors, if you're feeling up to talking."

"Visitors? Sure, of course," Scully said, curious. "And thank you,
again, sir. I really appreciate - everything."

He left, and Byers, Langley, and Frohike entered almost
immediately. She smiled at them in pleased greeting. Her mother
smiled, too, but excused herself after a few minutes, claiming she
would get a meal and come back later. "I don't think she likes us
very much," Langly remarked.

"Oh, I doubt that," Scully assured him. "She's just being polite
and letting us talk."

"How are you feeling, Agent Scully?" Byers asked solicitously.

"Much better, thank you," she replied. "I hear you three helped
find us?"

"We worked with your boss to track the ship, yeah," Frohike put
in, modestly. "I have to say we lost it a few times, but we did
catch up with it."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, looking at each of them. A
thought came to her, after a short pause. "Why do you think the
ship left, out there?"

A few shrugs. "We wondered about that, ourselves," Langly said.
"Maybe the aliens knew it was us coming, and they didn't want us
to be able to report and blow their cover."

Scully smiled again, slightly. "Maybe."

"Anyway, we don't want to tire you, Agent Scully, but we wanted
to, um, check up and see how you're doing," Byers said.

"I appreciate that, and you know," she paused to steady herself,
"I'm working on some ideas to help Mulder, too."

Three faces fell. "I'm glad you're on the case," said Frohike
finally. "None of these doctors seem to have the right ideas."

"Well, I'm getting some files about the alien viruses we've
encountered sent over, and I've recommended antivirals to start
with," Scully explained in a carefully calm voice.

"You're thinking Mulder's been infected again? With a different
strain?" said Frohike. She nodded. Byers shot him a look, and he
seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. Instead,
he simply stated, "Well, let us know if there's anything we can do
to help."

"I will, certainly," Scully replied. "Thank you, again."

They left, and Scully was left dealing with her thoughts and
emotions, which were flustered, to say the least. She was still
very distressed by Mulder's condition, if she allowed herself to
think about it, but it felt better now that there was something to
do. Of course, the obvious problem with that was that she was
stuck in bed, not currently able to physically do anything. She
found herself wishing that she could at least be in the same room
as Mulder. Then she thought that was silly, because she knew he
needed to be in the ICU, and she didn't, and her being there
wouldn't really change anything.

If she was really honest with herself, though, she thought maybe
it would change something. She really felt like she needed to be
there, in any case. However, since she couldn't think of any way
to ask to be moved next to him that she could imagine without
cringing, she reluctantly gave up the idea for the time being. It
was with those thoughts that she drifted back into an uneasy
sleep.

~~~~~~~
**Scully couldn't find him. She needed to know what They had done
to him. She had to see, to make sure he was all right, because she
had a terrible fear that They had killed him, and she wasn't sure
how she was supposed to make it without him. Her head hurt, but
she had to keep going, because she had to know. Now there was
someone in her way. She tried to push the person aside, but it
didn't work. She fought back more desperately, her panic
increasing. Why were They keeping her from him? The way was clear
again after a few moments, and she continued as quickly as she
could.**

Suddenly Scully was aware that she was sinking back against the
wall in a hallway. The room was spinning, and her head ached.
There were raised voices around her, but she was completely
disoriented.

"Agent Scully?" someone asked.

"I have to find him," she mumbled, trying to stand.

A different voice this time. Familiar. "Let me help you, Agent
Scully. You're going to hurt yourself." He spoke to someone else.
"Can we get a wheelchair over here?"

Her eyes focused on his face just as he was helping her into it.
"Sir?"

"Agent Scully, are you with me?" Skinner met her eyes, deeply
concerned. He looked more... askew than he usually was, she
noticed.

"I..." She tried to remember what had happened. She gasped out,
"Is Mulder okay?" The memory of her terror was all she could find.

"Agent Mulder is fine. In fact, I was just going to tell you the
doctors had started the antivirals," Skinner said.

"I want to see him," Scully said, swallowing. Her head was
pounding, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"Yeah, I think that's pretty obvious from the fact you got out of
your bed to go looking for him, even though you're not supposed to
be walking, and then tried to attack me when I stopped you,"
Skinner said tightly.

"I did?" Scully asked, astonished. "I - I'm sorry, sir, I don't
know-"

"I do," he cut her off, shaking his head. "I'm going to take you
to him, although your doctor has already chewed me out about it,
and probably will again."

Scully was silent for the short rest of the trip. She wasn't sure
what she could say after what she had apparently done. At least
her mother hadn't been there, although she knew she would find
out. But her confused and chagrined thoughts stopped then, because
she was in Mulder's room.

Now that she knew exactly what to expect, it wasn't quite so
traumatizing to see him like this. She took several deep breaths
and managed to hold back the tears this time. As soon as she was
close enough, Scully carefully took his hand. She even thought his
pulse was stronger now. Her head was still throbbing, but she
leaned back, still holding his hand, and felt herself finally
relax.

Part Seven - Epilogue
~~~~~~~
Scully woke that night, heart pounding, with scenes of terror
receding slowly from her mind. The faint lights and sounds of the
machines hooked up to Mulder were an instant grounding to her;
the fear lasted only a few moments. She had been installed in his
room for several days since her sleepwalking incident, everyone
having decided this was for the best. Now she turned to watch him.
After a few minutes, she thought she detected signs that he might
be breathing a little on his own. The hospital staff would be
checking that, of course, but for the moment she took it as
another sign of hope. Her own breathing eased and she slipped back
into sleep. The next time she awoke, it was morning.

The results from the MRI showed that she was healing decently. Dr.
Fisher told her that she would probably be discharged within a
week, although he would recommend that she continued to take it
easy for several weeks after that. He also suggested she talk to a
therapist about the nightmares, especially if they continued to
significantly disrupt her sleep. Scully was fairly noncommittal,
although she did agree that dealing with constant nightmares would
not be a good thing.

She made sure to talk to Skinner at one point, to ask him to look
for missing persons reports on a Carrie Henderson from Montana.
She explained that she didn't know any more details about her
origin, or exactly where the body had ended up, but that her
friends and family deserved to know what happened to her. Skinner
promised he would do what he could.

Another few days passed similarly, with follow-up exams and
meetings with the Gunmen and Skinner, as well as regular visits
from her mother. Scully would have been feeling more and more
ready to leave the hospital if it weren't for the fact that being
still admitted meant constant easy access to Mulder. She was
allowed to be on her feet now, though she was still not physically
up to any long walks. The latest news from the Gunmen had made it
possible to treat Mulder's infection more specifically, and Scully
followed his slow improvement closely.

She was inexpressibly relieved when, after being on it for a week,
he finally came off the ventilator. She sat by his bedside that
day and talked to him a little - just quietly telling him what she
knew about their rescue, and everything that had happened since
they had come to the hospital. She knew he probably wasn't
conscious enough to hear what she said, but she hoped he heard her
voice. Then she ran her hand along both forearms, lightly touching
where the wounds were now almost faded, and did the same for his
face. It looked like there might not even be scars there. *Keep
getting better, okay, Mulder?* she thought. After a few minutes,
she unwillingly stood and went off to her next appointment.

That night, it was not Scully's dreams that woke her. She realized
almost immediately that she was hearing Mulder crying out in his
sleep. Heart pounding, she sat up quickly and went to his bed
side. He still sounded extremely distressed, and she knew without
a doubt what he was dreaming about. "Mulder?" she whispered, and
gently touched his hand. "Mulder, can you hear me? Can you wake
up?"

The hand flinched back from hers, and he moaned. "Scully..." His
voice was hoarse, weak and desperate.

"I'm here, Mulder." She took his hand again and stroked it in
hers. With her other hand, she touched his face. "You're safe.
We're both safe."

But he wasn't hearing. "No, I can't... Stop!" His whole body
flinched backward, and he moved his head frantically. "Please,
stop!" His voice cracked, and Scully felt tears come to her eyes.
A nurse entered the room, summoned by his scream, but Scully
ignored her for the moment.

She bent down closer to him and spoke firmly, erasing the
trembling from her own voice by sheer will. "Mulder, wake up! The
ship is gone. You're in the hospital. You're safe!" He stopped
thrashing, and Scully quickly instructed the nurse that a sedative
would probably not be necessary, but to get some ready, just in
case. She turned her attention back to Mulder. "Do you hear me,
Mulder? We got out!"

Mulder's eyes had been open for a little while, but now they
really looked at her. She couldn't tell in the darkness how much
he was seeing, though. "Scully?" he whispered, sounding doubtful
and still terrified.

She squeezed his hand lightly. "It's me," she agreed, wiping away
a tear. "It's okay."

He had pulled his IV out, and the sight of the small amount of
blood on his arm made Scully herself come close to having a
flashback. She kept herself under control with some effort.
Finally Mulder was starting to relax, and he was taking in where
he was. The nurse was back, and he closed his eyes and held
Scully's hand tightly as the line was carefully reattached. She
whispered, "It's okay, Mulder, she's helping you. You know that,
right? You're safe."

When the woman left again, he spoke. "Scully, what - how..?" He
closed his eyes again briefly. When he opened them, he looked
confused. "What happened to us? I remember... you weren't there,
and it hurt," he shuddered, "and then you were there..."

Scully gave a bittersweet smile. "I found the ship, Mulder. And I
got caught, too."

He stared at her for a while, seemingly uncomprehending. "Ship?
You don't mean an alien spaceship, do you, Scully? Everyone knows
aliens don't exist."

She gaped, and tried to process what could possibly have been done
to him. Was she, Scully the skeptic, actually going to have to
explain to Fox Mulder all about...? And then she saw him smile.
She let out her breath and resisted the brief urge to swat him.
"Mulder! You..." She gave in and grinned, injecting some of her
relief at his recovery into it, and saw his eyes light up
mischievously in response. Then she asked, "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," he answered seriously. He looked at the IV, and
glanced down at himself. "I feel better than any time I remember
on the ship, I guess. Except, uh, weak."

"Well, you've been in a coma for about a week, so that's not
surprising," Scully said. She got up and poured him some water,
put a straw in it, and let him drink.

"A coma?" he said, before obediently swallowing the water.

"We think you were infected with another type of alien virus," she
explained. "But you've been on antivirals, and you're getting
better." She took the cup and put it back on the table.

"How are you, Scully?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said. At his look, she raised an eyebrow and shook
her head. "I really am, Mulder. I was a little beat up, but the
doctors say I can be discharged in a few days."

He lay back against the pillow. "God, I thought we weren't going
to get out," he said, after a few seconds. "After all that, I was
afraid we were going to be stuck there."

Scully looked down. "I was afraid they'd killed you," she said in
a low voice. "They almost did." She scooted the chair as close as
it would come and laid her head down on his shoulder, crying
softly again in spite of herself. But there was no hysterical
grief, just a quiet release of her fears.

She felt him bury his face in her hair, and then kiss the top of
her head. "I thought for sure after they caught up with us we'd
never see each other again," he whispered. Then he gasped a
little. "Scully, is the baby okay?"

She smiled into his blanket and sniffed. "Yeah, Mulder, the tests
show that everything's on track." She sighed, and felt her eyelids
droop. "You know, I've had nightmares, too, but... I think it'll
be better now that we're both okay."

He shifted so that he could put his arm around her shoulders.
"You'll still be there when I wake up, right, Scully?" He sounded
tired, too, yet much calmer.

"Mmhmm," she breathed. She had a vague notion, as she slipped back
into sleep, that this shouldn't be that comfortable of a position.
But somehow it didn't matter at all. She felt safer and more whole
than she had for far too long.

End


~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Once again, I invite you to send me some
feedback at glace_aux_fraises@hotmail.com .

This story started with me just wondering if I could write a
double-abduction story. The idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I
then progressed to wondering when in the timeline I could put it.
And when I thought of this timeline, I thought maybe I could spare
Scully some S8 pain. Of course, I ended up causing her lots of
pain, too (sorry, Scully!) but at least she was with Mulder,
right? ;-)