Scully woke, thrashing. She was freezing, her sheets were at the foot of the bed, and her silk pajamas were soaked through with sweat. She wiped her hands on the legs of her pants, reminding herself to breathe.
What had Mulder told her that afternoon when he found her? "Just breathe." Mulder. She checked the clock on her nightstand: 1:30. Would he still be up? Only one way to find out, she rationalized.
She dialed his number and hit the call button before she could decide against it. He picked up on the second ring. "Mulder."
"Mulder, it's me. Did I wake you?"
"No," he lied. Sleep colored his voice, and she heard sheets rustling. "Scully, it's one thirty in the morning. Why are you up?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Is that all?" He sounded concerned. "Do you want me to come over?"
"I'm fine. I, uh, I had a bad dream. It shook me up a little, that's all." She lied, trying to cover the tremor in her voice. She suddenly felt very small.
"What can I do to help?"
"Can you just talk to me until I fall asleep? My house is too quiet."
"Yeah. What do you want me to talk about?"
"Tell me about Bigfoot, that ought to do the trick."
He faked hurt at her statement. "Are you telling me you don't find my theories gripping and enthralling?"
"Mulder, shut up and tell me about the Sasquatch." She chuckled lightly.
"The Sasquatch? Thought you'd be more interested in the Loch Ness Monster. Oh well, though. Here I go…"
She snuggled into her blankets and pillow and closed her eyes as he droned on about monsters that didn't exist, his calming voice lulling her to sleep.