CHAPTER 3


Scully gently tosses a Wal-Mart bag onto Mulder's bed. He picks it up and pulls out the contents one at a time. A razor, deodorant, toothbrush, tooth paste, two-pack of underwear, a grey t-shirt and a bag of sunflower seeds.

"Thanks," he says, reaching for the seeds

"No problem."

He picks up the Haines. "Extra large - good choice."

Mulder-humour to battle the tension as he tries to open the bag of seeds. She gives him a half smile – it is all she can manage right now - and holds up a form. "Fill out this and we can go."

He finally gets the bag open. A shower of seeds cascades into the air and down onto the bed. "Do you still have my motel room?" he asks, picking up the seeds and dropping them back into the bag.

"Yes. You can shower and change there." She pulls out a wad of prescriptions and waves them like a flag of surrender. "We can get your meds on the way out."

"All those?"

She is tempted to remind him that it was his stupidity that has saddled him with, 'all those'. And since he is the one who is going to have to take them, he should be quiet. Especially, since Scully's daily regimen of pills is twice as bad.

An hour later, Mulder slowly climbs into the passenger seat and adjusts his seatbelt. The bag of goodies is on his lap. He is holding folded photocopies of his hospital paperwork in his hand.

Scully gets in, adjusts the seat and puts her seatbelt on. She looks at him. "What's wrong?"

He realizes he is rubbing his forehead. She is going to be looking for any signs of anything from now on, he realizes.

"Headache."

The drive to the motel takes fifteen minutes. Neither of them says a word. Mulder tilts his head against the headrest and gazes at the crappy weather they drive through, the gray buildings and people and cars. He catches himself thinking, now what?

Now what.


She enters their motel room first and throws her coat onto the bed. She nods towards the bathroom. "Shower's all yours."

He stands there, not at all sure what is supposed to happen here. She is a mystery when she needs to be.

"Scully-"he begins when he realizes she is not going to give him any help.

"Shower, Mulder. I'm fine."

He doesn't believe it for a minute. "Sure."

She waits until the bathroom door is closed and the shower starts running before she sits down on the bed and buries her face in her hands.

How in the hell did it come to this, is all she can think.

Mulder doesn't feel much better than before – his headache is worse today. And he feels hopeless. His sister is gone. His last chance at remembering what happened is gone. He thinks he has a fever but he'll have to keep this from Scully too. He showers, shaves and changes in the bathroom so that there is nothing un-presentable about him when he emerges wearing the new underwear and the t-shirt Scully brought. Most men would be embarrassed about his female partner having to buy him underwear but he and Scully passed the 'unmentionables' phase long ago, due to various medical emergencies they have seen the other through. He even knows what feminine products she uses because he once had to find an all-night pharmacy in Rochester when she had a very unexpected visitor, complete with cramps.

"Bathroom's free if -" He stops just short of the bed. His partner is lying on her side on the far side of the bed facing the window. He is not sure but he thinks he can hear a faint trace of snoring. He tiptoes to the other side for a better look. Her mouth is open just a little. She is sound asleep.

"Scully," he whispers kindly. There is a spare blanket on top of the dresser. As delicately as he can, he spreads it open and covers Scully from shoulders to toes.

She is the person closest to him in the entire universe, he allows himself to think as he tucks a corner of the blanket under her legs; this woman he cares so much for. No wonder he cannot deal with her future or his past. There is way too much to lose.

A cell phone begins to ring. Mulder does a fast circle to find where it is coming from. He realizes he has not seen his cell phone since he left Washington. The ringing continues and he tracks it to Scully's bag, resting at the door.

He grabs the bag, ducks into the bathroom and closes the door. There are two cell phones in the bag. One of them – the ringing one – is his.

"Mulder," he carefully whispers, pulling out the bundle of prescription bottles tied together with an elastic band for a better look. They have Scully's name on each.

"Fox?"

His heart stops. Scully's mother. She only calls when something is wrong with Scully. Then, he remembers that the subject of this fear is asleep in the next room. He jams the medication back into the bag and sits down on the toilet seat.

"Mrs. Scully?"

"Yes – I'm sorry, I didn't want to call your phone, but Dana's is shut off."

"Oh. Probably – uh, do you want me to get her? She's sleeping but I could-"

"No, let her sleep," Scully's mother interrupts. "She's needed it more these days."

A simple observation but Mulder hasn't been paying attention to much more than his own dissociative, self-destructive self for the past few days. "Yes," he says. "She has."

"How have you – have you found her energy level the same?"

"Dana's been working hard. I'm afraid I'm the reason she's here now."

There is silence. "I'm sorry, Fox, I'd forgotten to – how are you feeling?"

He leans back against the tank, wondering how much Scully told her mother; how much Scully ever tells her mother about him. He knows she trusts him with Dana; that is enough. What else she knows about him is painful speculation on his part.

"Fine, thank you. Just the headaches left over."

"Dana was very worried about you."

Shit, he thinks.

"Do you know if she was able to reschedule her appointments? That's what I was trying to call her about. I was going to go with her to some of them."

"Them?" Scully had mentioned 'tests' - plural. Single appointment, multi tests, is what he suspected. "Uh, no, I don't know…."

"That's all right. I can ask her when she gets home. She'll be home tomorrow?"

Mulder nods, a useless gesture given Mrs. Scully is not in the room. He winces as he fumbles for the truth "I think so. We are still in Rhode Island. I can have her call you when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Fox, that would be fine."

He still is not reading any irritation in her voice. There should be some. There should be a lot. He has kept Dana from more than one test this week, for which she had to ask her mother to accompany her. Why the hell hasn't Scully asked him to go with her?

"Fox . . . " Mrs. Scully's voice is unusually tentative. "You know – well, I hope you know ..."

Again, Mulder knows what she is going to say and he deserves to hear it. He has caused her daughter enough grief but missing tests, this is too much even for them.

Mrs. Scully gathers her words. "I hope you know that if you ever need help, as you did this weekend, and Dana wasn't there – or too tired – or for whatever reason . . . I hope you would always call me."

And when he's sure no one can get to him, someone smiles and it goes right through him. His voice crumbles a little despite his best efforts. "Uh – I would, Mrs. Scully. Thank you."

"Tell Dana I called."

Softly, Mulder presses the off button. He is sitting on a motel toilet staring at a cell phone. A hunch makes him reach into the purse for Scully's phone. He picks it up and looks at the charge. It is on. It always has been on.

He doesn't know what just happened here but it may have had something to do with simple kindness and an extra lifeline that has just been tossed to him. He leans forward, his shoulders shaking as he comes undone. Again.


Scully dreams that she is in that shopping mall again, the one where she lost Mulder's wallet, with all of his money and both of their plane tickets. The dream is like the first one, only there are more floating bodies to wade through before she can find the Lost and Found office - except the Lost and Found turns out to be a hospital ER. Nobody has seen Mulder's wallet here, either. She begins to back out of the emergency room but her back keeps hitting the wall. Again. And Again.

She jumps out of her sleep up with a frightened start, as if someone has crept up from behind and put a soft hand on her shoulder.

"Jesus," she breathes, sitting up and realizing she is not in an ER or a Mall.

She is still in this bloody motel room, the one she vowed this morning to be the hell away from by noon. It is dark except for the glow of the phone.

It is not a wall she has been backing into, it is Mulder. He is asleep on his side and his back is pressed against hers.

She leans across and shakes his shoulder. "Mulder, wake up, we're late." She doesn't know where this urgency comes from; it just seems to take over. It is borne of the deep sleep and is assuming command at the wrong time.

"Mulder, wake up."

He bolts up, his head moving too fast for the rest of his body. He is rewarded by a scary sensation of having his head swirl from the inside. "What's wrong?"

"We've overslept."

"For what?" He is too stunned for a vague answer and she is moving way too quickly for him. They have both been jolted from a deep sleep and the fact that neither of them know exactly what is going on doesn't help.

"Scully!" He grabs her arm and pulls her to a stop. But he has tugged too hard and she swings round against him. They both fall back on bed in a perfect movie moment. If they were to turn their heads, they would be face to face. If this were a movie, the jaunty score would sneak up behind them, he would take her into his arms, say something witty or soothing and then -

"We've got to get going," she says and almost rolls over him to get off the bed.

"Huh?" He tries to stand up without alerting her that something may be wrong. But, he realizes slowly, he could grow two heads right now and she wouldn't notice. She is in a state he has never seen her in before.

She is frightened.

"Hey – Scully, sit. Here….."

"Where are my car keys?"

She is in the bathroom crouched by her open bag, rummaging through all of the crap she now has to bring with her when she travels.

"Scully – stop. We'll find them in a second."

Mulder carefully leads her out of the bathroom. They sit down on the side of the bed and look out the window from the darkness of this motel room. The rain has started again and the window fills up with slow drops that take their time wandering down the glass. He keeps an arm around her to make sure she doesn't bolt. When she gives up the fight and leans her head against his shoulder, he loosens his grip but he doesn't let go. He will never let go.

They sit in silence, staring out a dark window as the rain falls and falls. It takes everything they have not to run and hide.

"You mother called."

He isn't certain how long they have been sitting here for. He thinks she may have fallen asleep. He thinks he may have as well but he can't be sure. He is so tired he doesn't know if he is imagining things like sleeping when he is awake.

She lifts her head but won't look at him.

"She wanted to know if you'd rescheduled some of your appointments for this week."

Scully just nods. She will call her mother when she gets home. They can plan the week. Maybe see if there is a time to go shopping. Maybe go for lunch.

"I'm so scared, Mulder," she whispers with a dread she has never spoken before.

He has been waiting for - and fearing - this moment for a long time.

Slowly, her head lowers. He isn't sure if she is crying. Scully's tears are a private matter, even in the company of his arms, and he will respect this. She says something but he can't make it out. He leans closer towards her.

"I want to sleep," she tells him.

Carefully, he stands up and waits while she pulls back the sheets and slips under them as if they are a cave. She glances over her shoulder and sees him standing at the side of the bed, waiting for her next cue. Scully moves further to the centre of the bed to make room for him. The bed sinks behind her and he climbs in, pulling the sheets over both their shoulders, gathering her into his arms as tightly as he can.

Within moments, they are both sound asleep and they are safe for the time being.


The sun is the first thing he sees. It is searing through the window, daring him to open both eyes at the same time and still live. Mulder has, like his partner, slept through the night. They will be the best-rested agents in the bureau.

It takes Mulder a moment to figure out why he cannot move. He is tangled in sheets. He has slept in his clothes again. He has tried to stop doing this at home when he is too tired to go to bed and camps out on the couch. No biggie, he decides; she slept in her clothes too. It's what big people do when they have shared a difficult night in the same bed, in a shitty motel in Rhode Island.

He can hear her voice across the small room. She is sitting at the desk, her back to him, talking quietly into her cell. Her shoulders are hunched as she leans over her date book. "Twelve o'clock on Thursday?"

Skinner? This is his first thought. She has arranged an appointment with Skinner to discuss Mulder's behaviour. She wouldn't even have to hide it from him at the office because he will most likely be banned from the office on official Doctor's Orders. And if she can't get to his regular doctor, she will sign the forms herself.

"He's fine. No, he'll have to be careful. Physically, I think the side effects will ease away. "

He waits for the second part of this sentence. It should start with the dreaded words, "Emotionally….." But it doesn't. The person on the other end of the line is doing the talking.

Christ, he thinks with a certain horror. His mother. She has called his mother to let her know that her son is all right, no longer the raving madman he was two days ago in her home. It would be like Scully to let his mother know he is fine. Unless - The Boys? Why would any of them call her? Unless Frohicke was feeling unusually brash. But Mulder would have heard the phone ring so she must have placed the call. Scully's calling the gunmen now? She really does think he is in deep shit.

"You spoke to him?" Scully is asking in a curious voice. "When?"

Her mother. Mulder's heart beats again. It is only her mother. He is smart enough to lie there and listen until she realizes he is awake. He won't pretend to be sleeping, that would be deceptive. Remaining motionless is fair game, though.

More silence on her end. "I'll talk to him - I don't think I can wait much longer." More silence. She shifts in the chair.

His heart stops again. Christ, how much worse could she have to tell him than what she told him last month? He will not survive this, he thinks. But he can survive this and he will. Survival is what Fox Mulder does best and he will do it for himself and for her for as long as he needs to.

"I'll call you when I get in - you too - bye Mom."

Scully shuts off her phone and seems to stare at it forever. When she stands and turns, she sees Mulder struggling to sit up in bed with the blankets and their corners virtually tying him down.

"Morning," she says stepping over a stray pillow.

"Suppose so," he grumbles back as he gages the temperature in the room. She has a distracted look in her eye again. The message is clear. He will not speak of the strange day they had. She will not speak of the strange night they had.

"What time is it?" Mulder asks,

"A little after six. In the morning."

"How long have you been up?"

She pauses as if this is a trick question. "Just an hour or so." She picks up some pill bottles and a bottle of water and brings them to the end of the bed. She sits down next to him. "Over this way - I want to have a look at you."

This is going to be a long day but he does as she asks because he is in her hands now and will do whatever it takes to get back home. "I'm fine."

She sits back and looks at him as if he has handed her a twenty to tell him everything is fine. "I'm making the calls here, Mulder, not you."

He won't reply. Now is not the time to get into a power struggle with someone feeling possibly more messed up than he does right now.

Satisfied that he is not in any danger for the near future, she reaches for three of the pill bottles. "You need to start on these now." She begins to spill out instructions for each of them until Mulder finally interrupts, clearly insulted.

"I think I can follow instructions on a little bottle"

"Mulder, your version of following instructions is avoiding them. Again, I'm in charge so listen. These pills, you need to take with food, every four hours. That means you'll have to wake up in the night, so set your alarm. This one is every morning. These ones you cannot have any alcohol while you're taking them."

She continues with a stream of rules for each medication he is on. She finishes with the good old standard medical warning. "Don't you dare miss a dose or stop until the pills run out. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"If I don't think you're taking them, or if I don't feel you're ready to return, I will see that you are put on medical leave. I can have security cut off your access to the building."

"Fine," he says crawling off the bed without giving her a glance. He disappears into the bathroom, barely managing not to slam the door behind him.

Mulder spends enough time in the bathroom to give her time to settle down. He doesn't like where this day is headed. He brushes his teeth, shaves, showers, changes back into his clothes, uses his deodorant and finds new ways to comb his hair.. And leaves the bathroom.

She is coming through the front door as he reaches the bed. Scully avoids his eye but waves an invoice in the air. "I've checked us out. You owe me three hundred and twenty one dollars."

She's billing him now?

He plucks the paper from her hand and stuffs it into his jeans pockets. "Thanks."

"Have you got everything?"

"I think so."

"Fine," she says and turns towards the door

"Hey, Scully." She stops, as if she might actually turn around. But she stays where she is.

"I want to make a stop before we leave town."

"All right," she repeats.

He waits for the argument that should follow this demand.

It doesn't come. He checks the room one more time for any misplaced belongings. He stops just before he closes the door to give this strange place one final look. He feels like he was born, and then died in this room. And suffered everything in between.

END OF CHAPTER 3