Lost.

Wayfield, Virginia.

May 18, 2010.

It was almost ten at night when she dragged herself out of bed. She felt like she had been hit by a truck. Frankie was even giving her a weird look, her mottled head tilted. Scully caught a look at herself in the bathroom mirror and grimaced. She looked like she had been hit by a truck as well. She had woken at least a dozen times during the night, stirring from weird, colorful dreams and bristling like a cat. It almost felt like someone had been in the room with her.

She checked her messages when she got back into the room, half-heartedly hoping for something from Mulder. She hadn't heard from him since their conversation on Tuesday night. It was already Thursday, leaning on Friday. She blamed her nightmares partially on his absence.

Iden was sleeping in her bed, her little arms wrapped around Frankie, and she heard the TV still playing in the living room. She ventured out, throwing her robe on, and found Parker napping on the couch. He was in his work clothes, probably prepared to leave the moment the alarm on his phone went off. He was supposed to be there by midnight.

She looked into the guest bedroom, smiling at the teenager splayed across the bed. She slept like Mulder, trying to take up as much space as she possibly could.

Scully ended up in the yard, dragging the dog out with her. Frankie trotted around in the grass, doing her business and making sure every blade of grass was covered in her scent. Scully stayed on the front porch, relaxing in her rocking chair. She started a message to Mulder on her phone, her fingers hovering over the letters. "Dear Mulder, I'm pretty sure the mole people have you by now. It was nice knowing you. Regards, Scully."

She smiled, deleting it. He would be thrilled if he was kidnapped by mole people. She didn't want to put that idea in his head. Instead, she shortened it. I miss you. And then she remembered for the third time that his phone was broken. He would never get that message.

She stayed out for a while, following the dog idly through the yard. Frankie went for a swim in the lake and returned, tail wagging, to shake the water off on Scully. She walked to the edge of the woods, smiling at the stupid spaceship mailbox sitting crookedly beside the driveway. She had got him that for Christmas last year, and every time she saw it she couldn't help but grin.

She was going to go back inside to try and get some more sleep, but there was a car coming down her driveway. Frankie started barking and she saw a light pop on in the house.

It was a police car.

She waited as it pulled up beside her. Hector was in the front seat, his arm resting in the open window. He stared at her with a sad, sad expression, and then got out. He handed her a folded flag with a suit resting on top of it. It was one of Mulder's suits.

"What is this?" she asked, blinking. Her head felt clouded.

Hector looked at the ground, scuffing his shoes around. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Scull could barely get the words out. "M-M-Mulder? Where is he?"

"I'm so sorry," Hector repeated.

Scully stirred violently from her nightmares. She was in her room, sitting among her startled bedmates and a pile of white blankets. Her heart banged against her ribcage. She fought against the sudden sadness that followed her awful, awful dreams.

Iden sat up with her, her little eyes wide. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Scully nodded, unable to find words.

"Was it about Fox?"

Her heart stuttered. "What? Why?" Had Iden had a vision about Mulder?

"You were saying his name in your sleep," Iden responded. She twisted her lips, pulling the covers back up to her chest. "I think he's okay. I would know if something happened to him."

Scully laid back. "It was just so real. I thought… I saw Parker on the couch, and Katie was sleeping in the guest room. I took the dog outside."

"Katie's dad went to work already," Iden said, "And Katie is on the couch."

Scully tried to force herself to relax. She had had a rough couple of days and it wasn't unheard of to experience vivid nightmares like that. She had experienced similar dreams when she and Mulder were dealing with the fetishist. Her mind had a tendency to cling to the darkest parts of every day.

Iden snuggled a little closer to her, her eyes luminous in the moonlight. "Fox is gonna be okay. He's cold right now, and lost, but I think he's safe."

"How do you know he's lost?"

"I don't know," Iden said simply, apparently not at all concerned for him. "He's safe, though."