Scully walked into ground zero of a major catastrophe as when she arrived at Buckhead General hospital. One of Atlanta's top three trauma centers, the facility was living up to its reputation. When Scully entered the hospital, she walked into a sea of green and blue scrubbed dressed men and women; some pushing gurneys as though they could break the sound barrier, some calling for supplies and information. More than one doctor walked past her with blood on their garments all working furiously because someone's life depended on it. Scully hoped that one of those lives belonged to her daughter.

Scully tried in vain to stop several doctors and ask them for information, but to no avail. As her level of frustration grew, she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. She turned to face a petite woman with dark auburn hair. The frantic look in her eyes perfectly mirrored all the emotions Scully held inside. "I'm sorry," the woman said, "do you work here? Are you an administrator? Please; I'm just trying to find my daughter. My husband's parking the car - we've called all the hospitals in the area, and they said my daughter might be here...." Before Scully could answer, the woman pleaded for an answer as much with her eyes as she did with her voice. "Please help me. I haven't seen my daughter in two days. We fought and I don't know if I'll ever see her again..."

The woman's voice cracked and she stopped, unable to finish the sentence. Scully gently touched the woman's arm. "Wait here; I'll see what I can do." Scully walked over to the nurse's station. It was obvious that the hospital was understaffed, especially in light of the current emergency. The RN on desk duty seemed permanently attached to the phone, no sooner did she finish one call than another call took its place. Scully realized that she was going to have to interrupt the phone conversation if she was ever going to get any answers. "Excuse me," Scully began. "One second," the RN replied as she cut her off. Scully tried again. "Excuse me.." "Excuse me" the nurse replied, "I'll be with you in one second." Scully finally took out her badge, and held it directly in front of the RN's nose. "Excuse me," Scully said firmly, "but you'll be with me right now." The RN could not ignore Scully or her badge; she put the call on hold. "What can I do for you?" the RN tersely replied. "I was told two Jane Does were brought into the hospital over the past twenty-four hours; is that correct?" "I don't know; I'll have to check," the RN replied. She went into the hospital's database to look for an answer. "Yes," the nurse replied, "that is correct. The physician on duty was Dr. Phillip Wescott." "Is he on duty now?" Scully asked. "Yes," the nurse replied, "I'll page him."

Scully never left her post at the nurse's station the five minutes it took for the doctor to arrive, and Dr. Wescott finally arrived after what seemed to be an eternity. Scully walked over to meet him after the nurse pointed her out to him. "What can I do for you, Agent?" he replied. It was obvious to Scully that the good doctor wanted to be anywhere than where he was at that moment. Scully showed the doctor her badge. "My name is Agent Dana S. Mulder, I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," she began. "I was informed that you were the doctor on duty when two Jane Does were brought in." "That's correct," replied the doctor. "Have they been identified, and if not, I'd like to see them," Scully answered. "For questioning? Good luck," The doctor replied, "One's dead and one won't talk; she's been catatonic since they brought her in..."

The sharp cry made both people turn around. The woman whom Scully agreed to help had moved closer to where Scully was standing, and overheard the conversation. She had grown pale and looked as though she may pass out at any time. When Scully turned around to address the doctor, he had moved down the hall, and was speaking to an associate. "Dr. Wescott, we are not finished," she called after him. "Well, please tell me when we are," the doctor snapped. Scully walked towards him and continued to speak as she walked. "Dr. Wescott, I don't know what kind of a day you've had, but I've just spent two and a half hours crammed in the last available seat on a full plane..." "Well, let me enlighten you, Agent;" the doctor replied. "Because some legislators with their heads up their asses decided eighty was a safe traveling speed on the interstate, I've spent the last eight hours in triage. Yep, that's right - the proverbial school bus full of kids lost control and rolled end over end down the road like a kid's toy, and I've been trying to put together what's left of them and those I can't, I've had to tell their parents. So forgive me if my bedside manner isn't what you would call adequate, Agent Mulder..."

"Mom? Mom?"

The two women heard the voice when they passed an open door. The woman who had befriended Scully was closest to the room. She ran back, and stood in the doorway. Scully didn't know what would happen next, and unsure of what to do, she stayed in behind. If it was the woman's daughter, she didn't want to intrude on her family reunion. If it was the woman's daughter, it would also mean that her daughter Meena, was DOA. Scully held her breath, and waited to see what the woman would do next.

The woman stopped and stood in the doorway. After a minute, she went inside.

Scully's heart stopped.

"Agent Mulder, are we finished here?" Dr. Wescott asked. "No," Scully replied. "I need to see your morgue." Something in Scully's voice made Dr. Wescott pause. "I'll take you there," he replied. "It's right this way."

It took every ounce of strength Scully possessed to move from that spot. As she turned to leave, she saw the woman come out of the room, burry her head in her hands, and weep. Instinct told Scully to go over to the woman. When Scully reached the woman, she looked up at her.

"It's not her," she replied, and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Mom?"

Scully walked into the room, and faced her missing daughter.

"Mom, I'm so sorry.... I'm so sorry, Mommie; I didn't mean to make you worry..."

Scully embraced her daughter and said a thousand Hail Marys in thanksgiving that her daughter was alive. When her tears and those of her daughter subsided, Scully kissed her daughter on the cheek, and told her she would return.

When the woman was able, Scully went with her to the morgue and stayed with her until the woman's husband arrived.

Meena had been given a light sedative, and was asleep when Scully came back to her room. For a minute, she stood in the doorway, almost holding her breath. She closed her eyes and waited for the cruel twist of fate that would take away her daughter when she opened them. After a minute, she opened her eyes.

Meena was still there.

Scully entered the room, and stood at her daughter's bedside. As she looked down upon her sleeping child, Scully could still see the bruises and finger marks on her daughter's face and neck. While the sight shocked Scully, she knew how it would effect Mulder when he saw how his daughter had been abused. She knew that there was nothing she could say or do to soften the blow. In an effort to arm herself with information, Scully reached for the patient PDA on the nightstand. As she reached for the PDA, a light came on and the message "downloading patient update" flashed on the screen. Frustrated, Scully realized that if she wanted immediate information she was going to have to get in the old fashioned way. As Scully began to leave Meena's side, she turned over from her side on to her back. Scully waited to see if she would awaken, and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. As she did this, Meena's arm drifted across her stomach.

It was flat; perfectly flat.

Scully quickly moved out of Meena's room and over to the nurses' station. "I need you to page Dr. Wescott, please," she asked the nurse on duty. Dr. Wescott had his back to Scully, and turned around to face her. "No need," he said as he came out from behind the desk and stood in front of her. "What can I do for you, Agent?" "The second Jane Doe brought in while you were on duty is Melissa Wilhelmina Mulder, and if she sounds like she's related, she is. She's my daughter and because she's my daughter I know she was pregnant. Don't ask me to look at her patient PDA because I can't get at it. I need answers now - specifically, what happened to her child, and how did she get to your hospital?"