Scully heard the heavy wooden door close behind her, and found herself in a dark, dank passageway. Out of instinct, she turned to go back the way she came, but couldn't; the door was locked. As she pressed her ear against the door, she could still hear the sound of rushing water on the other side. She almost drowned in that water and would have were it not for Phoebe. Phoebe, the woman she had resented from the moment she met her. Phoebe, the woman who made no attempt to disguise her thinly-veiled overtures towards her husband. Phoebe, the woman who'd saved her life.

And she was on the other side of that door, in the rising water, trying to save two lives. Alone.

She should have stayed; she should have insisted she stay despite Phoebe's demands. A pang of guilt spread through Scully's gut as she banged on the heavy wooden door. "Phoebe!" she yelled, her voice reverberating through the stone corridor. "Phoebe, let me back in!" Scully banged repeatedly on the door until her hand was sore; she called out until her throat ached, but it was no use. Phoebe never answered.

It wouldn't be until much later that Scully would know why.

Scully shone the flashlight around the enclosure. As the light played against the stone walls, she could see where the mold and algae had been disturbed; smeared against the wall as if someone had pressed their back against it as they moved along. She followed the smears with her flashlight until they stopped at a place just beside the wooden door. Scully reached out to examine the wall. The moment her fingers applied the slightest bit of pressure, the wall yielded and gave way.

She found herself in a corridor that looked like a service or delivery entrance. She walked for what seemed like and eternity before she reached the end of the hallway, but she finally found herself standing in front of another door. She carefully studied it, looking for a handle or any other any visible means of entry. She felt as high along the molding as she could, looking for a spring or a release or a catch, but couldn't find one. The only place she hadn't touched was the place she couldn't reach; the last piece of molding high up on the door jamb.

Scully sank to the floor in desperation. She couldn't believe, she wouldn't believe she had come this far only to get caught between heaven and hell. She leaned against the door as tears began to pool in her eyes. She rested her head against the door and pounded the door in frustration, "Please, God; please..." she cried.

To her surprise and gratitude, the door opened, and she tumbled inside.

Scully stood up and searched the room, looking for a clue or a landmark to jar her memory. It was when she saw the fireplace that she realized where she was. She stood in the great room between the courtyard and the dining hall; the place where she and Mulder waited until they were seated for Phoebe's banquet. Scully thought about that night, about the love in Mulder's eyes as he looked at her in the foyer at Brittlegate Manor; the feel of his arms around her as they danced. Of how they found each other that night after drifting so far apart. It was the memory of that night, of that moment on the terrace, of his face as he kissed her that kept her going; it was the fear that she wouldn't get to her daughter in time that fueled her sense of urgency.

There was a door that stood next to the doors leading to the terrace. She walked over to it and stopped, placing her hand on the cool, smooth brass handle. "Please..." she whispered as she turned the handle. The handle responded, opening the door and leading her into another room.

She was in another corridor, and she could tell by one glance that it was completely different from the one behind the damp stone wall. It looked like part of the castle's living quarters, complete with decorative wall sconces and carved wooden doors. In the middle of the hallway, there was a mahogany side table against the wall with a vase of red roses, perfectly arranged in anticipation of an unknown guest.

Scully stood in the middle of the hallway, uncertain where she should go and where she should look for Mulder. She didn't know which of the doors led to her daughter, or even if

her daughter was still alive.

....And then she heard the gunshot.

*************************************************************************

When he left the dining hall, Mulder could tell he was in another hallway, but unlike the corridors he'd taken to get here, this hallway looked like part of the castle's living quarters. Decorative wall sconces hung at strategically marked places, and in the middle of the corridor against the wall was a huge mahogany side table with a vase full of lilies of the valley. Had it been any other time and under a different set of circumstances, this part of the castle could have passed for a lovely bed and breakfast or a five star hotel. But this wasn't any other time, and Mulder had other things and people to worry about.

Mulder looked at the series of carved wooden doors that led up and down the corridor, uncertain which one he should choose. Scully could be behind any one of the doors, or none of them at all. In a sense, finding Scully in Antarctica had been easier; he had a set of coordinates, he found the glass transport coffin that had held her.

His heart stopped when he thought of that coffin in the spaceship and of when he found her clothes and her cross. Despite his best intentions, he had felt certain that she was dead. He had the same feelings now, again despite his best intentions.

No;" he said to himself. "Not dead. She's not dead."

He decided to start with the last door at the intersection where the hallway met a narrow passageway. He placed his hand on the doorknob...

...And then he heard the gunshot.

***********************************************************************

When she came to, Meena didn't spend much time trying to get her bearings. She didn't know where she was and she didn't know exactly why she was there, but she knew couldn't stay in that room. The sense of impending danger was too strong for her to ignore, and she knew she didn't have much time.

Meena's legs were wobbly when she first stood up, and it took a few minutes for her legs to support her weight. She relied heavily on her arms, using them the hold her upright as she held onto anything and everything until she could walk steadily on her own. It was when she grabbed the nightstand that she saw it. A gun, left out in plain sight next to a medical bag and a full syringe. The sense of dread told Meena that whoever owned the gun and the syringe would be back, probably to use one or the other on her, if not both. She picked up the gun even though she did not know how to use it and bought it with her. She hoped the sight of it would be intimidating enough to protect her.

Meena stumbled down the hallway to its end, past the mahogany side table with a vase filled with gladiolas, and made a left into an intersecting passageway. Her next thought was to find her son, but she didn't know where to look. She didn't know where to begin until it hit her, and she remembered.

Her son was dead.

The fiery car crash came back to Meena in a wave of sorrow and guilt, and a lump formed in her throat. But then another image appeared to her; that of a hospital and of her holding a baby in her arms. Other images appeared to her: a funeral, a small white coffin, her family, her mother...

Her mother. And then she remembered she had died as well, gone in an instant in the same conflagration that had taken her son, Drew... It was all too much; it was all too overwhelming...

It was when she heard the gunshot that Meena started to run.

**********************************************************

It was when he heard the gunshot that Mulder started to run.

He made a left into the passageway, reaching for his gun out of habit. He almost stopped when he realized his weapon was of no use, damaged when he was submerged in the murky waters of the moat. "Shit!" he muttered under his breath, but it didn't matter. If he had to, he'd use his bare hands or anything else available to save his wife.

Mulder ran as fast as he could, pushing his battered and beaten body past the limits of normal endurance. It was a while before he found another break in the passage way, and he almost passed the next hallway. But it was the whiteness of the gladiolas that caught his eye. Mulder doubled back and proceeded slowly down the hallway, past the mahogany side table and vase filled with gladiolas. It was when he reached the end of the table that he saw the opened door. Mulder reached for his gun anyway, even though he knew it would not fire. If he had to, he'd use the butt of it to beat whoever had harmed his wife into a bloody mass. When he stood in the doorway, he realized he wouldn't have to. Mulder knew the man on the floor was dead; he could see the single gunshot wound to the head and the blood as it pooled in a halo around his head and upper torso. His mouth was open as if he tried to plead for his life, or send a prayer up to heaven for his soul.

As soon as Mulder noticed the hospital bed, his heart began to race. It was obvious that someone had been in the bed not too long ago. His thoughts instantly turned to Scully, and a lump formed in his throat. As his eyes traveled the length of the bed, he saw a chart hanging on the footboard. He picked it up and began to read. It wasn't until he saw the name that he knew Scully wasn't the patient.

"Mulder, Melissa Wilhelmina; DOB 05/15/2001."

Mulder threw the chart on the bed and frantically searched for other clues. He didn't find anything, didn't turn up anything until he moved the doctor's medical bag. A small vial began to roll off of the table, and he caught it just before it reached the edge. He examined it closely, and finally discovered what it was.

It was the analytic histamine that had been used to erase Meena's memory and brainwash her bit by bit. And it was empty.

**********************************************************************

It was when she heard the gunshot that Scully started to run.

The only weapon Scully had was the flashlight, and she wielded it like a club. It didn't matter to her that it could be Spender; it didn't matter to her that he was armed. If she had to, she'd rip him apart with her bare hands.

It took an eternity to make it down the long passageway to the next hallway, but when she came to the next hallway, she heard it. She stopped for a second, straining to listen over the sound of her rapid breathing and pounding heart. After a few seconds, she heard it again. Scully doubled back to the hallway and listened for the sound. She followed it down the hallway, past the mahogany side table with the vase filled with lilies of the valley. It was when she reached the end of the table that she discovered the source of the sound. It came from the other side of the door, and the sound got louder when she stood in front of the carved wooden door and opened it.

It was a baby, and in an instant, Scully knew it was her grandchild.

Scully walked over to the crib and picked up her grandson. It was evident that he had not been changed in quite some time, and Scully doubted he had been fed for a number of hours. She looked around the room, taking note that it wasn't even a proper nursery. There was a changing table with one pair of diapers on it, the only other piece of furniture beside the crib. The bast&rd hadn't even gotten formula or baby wipes. Scully's blood began to boil, and she swore she would rip the skin off Spender's body, strip by agonizing strip when she caught him.

Scully quickly changed the baby as best she could, and held him as she stripped down his crib. She turned over the mattress, silently thankful that it was at least had a waterproof cover. Then Scully did the hardest thing she ever did in her life.

She put the baby back in the crib, and prepared to leave.

"Oh, my God," she said as she stroked her grandson's cheek. "Grandma doesn't want to leave you, but she'll be back, I promise. She and mommie will be back soon." Scully bent down, and kissed her grandson's forehead.

"I love you," she whispered.

Scully closed the door behind her.

********************************************************************************

Mulder placed the vial in his pocket, and left the room. He ran his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to figure out his next move. It was obvious that Meena had to be transported to Sternwood; she was unresponsive and unable to move when he left her at the hospital. The guilt Mulder felt was overwhelming. He had left his daughter alone and unprotected, and the evil that dogged him snatched her away. This was his punishment. This was his fault. He was to blame.

And if his payment meant he had to sacrifice his life to save hers, he would do it.

Mulder stood in the hallway and looked to his left. It dead-ended into another hidden door, and Mulder had no idea where it went. He could go back the way he came, but he didn't know if that would lead him to his daughter. He looked to his right as he plotted his next move.

It was as he stood in front of the side table that he saw her.

**********************************************************************

Scully walked quickly down the passageway, her heart growing heavier with each step. She didn't want to leave her grandson, but it was the only thing she could do. She didn't know what she would find; she knew the danger she faced; and to take him with her would be foolhardy as well as dangerous. She hoped and prayed she would find Meena and her husband, or at least kill Spender before he found them. All of their lives depended on it

Scully didn't know where to turn when she reached the end of the hallway. If she turned right, she would only go back the way she came, and away from the direction of the gunshot. If she went towards to gunshot, there was no guarantee that Spender wasn't waiting there with a loaded weapon. He would take her down in a heartbeat, and she knew it. But she also knew her daughter could be there, injured and waiting for her help. Scully did the only thing she could do.

She went in the direction of the gunshot.

Scully carefully walked down the passageway, looking for the next hallway. She saw a break in the wall and walked towards it.

It was when she looked to her left that she saw him.

Mulder stood there, transfixed as if he saw an apparition. Scully mouthed his name in a whisper, almost as if she were afraid to say it aloud and he disappear. It was Scully who moved first, running down the hallway until she stood in front of him; until she was close enough to see the tears in his eyes.

"Scully...?"

It wasn't until she touched his face that he knew she was real. He dissolved into her and she into him in a reunion they thought would never come.

"Mulder, you're hurt..."

"I'm alright, Scully; My God; your head... The bump on your head..."

"It'll be fine.."

They held each other again, then broke away to look at each other. The reunion would have to wait until they were all safe, and they both knew it.

"Mulder..." Scully began.

"Meena's here, Scully."

"I know. And so's the baby.."

"Where, Scully?"

"The next hall over. We have to find Spender before he comes back; before he gets to Meena. He's going to kill her; he could have killed her already."

"That wasn't the gunshot, Scully. He killed somebody else; it looks like it may have been the doctor he hired...."

"Mulder, that doctor was supposed to give Meena a double dose of the analytic histamine in order to speed her memory loss. It could kill her Mulder."

The look on Mulder's face told her he'd made a frightening discovery.

"Mulder tell me. Please tell me; I need to know...Mulder PLEASE...?!"

"She wasn't there; she wasn't in the room."

The empty vial pressed against Mulder's leg through his pants pocket. He didn't have the heart to tell her that it might be too late.

******************************************************************************

Meena's steps were surer now, her legs growing stronger with each step. She ran as fast as she could, searching for any means of escape. After the longest eternity, she saw an open stairwell at the end of the passage way, next to a window that was across from the last hallway. Meena leaned on the windowsill when she reached it as she tried to catch her breath. She knew she shouldn't stop, she knew that she should keep going, but she was so tired....Meena looked at the window in a frantic attempt to see if she could jump. Through the flashes of lightening, wind and rain, she saw the swirling waters of the moat below. It was as she stood there, contemplating her fate, when she heard him.

"Hello, Meena."