17.


In my fields of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me


Her body felt light, as though it were floating, but her mind was heavy, dragging her down through the greyness and plunging her toward the ground with a terrifying speed that jarred her awake. She gasped, opening her eyes and flinching at the brightness.

"Oh, Dana, sweetheart!" her mother whispered, her weathered face close to Scully's

Scully frowned, staring. "Mom?"

"It's me, sweetheart," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

Scully frowned, trying to remember what had happened. Why she was here. "I'm okay," she murmured, closing her eyes. Her head hurt and her eyes ached, but she was fine. Exhausted, but fine. "What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" her Mom asked, stroking her forehead.

"I remember running," Scully said slowly, "with Adam. And then Krycek… Where's Mulder?" she demanded. "And Adam? I need to see Adam!"

"Shhh, Dana, it's okay," her mother murmured softly.

"No," Scully moaned, trying to fight the heaviness in her eyelids. "No, I need to see them, Mom."

"Soon," her mother promised, and then the darkness claimed her again, thick and warm and light.


Mulder was there, she thought dreamily, holding her hand and rubbing her fingers.

"Hey, Scully," he said softly. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, concerned at the bruises on his cheek and the sling she glimpsed.

"Hey yourself," she whispered.

"You feeling better?" he asked hopefully.

She sighed, relaxing. "Yes, actually," she admitted. "I… What happened, Mulder?" she asked.

"We washed up on shore, Scully, and the fire fighters found us."

"Where's Adam?" she asked. His fingers tightened on hers almost imperceptibly, but she felt it. "Don't," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Don't tell me Krycek…"

"We can't find them, Scully. We can't find them anywhere. Skinner's been following every lead and every possibility, but there's nothing."

She uncurled her fingers from his, thrusting them under her sheets and twisting her body away from his. Her baby. He'd stolen her baby.

"Scully," Mulder said.

"I want to sleep now, Mulder," she said stiffly, waiting for him to leave.

He didn't leave though; his hand clasping her arm and forcing her back onto her back. "No, Scully," he said firmly. "No, you're not going to do this alone."

"I'm not doing anything," she said angrily, struggling against him. But she was too weak and too tired and she was dying inside. "Just let me sleep."

His mouth was a tight line of grief and fear, she realised. "Okay," he relented. But instead of leaving her like she expected him to, he pulled the covers back from her and sat himself on the bed next to her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Sleeping," he responded, easing himself down. He winced as he moved his arm – she guessed he'd dislocated it when they hit the water – and settled himself next to her on the narrow bed, pulling her close.

"You can't sleep here, Mulder," she said.

"Why not?"

Why not? Because she wanted to be alone. She wanted to mourn for her child alone. To feel the anger and grief and-

"We're going to find him, Mulder," she said suddenly.

His arm tightened around her waist and he buried his nose in her hair. "No, we're not going to, Scully," he said simply.

"You're just giving up?" she demanded. "After a few days, you're giving up?"

"It's been two weeks, Scully, and yes, I'm giving up."

"You, the man who searched for your sister for over twenty years, are giving up on your son after two weeks?"

"Yes," he said again. "I have to, Scully."

"Why?" she demanded.

She could see the emotions warring in his eyes as he looked at her, feel the grief in his fingers as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and traced the line of her jaw. "Because I made a deal to save you," he admitted, closing his eyes. "I had to choose, Scully. You or Adam. And I chose you."

She wished he hadn't told her.

"Go," she said stiffly.

"Scully, I-"

"I want you to go, Mulder," she said quietly, fighting for control. "Please."

He pressed a kiss against her cheek and touched her lips with his fingers, nodded, and climbed out of her bed, leaving her alone in her room with only the monitors for company.

Scully stared up at the roof and waited to die.


Scully glared at her mother. "Mom," she said tiredly, "just leave it alone."

"No," her mother said firmly. "I won't. I've been leaving it, Dana, and I'm watching you get worse and worse. Skinner and Fox told me what happened. About your son-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Mom!" Scully snapped angrily. "Don't you understand that? I don't want to talk about it!"

Her mother bit on her lip, running a quick hand through her greying hair. "At least talk to Fox. For goodness sake, Dana, he's lost his son too!"

Scully stared at her mother. "He let him go, Mom," she whispered. "He gave him up."

Her mother's arms were strong and comforting as they wrapped around Scully, and for the first time since she woke, Scully let herself lean into her mother's embrace and relax, accepting the comfort she was offered.

"What would you have done? If you had to choose between Fox and your son, who would you have chosen?"

Scully flinched at the question, closing her eyes and burying her face against her mother. "I can't make that choice," she whispered softly.

"But Fox had to make it," her mother said gently. "And don't think he's taking his decision lightly. He could either lose you, and risk not finding your son despite searching; or he could choose you and have one certainty."

She pushed her mother away. "You believe him about the chip and the cancer and my abduction?" she asked softly.

"You're sitting here, getting better for the second time because of a chip he procured for you. How could I not believe?" was the whispered response.

Scully nodded, her eyes stinging with tears.

"Get some sleep now, Dana, and when you wake up I want you to talk to Fox."

"Okay," Scully agreed. "Thanks, Mom."

Her mother smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And," she added conversationally, "this means I don't have to worry about you as much."

"Why?" Scully asked.

"When you get married you'll want to spend more time at home and less time putting yourself in danger."