Mulder stood in a daze, the red and blue lights moving farther away. He could feel the heat from the crashed car behind him. As the ambulance turned the corner, he awoke from his daze. Turning 180 degrees, he blindly ran through back yards and driveways to the Scully residence. Trying to catch his breath and control the sobs that were about to explode out of him, Mulder banged on the front door. Captain Scully swung the door open, and Mulder tried to explain the situation. He started hyperventilating, the lack of breath and impending tears catching up with him. The older man placed his hands firmly on the younger's shoulders.

"There….was an accident. Scully, Dana…ran into a street light. She…was conscious. Bu- but her….back…may be broken," Mulder let out a shaky breath and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to physically force his fear out of him. "She was taken to the hospital in an ambulance."

The older man—perhaps because he had more experience with emergency situations, perhaps becauee he had not seen the accident, or for some other unknown reason—remained calm and silent. Instead, he went further into his house to retrieve his wife. Mulder took the opportunity to return to his own home; he wanted to drive his own car to the hospital.

Mulder was already arguing with the ER nurse by the time the Scullys arrived at the hospital. The nurse would not release any information about Dana to anyone other than her family. Once again, Captain Scully's powerful hand came to rest on Mulder's shoulder.

Mulder went to sit with Mrs. Scully after Mr. Scully informed both of them that a doctor would speak to them concerning Dana's condition.

"Mr. and Mrs. Scully?" the doctor greeted them.

The three of them stood up. None of them spoke. Mr. Scully never was one for senseless formalities. It seemed neither was the doctor. He spoke in clipped, fast sentences, always getting straight to the point.

"It seems that Dana has suffered a mild concussion as a result of her automobile accident. I am not fully informed of the details of her accident, but the position of the point of impact suggests that she had hit her head on the steering wheel. This kind of forward jerking motion would also account for the injury she sustained in her back. She did not break it, as she feared, though she does have a serious sprain."

"What about the concussion?" Maggie Scully asked fearfully, clutching to her husband's forearm. "There's no permanent damage, is there?"

"No, nothing permanent. She has vomited, which is to be expected with head injury, so I'd like to keep her overnight for observation. After her release, she will probably not be able to leave her bed for another day or so. She'll be sore, but if she's careful, she won't sustain any serious pain."

"Can we see her, now?" Mr. Scully asked.

"Of course, she's in room 305. Now, don't be alarmed if she appears a little disoriented. That is a side affect of the painkillers."

The doctor nodded his farewell and left the three of them alone once again. Mulder offered buy Mr. and Mrs. Scully coffee, a polite attempt to give them time with Scully without him around. Mr. Scully nodded with a wink, and Dana's parents turned down the hall towards the elevators as Mulder walked towards the cafeteria. He bought two cups of coffee and wandered around the corridors so not to impose. He spotted the gift shop and started to look around.

The cashier looked on impatiently as Mulder browsed the aisle of stuffed animals. An annoyed sigh from the check-out counter indicated that it was indeed time for closing. It was after midnight, after all, and not even in the hospital can everything be a twenty-four hour service. Mulder grabbed a brown teddy bear and a "Get Well" card from the ridiculously huge selection ("Who knew that illness could be such a profitable business?" he mused) and handed them to the cashier. He handed the girl exact change and picked up the coffee cups, squeezing the teddy bear between his chest and left arm.

Once he made it out of the gift shop, he found Room 305 and sat in a chair outside of it. He placed the paper coffee cups in the seat next to him and grabbed a pen off of the nurses counter. Hastily, he scribbled a message to Scully and slipped the card into its envelope. A few moments later, Mr. Scully, followed by his wife, stepped into the hallway. Mulder handed them the almost-hot coffee and excused himself into Scully's room.

Tentatively, he entered the hospital room and quietly walked to Scully, who was lying in the typical hospital bed, and sat in the squeaky vinyl chair.

Scully turned toward him, a lazy smile forming across her face, "Hey." Her voice was raspy.

"I thought you were asleep," Mulder half-whispered to Scully as he moved a strand of her hair out of her face.

"No, I just feel funny."

"Are you hurting?" Mulder asked, concerned.

The same lazy smile seemed frozen to her face, "No, just…funny. Painkillers."

Mulder smiled, "I should go. You need your rest."

"Mulder, please don't go. I don't want to stay here by myself."

"Your mother's staying overnight. I don't think she'd appreciate me spending the night with her daughter, hospital or no," Mulder chuckled.

Scully let out a drug-induced giggle. "Okay," She squeezed his hand.

"I, um, got you something in the gift shop to make you feel better," Mulder said as he handed her the teddy bear and the card.

Scully's eyes focused on the stuffed animal. It was brown wit a big black nose. It was in a permanent sitting position and held a football under one arm. Scully fingered the football and looked at Mulder quizzically. He chuckled, but did not answer her unspoken question.

He leaned closer to her, "Your mother is bringing you home early tomorrow morning. The doctor said you'll probably sleep all day, but if you are awake, call me and I'll come stay with you."

"'Kay," she murmured, almost asleep, the bear clutched firmly under her left arm. Still, her lips responded to his good-bye kiss.

He gave her one last look before turning the light off and closing the door. After he had left, Scully reached over to the wire remote and turned on the bedside lamp. She pried the card out of its envelope (which was not all that easy with the painkillers and the pulse monitor on her index finger).

She let her eyes focus before reading the message. In his distinct handwriting, Mulder had written:

"No sense trying to tackle a lamppost. You are much better at taking out high school quarterbacks.

Yours,

M."

Scully laughed, though this one was not as painkiller-related as earlier. He always knew what to say, however strange. She drifted off to sleep, her lips still damp with his kiss.