A fusion of voices became mangled in Scully's mind, whispering and mumbling strange words that she couldn't quite make out. Was she dreaming? She felt like she was moving, yet when she tried to move her arms and legs, they wouldn't cooperate. Was she floating on air?

She couldn't speak. She could tell her eyes were closed, but there was a bright light shining from somewhere off in the distance. And then there were terrifying sounds, like machinery being switched on, metal rubbing against metal, grinding, twisting, and snapping.

She felt nothing except a cold numbness that swept throughout her body. It didn't hurt, but it didn't seem right, either. No, something was very wrong. More voices and more terrorizing sounds kept crowding her in. It was getting so loud, so jumbled up, so overwhelming. She knew it wasn't safe. She wanted to run away. But how could she escape this place?

Mulder climbed up the grassy hill near Skyland Mountain. This was the only place he could think of to start looking for Scully. It's where they took her before. He didn't want to remember; he had suppressed those dark memories in the back of his mind and thought he would never have to retrieve them. But now it was happening all over again. And this time Mulder was out for blood. Whoever did this WILL die.

Mulder was all alone in this. His informant had been dead for months, and he knew Skinner wouldn't be able to do anything. Skinner would probably just say, "Go home, Mulder. You're too close to this case."

Of course he was too close. How could he not be? They know that Scully is his downfall; take her out of the equation and he loses his will to live. When did she become so much a part of him? Did the conspirators plan it that way from the beginning, when they set her up with him, or did it just happen on its own? Either way, the strongest of bonds had been formed, and Mulder was dying a slow, painful death from being torn apart from her.

When Mulder reached the top of the hill, he stopped to listen to the silence. The sky was illuminated with thousands upon thousands of stars. At any other time, Mulder would have considered the view inspiring. But now it was just very lonely. He felt like one tiny grain of sand, alone in an infinite universe. Scully could be anywhere. But she wasn't here. He just knew. He was wasting his time.

"How is it that you never die, no matter how many bullets are put through your head?"

"How is it that you can never get things right the first time, Alex?" The Smoking Man said wryly.

"I should kill you now, with my bare hands." Krycek snapped back.

"But you won't, because you're a coward. And besides, you need me." The Smoking man blew a puff of smoke directly into Krycek's face. Krycek ignored it.

"You'd like to think so, Old Man."

"Cut the crap, Alex. Why are you here?"

"Let's just say I heard about your latest kidnapping scandal. I came to take back what's rightfully mine."

"What's rightfully yours? Who are you to know what is right?"

"This has gone on long enough. You shouldn't have let Mulder take that extra chip. I want it back. It's the only copy left."

"You really think that chip is the only copy left?" The Smoking Man laughed. "You're more naive than I thought, Alex. The project will go on. Things are finally falling into place for us. The chip has been thoroughly tested now, thanks to Scully."

"You should have let her die. She is no use to us anymore. They won't take her again."

"On the contrary, she could be the key to everything we've ever wanted." The Smoking Man walked over to the window to look outside and drew another puff from his Morley. "We've made the necessary adjustments." He turned back to look at Krycek. "It's in your best interest to see that she stays alive."

"Maybe. But then again, maybe not," Krycek said as he left the room.