Chapter 4

Something was wrong suddenly. He couldn't put his finger on what, but something had changed. Something in the color of the sunlight and the lake suddenly seemed...off.

Without warning his head began to pound. It wasn't just pain; he could feel his heartbeat in his head.

And then his eyes opened. He didn't remember closing them, but they opened. They opened stiffly, like they were gummy from sleep. He'd been sitting up a moment ago, and now he was lying down. It was dim here, where he'd just been in bright sunlight.

There were people here. He heard them in the dark.

"Where am I?"

His voice was weak, creaky. He felt weak all over.

"He's awake!"

Someone came into his line of sight, standing over him. He squinted to see in the dim light, and could make out a beautiful young African American woman. She was the one who'd spoken. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

There were two other people behind her, a man and a woman.

"Who are you?" Mulder croaked.

A second man pushed his way to the side of the bed. He was older, squat and withered, but with an impression of manic energy. "Do you know who you are?"

That answer could be dangerous, Mulder reminded himself. "I asked you first."

The blond woman sidled past the older man. She was pregnant, just beginning to show. "I'm FBI Agent Olivia Dunham. These are my colleagues Agent Astrid Farnsworth, Doctor Walter Bishop, and Peter Bishop. I'm sure this must be a little disorienting..."

"How did I get here?"

And why did he feel so weak?

"Do you remember your name?" the woman who'd identified herself as Agent Dunham asked.

"Can I see your badge?"

She showed him her badge, which he squinted at. It was blurry, and hard to make out in the weak light.

"Mulder," he said. "Fox Mulder."

"Do you know what year it is?" Dr. Bishop asked. He sounded like he legitimately wanted to know what year it was.

"2013."

"Fascinating."

That one word chilled him to the bone. "Why? What year is it?"

"2013. You're quite correct. Which is fascinating. Your brain has done a fabulous job of keeping track. That's zeitgeber for you."

"Where's Scully?" he asked uneasily, urgently.

The two FBI agents exchanged glances.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Agent Dunham inquired.

"I was on a boat on a lake in Italy...with Scully. Where is she?"

"When was that?"

"Just barely." He tried to sit up, but was suddenly overcome with dizziness and weakness and fell back into the bed.

"Orthostatic hypotension," Dr. Bishop pronounced. "Please don't try to move too suddenly."

"What happened? Where's Scully?"

"Agent Mulder," Dunham said soothingly, "please try to remain calm. You've been in a coma for the past fifteen years. You're currently recovering from brain surgery."

He reached up and touched a bandage taped to his head. The dull sensation he felt there confirmed his suspicion that he was on pain meds. He shook his head. "You're lying! This is a trick. Where's Scully? Scully!"

"Please don't shout; you could give yourself a brain aneurysm."

The short burst of panicked energy suddenly abandoned Mulder. His head sank into the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Where's Scully?" he repeated, his raspy voice almost a whimper.

"She disappeared the same night you got the bullet to the head that put you in a coma," said Peter. "Do you remember that? The X-Files had been shut down, you'd been investigating the bomb threat that was called in before the Dallas Federal Building bombing and you were put on administrative leave. Then you were found in the street outside your apartment with a bullet in your brain."

"I remember. Scully was stung by a bee. It infected her with the alien virus. She was abducted, taken to an alien spaceship in Antarctica. But I saved her."

"He's delirious," Astrid said.

"No, he's interpreting the electrical firings of his synaptic cells in response to the trauma caused by the bullet," Walter said.

"But the X-Files were reopened. I went to the Bermuda Triangle and went back in time to a Nazi ship. We found out about the supersoldiers, and I found out the Smoking Man was my father. And the batboy. And there was a genie who gave me three wishes. My first wish was for world peace and she made everyone else in the world disappear. Then everyone thought I was dead, except Scully."

"I think the word for that is 'delirious'," Peter stated.

"And Scully was pregnant," Mulder continued. Fatigue was gaining on him, and his words were quiet and slurred. "We had a son. She named him William. Both of our fathers were named William."

Peter glanced involuntarily at Olivia.

"How interesting. I believe when his brain was cut off from outside stimuli, it compensated by creating an elaborate explanatory narrative," Walter said.

"I believe we should let him alone for a while," Astrid said barely above a whisper.

Mulder had grown silent, and his eyes were closed. He was either quietly mulling the reality he'd just woken up to, or asleep.

Olivia and Peter walked out of the room ahead of Walter, who was practically shooed out by Astrid, who stayed behind to check Agent Mulder's vitals.

"I'm not sure how much help he's going to be," Peter confided.

"Sometimes the question to ask is how much help you will be."

Peter frowned, wondering what exactly his father meant by that statement.