"I don't understand."
"I don't get it either Mulder. I'm tired and I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. I just … I don't know how much longer I can take this."
They sat together on the floor, Scully in Mulder's lap, her head resting on his chest. She fiddled with the remaining piece of bread in her hands, trying to make the food last.
"Explain it to me again."
"I remember dying that night the most clearly. I could feel the bullet rip through and the pain that followed, but I mostly remember the quickness of it.
Being dead, Mulder, brings you a lot of peace. At first there's just solitude but then there's all this noise and it forces you to stop and look around, because one of the things about being dead, is that you don't go into heaven or hell, you just kind of stay put. You can see everything that happens around you but there's nothing you can do to stop it, so you learn to cope and find peace.
I traveled the world. I saw everything and then one day it just stopped. I was snapped away from serenity and I woke up.
Mulder, I don't know if I told you this, but I woke up in that coffin."
Scully's voice cracked and Mulder held her tight. He tenderly massaged her arms and coaxed her to continue.
"I woke up twice in that coffin. The first time, I was shocked. I didn't know where I was. I was ripped away from death and was put back into the living. It had to be the worse death because it was slow – because there was no where else to go. I screamed, I tried to get out; I even tried to sleep because I thought that if I slept, then maybe the death would be easier.
Suffocation is the worst way to die because the lack of oxygen does things to you. It makes you see things that you don't want to see. When it finally happened, I was so relieved. I couldn't understand why I was brought back, but I was relieved to be dead again.
I began to keep track of the days. The next time, it was four days until I woke up in that coffin again. I remember crying so much because I knew what was going to happen. I knew what was coming. But then I heard voices from above and I started to shout. I banged against the roof of the coffin trying to make as much noise as possible.
I don't remember how long it took, but when they finally reached me, I sucked in the air. I was so thankful and my first instinct was to ask for you, Mulder. I thought it was you who had come to rescue me, but it wasn't."
Scully paused and looked around the room, trying hard to avoid the guilty look on Mulder's face.
"They brought me here and tossed me into this room. For the first few days, I was left alone and I was scared. I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know where I was – I still don't. And then the tests began. At first it was quick, as if they were just trying to test the theory. Gun shots to the heart, neck, limbs, severed veins, poisons, suffocation.
But then they began to get more creative, drawing out the pain, taking pleasure in my torture. And when they found out that starvation wouldn't kill me either, they stopped bringing food in regularly, and I don't know how long that's been. I can feel what all of this has done to me but I can't escape. I can't rest."
"Scully, what are you trying to say?"
"I can't die Mulder. No matter how hard they try, I always come back. I know what it is that keeps me alive. It's that damned chip in the back of my neck."
Scully paused and Mulder did not want to push conversation. They stayed in silence until Scully decided that she had enough quiet to last her a lifetime.
"Talk to me Mulder."
"What?"
"Talk to me. Tell me anything. It's been too long since I've had a decent conversation with anyone – since I've heard your voice."
"What do you want to know?"
Scully thought for a moment, hesitating at first, but then proceeded with her question.
"How long have I been … dead?"
Mulder pretended to count in his head, but he knew the answer instinctively.
"Six months."
Scully mouthed the words to herself.
"Wow."
"Your mother took the news hard. She collapsed after seeing your body in the morgue. After the funeral, she moved away to live with your brother, Bill."
Scully nodded, taking it all in.
"What are we going to do from here, Mulder? How will we keep on living?"
"I don't know, Scully. I don't know."