Scully looked at the clock and sighed. She was sure time had gone at half speed all night. How could it only just be six am? She hadn't slept at all, but then that was no surprise. She had difficulty sleeping anyway, now that she was coming to terms with the possibility she had put her son in more danger than he had been in her care, she was finding it difficult to draw breathe let alone think about getting up and facing the world. Somehow she searched deep down and found the strength to get out of bed and call in sick at work. There were some things that took priority over teaching a group of enthused cadets how to be screwed over by their employees as she had considered herself to be by the FBI.
By seven thirty she'd showered and dressed and was now sitting with a mug of coffee, stirring the liquid contents as if she was waiting for them to form a pattern, something instructing her on what to do next. How could she have let this happen? She had believed that this was best for William; he was safer away from her and from anything to do with the X-Files. But now he was in danger and she had no idea how to find him or what she was supposed to do to begin her search.
There was also the chance that this was all a hoax and that it hadn't even been Mulder who they were communicating with. Would he really just come into the open like that and expose himself to John at the FBI as a way of warning? It was so out of character and not at all like him. But then he hadn't always been a father looking out for his son, when it came to family Mulder would lay his life down in an instant. So no matter how much Scully debated whether this was all really happening or whether it was a bad dream, she was going around in circles and could think of nothing that would put her on a straight path forwards.
As she left her apartment a little after eight am, Scully had no idea that she was just about to miss one of the most important phone calls of her life. How was she to know that Mulder had found a way to call her, had known how much doubt she would have in his messages to John, had known that she was in the X-Files office last night even after being told she wasn't? But none of this could be discussed, because the phone was ringing, but there was nobody home.
Mulder let the phone ring out for longer than he should have. If there was no immediate answer, she wasn't home. He knew this. But she wasn't at work either, so where was she? He hoped she was ok, hope was all he could do, he couldn't risk getting anywhere near her, this phone call had been his one chance, the only chance. He wouldn't be able to call again; he refused to believe that there weren't people listening in to her phone line, tapping into her life, it made his stomach turn that he couldn't protect her, that he couldn't keep her personal life just as it should be, personal.
He replaced the receiver and rested his head for a split second on the phone booth. He'd wanted so badly to hear her voice, hear her say his name, her soft warm tone, making even the darkest of moments seem bearable. He needed her so much, more than she'd ever know. But he'd let her down, and now his one chance to talk to her, to advise her on what to do, on how to protect William, was blown. He had no plan B, and no one he could go to for help or support. Mulder didn't like how near the end of the road he felt. He wasn't a quitter, and this was his son, there was nothing in the world he wouldn't risk for his safety. Right now William's safety was everyone's priority, and yet the one thing everyone was drawing a blank on.