Scully was striding fast and efficiently downstream, convinced she would soon find Mulder.
She had tried to call him twice on the talkies —no answers— but it didn't lower her hopes. Her heart just knew, as she had known on a few occasions in the past.
Mulder is close, safe.
"MULDER!" she yelled on a regular basis while walking, her cry a long and strong lifeline launched into the green sea.
XXXXXX
His stomach full, as well as his pockets packed with fake apples, his brain high on sugar and dopamine, Mulder resumed his walk upstream and along the waters, his face not wincing anymore.
Even his limp had become smoother and his constant pain easily dismissed.
Blessed be the fruit.
Still yelling his regular Scullys, his ears wide-awake to any hint of Scully's presence nearby, Mulder was confident —and impatient.
XXXXXX
After what could have been minutes or hours —their sense of time blurred and distorted by their restlessness— a furious noise was now prevailing for both of them over everything else.
They were both heading towards a waterfall, majestic and tumultuous, one last obstacle in the path of their so awaited and belated reunion.
"SCUUULLLAYYYYY!" Mulder shouted upwards when reaching the bottom of the waterfall, as powerfully as he could over the busterious waters.
"MULDER? MUUULLDEERR!" Scully shouted back as fiercely.
She stepped cautiously to the very left edge of the precipice, looked down, then sighed, relieved.
Mulder, at last.
XXXXXX
Nature and fate couldn't meddle with two trained FBI partners and lovers any longer, especially when they had been parted for too many hours.
They were utterly tired, obviously, even injured and diminished in Mulder's case, but not resourceless and resigned. On the contrary, the sight of each other had reinvigorated their stubbornness and their tenacity and put their minds in sync despite the difficulty of a proper oral communication —the waterfall was still as deafening as ever.
They quickly agreed on a course of action: Mulder would climb the rocks along the right side of the waterfall, and, when arrived at mid-height, would be secured and helped by the short improvised rope Scully had managed to craft. It was the less risky and the most reasonable option under the circumstances, all things considered, especially when anticipating their future way out of Deep Valley.
Sure, Mulder was suffering and struggling with his bad ankle, but the first part of the climb was the easiest. And, with the rope wrapped under his armpits, Scully pulling hard on its other side, Mulder got over the second part of the ascent during interminable and excruciating minutes. Then, to overpass the hard final overhang, Scully offered her hands and the strength of her arms.
When he grabbed Scully's forearms, feeling her warm flesh then the soft but firm grip of her fingers over his wrists, Mulder instantly released his inner tension, letting out a deep loud moan as well as heavy tears.
He was finally in safe hands and it was all what mattered.