Mulder was moving downwards at a snail's pace, mostly slug-sliding on his butt, as his left foot was almost useless.
He might have broken bones in his left ankle, or, if he were lucky, was just suffering a severe but painful as hell sprain; Scully would tell the difference —if only I could have her medical hands on me.
Mulder had done what he could with what he had, securing the bad ankle with wood sticks and his belt, hoping it wasn't worsening his injury. He was nevertheless trying to avoid putting weight on his left foot by lack of any medical advice.
Another concern was the wound at his temple, surely a nasty one, that he had hidden under a weird bandage improvised with his handkerchief and his undershirt —damn, how I miss having a tie today. The pounding pain was still there but manageable, like a cringing background music one's brain would put aside yet debilitating inner nerve cells by its persistence.
And then, there were all his other minor injuries, the soreness, and the fatigue; all things he could overcome but made his gestures clumsy and precarious.
Scully, if you could see me, looking like a cartoonesque Rambo… Without the biceps and the skills to survive alone in the jungle.
One more risky descent down abrupt rocks and, finally, Mulder reached the stream and fresh water.
He smiled.
XXXXXX
Scully was climbing down the subtle trail like a mountain goat despite her exhaustion and her achy muscles, her feet sure and her hands securing her descent.
She was on a mission and she would only rest when reaching her goal, finding Mulder and putting her medical eyes and hands all over his body —let's hope he's okay and that I can easily fix any injury he might have.
Moving at a steady pace reassured Scully's confidence. She wondered how, earlier, she had let anxiety invade her thoughts; she wouldn't let it happen again, even if the worse awaited her ahead.
Death had never been an option since her way back from coma all those years ago —I'm meant to stay alive as I was back then, even if he's no more by my side.
Her left hand came right away to her neck. Caressing her scar, once again; feeling a real or imaginary slight buzz, once again.
Maybe she should embrace the presence of the chip in her flesh as a gift or a promise. Maybe there was more to it than a cure for cancer or a summon to third encounters; it could be a give-and-take between her and the stranger device, like the sensation she was experiencing right now, seemingly leading and strengthening her choices.
Keep an open mind… What would be Mulder's take on it?
Finally, Scully reached a huge rock overhanging a gentle stream below.
A short rock climbing wouldn't stop her and she hastily began her descent with hands and feet, facing the rock, and smiling.