As Scully changed into the comfortable clothes Monica had brought her, she felt a subtle but welcome sense of normalcy begin to return. The soft, familiar fabric felt like a shield against the sterile confines of the hospital, a small comfort in the midst of chaos. The hospital gown she had worn for the past night felt too tight, too intertwined with the trauma she was still processing. Now, in her own clothes, she could almost pretend, if only for a moment, that life might go on.
Monica watched her quietly, then smiled softly as Scully straightened up. "You look much better," she said gently, stepping forward to help with the small details—fixing a loose strand of hair, smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Scully feel just a little more like herself.
As they started toward the hospital exit, a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety settled in Scully's chest. Her body still ached from the ordeal, and her mind was far from clear, but the prospect of leaving this place, stepping back into the world, felt surreal. The sterile walls that had kept her safe now felt stifling. She needed to breathe fresh air again, to find her footing outside of these halls.
Just as they reached the corridor leading to the exit, Monica hesitated, glancing over at Scully with a seriousness that cut through the small bit of comfort they'd found. "I wanted to let you know... Assistant Director Micucci has assembled a team. Some of the best people in the field. They're on it."
Scully paused mid-step, her brow furrowing as she tried to process what that meant. "Why Ritualistic and Hate Crime?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly as the words escaped before she could fully consider their weight. The thought of what had happened to her and Mulder being labeled as something so dark, so calculated, sent a chill down her spine. It made everything feel even more sinister than it already was.
Monica sighed softly, her eyes never leaving Scully's. "Given the specifics of the case—the way you and Mulder were targeted, the things they said to you—it matches those patterns. There are indicators, clues that point to something deeper. The way your captors operated... it wasn't random."
Scully swallowed, the weight of Monica's words pressing down on her. "So they weren't just... kidnappers?" The question felt almost rhetorical, as though she already knew the answer but needed to hear it said aloud.
"No." Monica's voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. "They had a purpose. We need to figure out what that purpose was. It's not just about what happened to you and Mulder. There's more to it, and that's what we have to uncover."
Scully's pulse quickened as they reached the doors, the cool rush of outside air seeping into the hospital hallway. The world beyond the doors felt vast and uncertain, a place she wasn't sure she was ready to face just yet. The thought of the people who had done this still being out there, plotting, sent a shiver down her spine.
"What if they're still out there?" Scully whispered, her voice laced with fear. The question hung in the air between them, a cold truth neither wanted to confront but both knew they had to.
Monica placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, offering a quiet but fierce reassurance. "That's why we've got the best people on this. We won't stop until we know who they are, why they did this, and how to stop them. You and Mulder will be protected. We'll get to the bottom of this, Scully."
Scully nodded, her mind racing as she struggled to make sense of everything. The trauma, the uncertainty, the looming fear that this wasn't over yet. But she knew she couldn't let it paralyze her. They had to fight back.
Taking a deep breath, Scully squared her shoulders and met Monica's eyes with renewed resolve. "Okay," she said quietly but firmly. "Let's do this."
With that, they stepped through the hospital doors, the cool breeze hitting Scully's face as the world outside greeted them. It was daunting, but it was the first step toward answers. Toward justice. Toward reclaiming control. And she wasn't going to stop until they found it.
As Scully stepped through the hospital doors, the cool breeze hit her face like a gentle reminder that she was free, that the ordeal was behind her—at least for now. Yet as she inhaled the fresh air, her thoughts drifted back to Mulder. A wave of concern washed over her. She turned to Reyes, her voice laced with worry. "Will Doggett take good care of Mulder? He's not exactly great at looking after himself, especially when he's in distress."
Reyes met her gaze, understanding the unspoken bond between the two agents. She'd heard rumours about Mulder's self-destructive tendencies, and she knew that his current state of mind would make things even harder for him. "Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I'll make sure he's taken care of."
Reaching into her pocket, Reyes pulled out her phone and dialed Doggett's number, keeping her eyes locked on Scully as the phone rang. "Hey, John," she said as he answered. "I just wanted to check in on Mulder. He needs to be taken care of. You know how he is when he's not himself."
There was a brief pause as Doggett responded. Reyes listened intently, nodding as he reassured her that he would keep an eye on Mulder. "Good. Just make sure he eats something and rests," she continued, her tone firm but caring. "And remind him that it's okay to lean on you. He needs you right now."
As Reyes hung up, she looked at Scully, a soft smile gracing her lips. "He'll be fine. Doggett's got it covered. You know how stubborn Mulder can be, but John knows how to handle him."
Scully felt a small weight lift from her chest. She appreciated Reyes's reassurance, knowing that Mulder would need support as he navigated his own recovery. "Thank you, Monica," she said, her voice sincere. "It means a lot."
"Anytime," Reyes replied, her expression warm. "Now let's get you home."
With a renewed sense of purpose, Scully took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—knowing that she had friends who would stand by her and Mulder every step of the way.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Mulder was sitting quietly in the passenger seat, ears pricking at the mention of his name. He exchanged a glance with Doggett, who was focused on the road but could feel the tension radiating from his partner.
"Is this Reyes?" Mulder interjected, his voice hoarse but determined. He could hear the conversation clearly, the worry in Scully's voice echoing in his mind. "Is something wrong with Scully?"
Doggett's gaze shifted, concern etched on his face as he realized Mulder was awake enough to be listening in.
"Agent Scully is fine," Doggett assured, his tone steady but protective. "She's worried you might not take good care of yourself."
"Monica is just making sure I know," Doggett continued, glancing sideways at Mulder, who was already moving, eyes intent.
"Give me the phone," Mulder demanded, his voice firm despite the fatigue that weighed heavily on him.
Doggett hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to protect Mulder and the need to let him speak. Finally, he relented, passing the phone over, knowing he couldn't risk Mulder straining himself too much.
"Reyes," Mulder said, urgency filling his voice. "Scully will tell you that she's fine and that she wants to be alone. Don't believe her."
Reyes smiled softly at her end of the phone, her voice soothing. "I know, Agent Mulder. You don't have to worry. We're all here for both of you, and you can count on me to keep an eye on her."
The reassurance in her words washed over him, giving him a sense of relief amidst the storm of emotions. "Make sure she knows that she's not alone," he urged, his voice cracking slightly.
"Trust me," Reyes replied, her tone confident. "I'll make sure she knows that. And you need to take care of yourself, too, Mulder. We're not going anywhere."
As they hung up, Mulder felt a flicker of gratitude for the support surrounding them. He glanced at Doggett, who looked at him with understanding, knowing that their recovery would require them to lean on each other and their close ones. Together, they would navigate the uncertain road ahead, step by step, united in their resolve to heal.
As the car rolled through the city, a thick air of unspoken tension enveloped the interior. Doggett stole glances at Mulder, who sat beside him, seemingly lost in the tempest of his thoughts. The shadows under Mulder's eyes spoke volumes, each one a testament to the weight of the trauma they had endured together.
"Skinner and Micucci made sure that every FBI psychologist and therapist cleared their schedules for you two," Doggett said, trying to bridge the silence that stretched between them like an insurmountable chasm. He cleared his throat, sensing the gravity of the moment. "I may not be your first choice, but I'm right here. If there's anything you need to get out of your system right now, I'm here."
Mulder turned his gaze to the window, watching the cityscape blur past, a kaleidoscope of memories and pain. For a moment, he remained silent, grappling with the turmoil inside. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, tinged with guilt that threatened to consume him. "I traumatized my partner. I injured her so badly she needed surgery. She's always stood by my side, even when I had my crazy moments. How could I do that to her?"
Doggett's expression softened, understanding the weight of Mulder's words. "You didn't do this to her, Mulder. You were forced into a situation beyond your control. You both fell victim to those sick bastards. It's not your fault."
"But it feels like it is," Mulder insisted, frustration rising like a tide. "I was supposed to protect her. I should have been the one to keep her safe, and instead, I became a part of the nightmare."
"You didn't have a choice," Doggett replied firmly, grounding his voice with the conviction of someone who had seen the darkness firsthand. "You were manipulated, just like Scully was. Those people wanted to break you both. Don't let them take away your responsibility for each other, especially when you didn't choose this."
Mulder looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap, his knuckles white with tension. "I keep replaying it in my head. Every moment, every choice… I should have fought harder. I should have found a way to get us out."
"Easy to say with the benefit of hindsight," Doggett replied gently, recognizing the weight of Mulder's self-reproach. "You did what you could in that moment. Scully is a fighter, and she knows what you both went through. She wouldn't want you to carry this alone."
Mulder's jaw tightened, his internal struggle evident. "But she's the one who has to deal with the aftermath. She's the one who's going to have to recover from this."
"Yeah, and she's going to need you there to help her through it," Doggett said, glancing over at Mulder, whose expression was heavy with concern. "You two are in this together. Lean on each other. You've faced hell before, and you can face it again."
As the words hung in the air, Mulder took a deep breath, grappling with the flicker of hope amidst the turmoil. Doggett was right; he and Scully had always managed to find their way back to each other, no matter the odds. With that thought, he resolved to be there for her as she recovered, even if it meant facing the darkness together.
Mulder turned to Doggett, his expression a blend of desperation and vulnerability. "If you were me, what would you do?"
Doggett took a moment, contemplating the weight of the question. "If I had had to hurt Monica the way you were forced to hurt Scully? I won't lie, Mulder. I count my blessings I don't have to think about it." He glanced at Mulder, his expression serious, the gravity of their situation heavy between them. "But if I were in your shoes, I'd try to focus on healing. For both of you."
Mulder's brow furrowed, frustration mixing with confusion. "Healing? It's not that simple. How do I even begin to fix what's broken?"
"Start by being honest with Scully," Doggett advised, his tone steady. "Tell her how you feel—your guilt, your fear, your anger. She needs to know you're not just shutting down. You both have a long road ahead, and communication is key."
Mulder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want to burden her with my feelings. She's been through enough."
"By not sharing, you might be shutting her out even more," Doggett pointed out gently. "She's going to want to help you, just like you want to help her. You're partners, Mulder. You can't carry this alone."
Mulder nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Doggett's words pressing down on him. "It's just… I don't know how she'll react. I don't know if she'll want to talk about it."
"Then let her set the pace," Doggett suggested, his voice calm and reassuring. "You're not in this alone, remember? You both have to navigate your feelings together. Just be there for her, and let her know you're ready to listen when she's ready to talk."
Mulder's gaze dropped to his hands, the tension in his shoulders still heavy as lead. "What if she can't forgive me? What if she sees me as the monster I feel like right now?"
Doggett's voice softened, understanding the depth of Mulder's fear. "It's going to take time, but you need to give her that chance. Don't underestimate the strength of your bond. It's been tested before, and you've always found a way through. Just be patient with each other."
"Patience," Mulder echoed, the word lingering in the air like a faint promise. "I guess that's all we can do, huh?"
"Yeah," Doggett replied. "And focus on the small victories. Each day you both get a little better, a little stronger. That's what matters."
As they continued driving, the rhythm of the city outside lulled Mulder into a moment of reflection. He took a deep breath, feeling the faintest flicker of resolve ignite within him. Doggett's words echoed in his mind, reminding him that he wasn't alone in this fight. They would face the challenges ahead together, one step at a time.
Reyes pulled up in front of Scully's apartment building, the familiar brick façade looming before them. As the car idled, Scully stared out the window, her expression distant and lost in thought. The weight of everything that had happened hung heavy on her, making the prospect of stepping out feel almost overwhelming.
"Hey," Reyes said gently, breaking the silence. "We don't have to be here. If you'd rather be somewhere else, just say the word. Any favorite hangouts?"
Scully remained quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed as memories flooded her mind. "My sister and I would sometimes meet up in Maritime Park," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We'd just stroll, sit on a bench, and look at the water. It was... peaceful."
Reyes looked at her, sensing the longing in Scully's voice. "Then let's do that," she said with a warm smile, turning the car back on and easing into the street. "A little fresh air and some time by the water sounds perfect."
As they drove toward the park, Scully felt a small sense of relief wash over her. The thought of being in a place that held happy memories was comforting, and she knew it was exactly what she needed right now. Reyes stole a glance at her, pleased to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at Scully's lips.
"Just the two of us," Reyes said, keeping her tone light and encouraging. "We can take our time, talk about anything—or nothing at all. Whatever you need."
Scully nodded, grateful for Reyes's understanding. The ride felt soothing, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement helping to ease some of the tension coiled in her chest. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine the calming presence of the water, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the soft laughter she once shared with her sister.
As they neared the park, Scully took a deep breath, feeling more at ease. She was ready to embrace the moment, to step outside the confines of her trauma and into the healing embrace of familiarity. With Reyes by her side, she felt less alone in the journey ahead.
Doggett pulled up in front of Mulder's apartment building, the familiar sight grounding him in the chaos of the day. Before he could even undo his seat belt, Mulder was already halfway out the door, moving with an urgency that made Doggett's instincts flare.
"Wait!" Doggett called, jogging after him. "I promised Monica and Agent Scully that I'd keep an eye on you."
Mulder paused just long enough to glance back at him, a stubborn determination etched on his face. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice clipped and weary.
Doggett's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "I don't believe you," he shot back, quickening his pace to catch up. "You won't even notice I'm there. But you shouldn't stay alone right now."
Mulder took a deep breath, the weight of Doggett's words sinking in. He knew that deep down, Doggett was right. The thought of being alone in the apartment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, filled him with a sense of dread. He turned back, eyes narrowing slightly as he fought against the vulnerability he felt creeping in.
"I just need some space," he said, but the edge in his voice lacked conviction.
Doggett stepped closer, his expression serious yet empathetic. "Mulder, it's okay to not be okay. You don't have to pretend with me. You need support right now, and I'm here to help."
Mulder closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the internal battle rage on. He longed for solitude, a sanctuary where he could process everything without the pressure of anyone else's presence. But that desire was also tinged with fear—the fear of what those thoughts would bring.
"Just for a little while," he finally conceded, opening his eyes to meet Doggett's steady gaze. "But I really don't want to talk about it."
"Fine by me," Doggett replied, a hint of relief washing over him. "I'll just hang out, watch some TV, maybe grab some food. Whatever you need."
With a resigned nod, Mulder stepped back from the door and allowed Doggett to follow him inside. He knew he couldn't face the darkness alone—not right now. As he crossed the threshold into his apartment, he felt a mix of gratitude and reluctance, recognizing that maybe having someone around wasn't such a bad idea after all.
As Reyes pulled into the Maritime Park parking lot, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the car, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Scully sat in silence, her arms crossed tightly, staring out the window as if searching for answers among the trees and water.
"This is going to take time," Reyes said softly, glancing over at Scully, who seemed lost in thought.
"What is?" Scully replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Your healing," Monica clarified, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.
Scully turned her gaze back to Reyes, a frown forming on her lips. "Vaginal tearing heals fairly fast," she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her tone.
"That's not what I meant," Reyes said gently, her voice soothing. "I'm talking about the emotional and psychological healing. The kind that takes a lot longer and often feels much harder."
Scully shifted in her seat, the weight of Reyes's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I don't even know where to begin," she admitted, her voice wavering as she blinked back tears.
Reyes nodded, understanding the struggle that lay before them. "It's okay to feel that way. You've been through something unimaginable. It's going to take time to process everything—the trauma, the pain, the betrayal. You don't have to rush it."
Scully looked down at her hands, the memories swirling in her mind like a storm. "I feel so lost," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. "I just want to go back to how things were before. I want to be okay again."
Monica reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Scully's knee. "You will be okay, Dana. It's just going to be a different kind of okay. You'll find a new normal, but it won't happen overnight. It's a journey, and it's okay to take it one step at a time."
The words hung in the air, and Scully appreciated the support, yet the road ahead felt daunting. "I wish I could just forget everything," she murmured, her gaze drifting out the window again.
"I know," Reyes replied softly. "But you don't have to forget to heal. Remembering is part of it, too. You'll find a way to integrate what happened into your life without letting it define you. You have the strength to do that."
Scully nodded slowly, though the knot in her stomach remained. "I just hope Mulder can forgive himself," she said quietly.
Monica's heart ached for both of them. "He will," she promised. "But he needs your help, too. You're a team, and you can lean on each other. That's what partners are for."
As they stepped out of the car, Scully's voice was a whisper, barely cutting through the soft sounds of nature surrounding them. "These people knew so much personal stuff about Mulder and me. There are things I didn't want him to know."
Reyes glanced over at Scully, her brow furrowing with concern. "What do you mean?"
Scully sighed, her gaze locked on the ground as they walked toward the water. "They used our vulnerabilities against us," she said, frustration lacing her voice. "They twisted our lives, our secrets, into weapons. It's like they were in our heads."
Reyes nodded, understanding the depth of Scully's discomfort. "That's part of the trauma," she replied gently. "The violation of privacy. It's not just the physical harm; it's the psychological damage, too. It's okay to feel angry about it."
"I just…" Scully hesitated, searching for the right words as they approached a bench overlooking the water. "I thought I could keep certain things separate. That Mulder didn't need to know everything about my past—my fears, my struggles. I wanted to protect him from that."
Monica's heart ached for her friend. "You didn't do anything wrong, Scully. You were trying to keep your relationship healthy, to create boundaries. It's normal to want to keep some things private."
"But now he knows," Scully replied, her voice trembling as she took a seat on the bench, her fingers tracing the edge of the wood. "And it feels like they've taken away my choice. They've stripped me of the ability to control what he sees of me."
"That's a huge violation," Reyes said, her tone serious as she settled beside Scully. "But you're still in control of your narrative. You can still choose how to talk about those things with Mulder. It doesn't have to be a one-sided revelation. You get to decide what he knows and how you want to share it."
Scully nodded slowly, the tightness in her chest easing just a little as she watched the water ripple. "I know. It's just… I'm scared. Scared of how he'll react, how this will change things between us."
"Change isn't necessarily a bad thing," Reyes encouraged, her eyes meeting Scully's with a sense of warmth. "You two have been through so much together. This is just another chapter in your story. It may even bring you closer if you allow it to."
"Maybe," Scully replied softly, still feeling uncertain. "But what if it drives a wedge between us?"
Monica reached over, giving Scully's knee a gentle squeeze. "You and Mulder have always been honest with each other, even when it's hard. Trust that. Open up to him when you're ready. He loves you, and he'll want to support you through this."
Scully took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill her lungs as the weight of Reyes's words settled in. "I hope you're right," she said, her voice steadier now. "I just want to find a way to heal, for both of us."
"You will," Reyes assured her, a comforting smile gracing her lips. "Just take it one day at a time, and don't hesitate to lean on Mulder. You're not alone in this, Dana."
As they sat together, the conversation lingered in the air, the waves crashing softly against the shore. The road ahead was still uncertain, but there was hope—an understanding that they could navigate this journey together, step by step, and maybe, just maybe, find their way back to each other again.
As Scully and Reyes strolled through the park, the fresh air and the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping against the shore began to ease some of the tension in Scully's shoulders. They eventually found a bench with a perfect view of the water, the sunlight glinting off its surface like a million tiny stars. Scully sat down, her gaze fixed on the horizon, feeling the weight of the world begin to lift just a little.
Just as Reyes started to say something, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly as she read Doggett's message: *"Mulder finally fell asleep on the couch. I'll make sure he has food at his place and called his friend Frohike to hang out when he wakes up."*
Reyes felt a sense of relief wash over her. *Good.* She quickly typed a reply: *"Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I'm out for a walk with Scully."*
Another message pinged in almost immediately: *"Glad to hear that. Just wanted to check in."*
Reyes looked up at Scully, who was watching her with an inquisitive expression. "John just texted," she said, a smile creeping onto her lips.
"What did he say?" Scully asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Mulder is asleep," Reyes replied, her voice lighter. "He's making sure he has food and called a friend in the name Frohike to keep him company when he wakes up."
Scully felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank goodness. It's hard knowing he's alone, especially after everything. But at least he has John and Frohike."
Reyes nodded, her expression softening. "And he has you, too. You're a team. Remember that."
Scully leaned back on the bench, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
Reyes shifted slightly to face her, resting her elbow on her knee. "Speaking of which, let's enjoy this moment a little more. We can sit here and watch the water for a bit. Clear our heads."
Scully chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness Reyes brought. "That sounds perfect."
As they settled into a comfortable silence, Scully allowed herself to be present, focusing on the gentle sounds of nature surrounding them. The worries of the world faded into the background, if only for a moment, leaving space for hope and healing.
As Scully and Reyes sat in companionable silence, watching the sunlight dance on the water, Scully's phone suddenly buzzed, breaking the peaceful moment. She glanced at the screen and saw John Byers' name lighting up.
"Excuse me for a moment," she said to Reyes, answering the call. "Hey, Byers."
"Uh, hey, Scully," Byers replied, his voice slightly hesitant. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"No, not at all. Just taking a walk with Reyes," she assured him, glancing at Monica, who smiled encouragingly.
There was a brief pause, and Scully could sense the weight of his thoughts. "I just wanted to check in on you," he said finally. "Frohike is on his way to Mulder. Langly and I are still here. Do you need one of us to come over?"
Scully hesitated, feeling the familiar pull of independence and the need for support. "Thank you, John, but I think I can manage alone," she replied, shyly smiling despite the heaviness in her heart.
Byers seemed to sense her uncertainty. "We are your friends, too, you know," he reminded her gently.
"I appreciate that," she said, her voice warm with gratitude. "It really means a lot to me."
"Just don't hesitate to call or stop by if you change your mind," he urged.
"I won't," Scully promised, feeling a small flicker of hope amidst her struggles. "Thank you for checking in, John. I'll keep you updated on how we're doing."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Scully hung up, turning her attention back to Reyes, who watched her with an understanding expression.
"Everything okay?" Reyes asked.
"Yeah," Scully replied, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "Just checking in with a mutual friend of Mulders and I. He wanted to make sure I'm doing alright."
Reyes nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It's nice to know you have that support. We all need to lean on each other during times like this."
Scully smiled faintly, appreciating the reminder. "You're right. It's comforting to know there are people who care."
With that, they settled back into the soothing sounds of the park, the shared understanding of their struggles lingering in the air, giving them both strength as they faced the journey ahead.