Hours later, armed with forged IDs and transfer paperwork courtesy of the Gunmen, Mulder and Skinner strode into the dimly lit facility, making a beeline for the night nurse's station. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting long shadows on the sterile walls. Skinner held out the transfer forms, his expression unyielding.
"Ms. Scully is being transferred," he said, his tone leaving little room for negotiation.
The nurse glanced at the papers, frowning. "I'll need to check with her attending physician. I have no record of a transfer." She reached for the phone.
Skinner's jaw tightened as he waved the forms closer to her. "It's right here. Official. I don't think the doctor will have any objections." The nurse hesitated, eyeing the paperwork, but finally picked up the receiver to place the call.
Without missing a beat, Skinner motioned for Mulder, and they slipped down the hall, making their way swiftly to Scully's room. The walls seemed to close in, the hallway thick with the quiet hum of nighttime routines.
When they opened the door, Mulder's heart twisted. Scully lay sprawled on the bed, wrists restrained, her skin pale and bruised from the rough treatment. Her eyes were barely open, struggling to focus through the haze of sedation.
Skinner, momentarily frozen, murmured under his breath, "My God… what have they done to her?"
Mulder rushed to her side, releasing the restraints carefully, his hands gentle but urgent. Her eyes fluttered as she looked up at him, disoriented but slowly recognizing his face.
"Mulder?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but the relief in her eyes was unmistakable.
Her eyes flickered, and she mumbled something incoherent, her voice thick and slurred from whatever drugs they had pumped into her. She barely stirred as Mulder helped her sit up, but her head rested against his shoulder as he held her close.
Skinner took in the scene, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he saw the raw marks on her wrists and her exhausted face. "If we're going to keep up the pretense of a transfer, we need a gurney or a wheelchair," he said in a low voice. "She can barely stand."
Scully, struggling to sit, gave a small, determined nod. Mulder placed a steadying hand on her back, helping her swing her legs over the edge of the bed.
But Mulder saw her fragility, and without hesitation, he carefully lifted her into his arms, drawing her close. Skinner opened the door, keeping a watchful eye on the hallway, ready to lead them through.
"Skinner," Mulder said, glancing back, "we need to go, now."
Skinner's face was grim but resolute. He nodded. "You're right. But let's be ready—security will be on us as soon as they realize what's happening."
Without another word, Mulder hefted Scully over his shoulder, moving as quickly and smoothly as he could, with Skinner watching for any sign of pursuit. They exited the room and took a side corridor, hoping to avoid detection, but Mulder's gut told him they didn't have much time.
As they reached the end of the hall, they heard voices echoing behind them, the nurse's raised voice and hurried footsteps. Skinner glanced at Mulder, his voice low. "Hold steady. We're almost there."
Just as they turned into the stairwell, a security guard appeared at the far end of the hall, his eyes widening as he spotted them.
"Hey!" the guard shouted, raising an alarm. But Mulder didn't stop, pushing through the door and descending the stairs with Skinner close behind.
The shouts and footsteps grew louder, but finally, they burst out into the cold night air of the facility's parking lot. Skinner pointed to an unmarked van the Gunmen had left for their getaway. They loaded Scully inside, Mulder settling her carefully in the backseat as Skinner climbed into the driver's seat.
As they sped away, Mulder kept his hand on Scully's shoulder, watching her with a mixture of relief and worry as they left the facility far behind. "You're safe now, Scully," he whispered, even though he knew she couldn't fully hear him.