Mulder pressed his phone to his ear, his voice tense. "Danny, did you find an antidote?"
On the other end, Danny's voice came through, sounding equally strained. "Mulder, I ran a full analysis on that vial. Whatever they've been giving her is no standard sedative—it's a potent mix of mind-altering agents, probably meant to keep her subdued and compliant. But I did manage to isolate a few of the compounds. Based on that, I whipped up a counteragent that should help flush it out."
Mulder's grip on the phone tightened. "How soon can we get it?"
"I've already got a dose ready for her," Danny replied. "But be cautious—her body's been under a lot of stress from this stuff. I'd recommend slow treatment to avoid any side effects, and she'll need constant monitoring."
"Thanks, Danny. We're bringing her in now." Mulder ended the call and turned to Skinner, who was focused on the road. "We've got an antidote waiting for her. Danny thinks it'll help, but it's risky."
Skinner nodded, jaw set. "Right now, anything's better than leaving her in their hands."
Mulder glanced at Scully, slumped against the seat, her breathing shallow but steady. It was hard to see her like this—stripped of her strength, subjected to whatever horrific plan the facility had devised. But with Danny's help, he was certain they could bring her back.
"We're almost there, Scully," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.