"Closet of Eternal Sorrow, Part Ten"

Two minutes into her sobbing session and Scully realized that aside from the throbbing pain in her knee and hand, she couldn't find a good excuse for her reactions and demeanor. She was beginning to feel extremely irritated with the crazy merry-go-round of emotions she was experiencing. One moment calm and controlled, the next total chaos. It was tiresome.

She recalled what Mulder had said to her about going to that board meeting and she wondered if her current misfortune was part of his bad omen prediction. She hoped this was all that was to it, since it was quite enough as it were.

She tried to get up from the ground, but the moment she attempted to use both her arms to push herself up, she let out an agonized yelp as her left wrist sent excruciating pain signals. She blurted a miserable "Fuck!" as she landed on her butt unceremoniously. This was proving a lot harder than she had conceived. She examined her wrist and noted it was beginning to resemble a misconstrued reddish puff pastry. It could be a number of things; a serious bruise, a very bad sprain, or it could be broken. She feared her last option was right on target as the now disfigured organ began to throb with vengeance and she wondered how she could have born it until now. She put the blame on her unstable behavior and a good bout of adrenaline. Both probably contributed to the original masking of the extent of her injury. Now that she seemed once again to be functioning normally, her adrenaline levels were probably tapering off and her injury chose to raise its ugly head.

She gave her knee a quick glance. It, too, was showing signs of wear and tear. Just brilliant. Her mental symptoms were having an amazing effect on her physical state and this only meant that whatever she was suffering from, was escalating. She hated to admit it, but Mulder was right to warn her as well as right about the fact that she should have at least come accompanied.

She sighed as she felt weariness taking over. She felt both mentally and physically drained. She needed to get her injuries treated, but in order to do that, she had to somehow get out of the tiny closet. Since she had barred the door, it was up to her to remedy that situation and for that she had no choice but to get off the floor, however brutal that ordeal was going to be.

She looked around her. The closet walls were overlaid with sets of metal racking stacked with supplies. She pushed herself backwards, with the assistance of her unaffected limbs, then twisted her body so she was half facing the metal shelving. She grabbed hold of one of the racking's posts with her healthy hand and hefted herself to a standing position as she pushed her body upwards with her uninjured leg. Trying to achieve this effort didn't come without a price as she kept making sudden movements with her aching hand and knee while she tried to keep her balance, but a few good curses later and she was standing in a fully erect position. As she tried to catch her breath, she realized how good it was that she had managed to keep such a slender figure. She wasn't sure those shelves would have supported her otherwise.

She limped slowly towards the closet door, trying her best to keep herself in a vertical stature. The distance was practically nothing, yet it took her more than ten mini-strides to reach it. Each step felt like agony as she was forced to lean on her bad leg. She winced in pain and felt moisture forming in the corners of her eyes. She barely caught her breath once she had reached her destination. Through gasps and pants, she yanked the broom from within the door handle. As she did so, she leaned heavily on the door for support and tried to keep her weight focused on her uninjured leg. Finally successful, she prepared herself for the movement required to move her back from the closet door so she could open it and escape her once-sanctuary-turned-prison-cell. She heaved a deep breath and gingerly put her stricken foot on the floor when she suddenly felt a sharp pain journeying through her chest. No! No! No! This wasn't happening! Not to her! Not Now!

The pain in her chest refused to subside. She tried to breathe in, but her lungs felt constricted, as if someone was putting tremendous pressure on them. She could feel her heartbeat rising as it tried to compensate for the lack of oxygen and gradually she sensed her body slide to the ground along the closet door. She would have screamed if only she could but she wasn't able to move any air in or out of her body. The only thought that remained in her oxygen-deprived brain was a death wish. She wanted the agony done with.

All of a sudden the intense pressure that fixated on her chest ceased. Scully let out a painful gasp then sucked in fresh air back into her lungs. Her head was pounding. So was her heart. She lay against the closet door, her body limp, devoid of energy, trying to come to terms with what had just occurred, yet failing miserably. Adrenaline still coursed through her blood stream, making the pain in her hand and knee seem as if it were a dull ache. With her able palm, she massaged her chest where a mere second or two ago, it had felt as if a boot had been standing, crushing her ribs to smithereens.

Her eyes scanned the tiny closet aimlessly until they landed on her deserted handbag lying on the floor where she'd dropped it when she'd first entered the room. She leaned slowly forward, and used her good hand to grab hold of it. Once it was safe in her lap, she dug into it and retrieved her cell. She'd switched it to silent when she had entered the meeting. Mulder had rung her several times while she was on the way to the hospital. She had chosen to ignore him because she didn't want his persistent nagging to interfere with her session with the board. She had forgotten to switch it off silent mode; well, she wondered if she'd subconsciously chosen not to do it, then she brushed that thought aside. She gulped with surprise as she looked at the phone's screen. Mulder, you crazy man! He'd rung her more than 100 times! She shook her head in disbelief, then terrible guilt settled in. "Damn."

She needed his help and she hated that fact but she was no fool. This was no time for silly games of pride. From the numerous texts he'd left her she knew he was probably already at the hospital. She'd call him, admit he was right and let him help her. Her mind now set, she flipped the phone open, but as she was about to press his speed dial number, a second bout of pain took control of her body. This pain was different. It felt as if there was a bear trap closing on her waist. The phone dropped from her hand and snapped shut as she let go of it and clutched her right side moaning in agony. She felt warm sticky fluid encapsulating her fingers. She didn't need to look at it to know it was blood oozing from a wound that had opened in her abdomen. She felt herself weakening as she continued losing blood. "Help," she called out in vain but her strength was almost gone and her cry was but a shadow of a whimper at best. There was slight chance of anybody even noticing anything from the other side of the closet door. Once again all she could do was scream in her mind, but this time she wished for a miracle. Mulder, help me, she called out to him, hoping that somehow he'd sense her, but to no avail.

The feeling as if several knives were stuck in her side continued and she wished for her consciousness to fade, yet for reasons unknown to her, she remained alert. She was able to feel each and every sharp invisible object being poked into her as it speared her internal organs. It was pure torture. There was no other word to describe what was happening to her. Why wouldn't it end? Why wouldn't her body succumb to it already and free her of this living nightmare?

Suddenly, as it had happened before, the excruciating pain ceased, leaving a gashing wound in her torso. At least her pain levels were a far cry from what they had been seconds ago. By now she had stopped hoping that she'd seen the end of it. So far, whenever she'd envisioned things couldn't get any worse, they somehow did. She had no idea what was in store for her next. Hurriedly, she fumbled for her phone, hoping she'd manage to call Mulder this time. She was finding it hard to flip the device open. Her hand was coated in bloody goo and trembles of shock were shooting through her body, making it almost impossible for her to control her movements.

She squinted hard, trying to concentrate on making her fingers obey. She'd just about gotten them to settle down when out of the blue she felt her body being propelled by an invisible force and she was hurled through the tiny closet as if she were a helpless rag doll. Her body's final destination was the metal shelving on the opposing closet wall. The loud explosion in her head was the last thing she heard and felt before blissfully surrendering to the darkness.

Mulder felt nauseous as he tucked the phone back in his pocket. The full extent of Miranda's plan had been revealed and he was now more determined than ever to put an end to it despite Skinner's numerous attempts to keep him from going overboard. There was just no way he could stand by and let this happen. Nobody in their right mind would.

Trying to appear casual, he followed one of the Pediatric Oncology patrons into the ward. The place seemed to be bustling with people. That was a good thing for Mulder who needed to somehow blend in with the crowd. He held himself back and strode lightly along the corridor, making sure to keep everybody's attention off of him. Finally he arrived at Brylee's room. He snuck a few hurried glances around him, double-checking nobody was watching. When he was certain the coast was clear, he opened the room's door as slowly as possible, making sure to make no sound as he entered then he gently shut it behind him.

The first thing he saw as he entered the room was the drawn bed-curtain. Odd, he thought to himself. The curtain was usually drawn for medical procedures or for activities requiring privacy. The eerie silence in the room told him that no such procedure or activity was currently taking place behind said curtain. His already piqued suspicion intensified. Had he a gun, it would have been drawn by now, but as it had been quite some time since he'd carried one, all he could do for now was clench his jaw and proceed with extreme caution.

He took a slow step, aiming for the far right corner of the room, when he thought he'd heard rustling sounds from behind the curtain. He stopped in his tracks, hoping whoever was with him in the room won't choose that very moment to show his or her face. After possibly thirty seconds when nothing happened, Mulder cautiously proceeded to the room's corner, got into a crouching position and waited for his opportunity.

He didn't have to wait long. Probably two to three minutes into his stakeout and he could hear hushed blubbering coming from behind the bed's curtain. He listened intently, trying to make out what was being said. It wasn't easy as the person who was talking was doing so in between choked sobs and snivels. It was Miranda, and she definitely didn't sound right.

"…baby…" Miranda cried and choked on her tears. "Please come back to me. Brylee, don't leave me…" she coughed loudly as tears clogged her throat. "I… I p…promise you to take care… " Miranda stifled another cough. "I will not let her get away with it. She… will suffer for what she did to you… to me… See, Brylee? See what I'm doing? It's for you, baby… for you…" She sobbed.

Mulder had heard enough. It was time to step behind that curtain and make his presence known, whatever the consequences. He stood up, took one step and pulled the curtain to the side. "Stop what you're doing!" he ordered Miranda.

Mrs. Sanders was totally taken off guard by Mulder's surprise intervention. Her first reaction was a frightened gasp and an alarming shriek. Then she quickly came to her senses and she screamed at the top of her voice, "GET OUT YOU BASTARD!"

Mulder had immediately noted Miranda's actions as he barged in on her unannounced. She'd been leaning on top of Brylee and in between her body and the body of her dead daughter she was squashing the form of the fourth 'Scully' doll. He ignored her screaming, got around the bed, put his arms around her waist and pulled her off of her daughter's body as she raved and kicked like the mad woman that she was. She didn't let go of the doll. She held it close to her chest and kept on compressing it with her fingers. Mulder let go of her and tried to grab the doll.

"Get away from me you crazy bastard!" Miranda cried out and took a step back. Her body collided with the bed and she lost her balance and fell to the ground.

Mulder lunged at her and got hold of the doll's legs, then he realized that if he pulled too much there was a good chance he might tear the thing apart and he had no idea what this might mean for Scully. Grudgingly, he let go.

Miranda was pulling back in an effort to prevent him from taking the doll. The moment Mulder let go, she fell back so hard, that Mulder couldn't ignore the loud thud her body made as it connected with the bed's metallic rungs. He thought that this was enough to put her down but he was wrong. She was now so enraged that she lost whatever was left of her meager attempt to appear sane. She gave Mulder a completely deranged stare and then she lifted the doll close to her face and sunk her teeth into its torso.

Mulder was beside himself. He opened his mouth to speak then thought the better of it. He plunged at the lunatic woman and put both his palms around her neck, trying to force the air out of her so she'd release the doll from the grip of her jaws. As he held her throat in between his hands, he shook her vigorously hoping she'd see the light before he went too far. To his horrific disappointment, not only did she not let go of the doll, she seemed even more determined to keep her teeth deeply submerged in it.

"Open your mouth!" Mulder cried.

Miranda had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. Instead she stared deeply into his eyes and Mulder could see that she was far beyond repent. She was so miserable that she seemed to wish Mulder would do her in. With the doll still stuck in her mouth, Mulder could see she was grinning. It was the grin of a mad woman. He realized she would rather die than let go of that doll. She couldn't care less. He loosened his grip and he couldn't ignore the expression of immense pleasure forming in her crazed eyes. It drove him overboard. Either she lived or Scully lived. The choice was clear for him. Sweat beads drifted off his forehead. His entire body was now trembling as adrenaline took it over. He clenched his teeth and hissed at Miranda, "You crazy witch!" then he dug his fingers with all his might into the woman's neck and blared, "I won't let her die, you hear me! I won't—"

His angry tirade was broken by the exploding sound of a door being thrust open with immense force. At that very fraction of a second, Miranda gave him her best unhinged glare and popped her mouth open. The red-haired doll plopped into her lap just as the bed curtain was yanked behind him. Mulder had been so anguished and taught, he was totally unprepared for the barrage that came upon him. He was literally caught red-handed. Despite scrambling to remove the evidence, i.e., his palms, from the death grip they bestowed upon Miranda's throat, it was pretty obvious his actions had not been lost on the uninvited guests.

"What the hell are you doing?!" A woman bellowed at the top of her voice.

He turned around and gave the furious nurse a squeamish grin. "Err… she… fell…"

"Don't give me that, mister! I happen to have 20/20 vision. I know what I saw." She wouldn't take any nonsense.

Mulder opened his mouth but Miranda beat him to it.

"He's crazy! He tried to kill me!" she squealed with deranged frenzy.

Mulder felt he was losing the battle. His only consolation was the fact that the doll was finally out of Miranda's insidious hands. He tried to snatch it before Miranda could get it back in her custody, but once again the maniacal mother got the upper hand. Before he could close his grip on the doll, she tore it away from him and threw it behind her. The miserable moppet went flying across the room, where it hit the bed curtain on the other side and skidded along it till it met the ground. Mulder wasn't happy that he hadn't managed to grab it before Miranda did, but at least it was currently out of her reach. Now, if only he could somehow prevent her from getting hold of it again.

He didn't have much time to wonder, though. The enraged nurse got hold of his arm and she was now pulling him upright. Mulder couldn't help but admire the strength the woman had in her arms. She got him back to a standing position in seconds flat. Now she was looking him right in the eye and Mulder winced. Her stern glare alone made him feel pretty darn small at that very moment. It almost competed with the mean stares Scully often gave him when he was about to do something foolish.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you hassling this poor woman?"

Mulder squirmed. "I… I…"

"Speak up and explain yourself or I'm calling the police!"

"You do that, Peg!" Miranda lashed from behind. "This goddamn man tried to murder me!"

"Calm down, Miranda. You mustn't upset yourself like this." The nurse called out to the lunatic mother.

"I'd do no such thing! Look at what he'd done to me! Look!"

Mulder wanted to look behind him to see what Miranda was now showing the nurse, but one quick glower from Peg and he kept his stance.

"Mister, you're in serious trouble." She turned to the second nurse in the room, "Go get security." The younger nurse nodded and left in a hurry. Peg turned around and faced Mulder, "and don't you try anything funny now. I think you should know that I am the proud owner of a black belt in Taekwondo and I am mighty fast, you catch my drift?"

Mulder definitely caught on. He smiled sheepishly and remained silent. The less he spoke, the less he incriminated himself. Alas, he had no idea how he'd get out of this mess and in the meanwhile Scully was still MIA and he hoped for dear God that he'd gotten to Miranda in time.

There was a loud commotion coming from behind the bedroom door and Mulder assumed it was the security entourage coming to take him away. The door was once against flung ajar and into the room came a familiar spectacled form with his voice booming as he entered. Skinner! Mulder almost smiled, then he caught the nurse's threatening scowl and he stopped himself mid-smirk.

At the sound of Skinner's roaring tone, the 'Karate-Nurse' frowned and turned around. "Who the hell are you?"

Skinner didn't waste time. He shoved his hand into his jacket and flashed his badge at the furious nurse. At that very moment Mulder would have given anything to have his badge back. It had saved him from trouble oodles of times. Then he had an afterthought; it had also gotten him in trouble thrice as much. He shook his head, brushing away the silly memory as he wondered if Skinner could release him from Nurse Ratched's 'friendly' embrace.

"FBI? Who called you? What's he gotta do with you?" Nurse Peg didn't seem to be the type who easily relinquished command.

Skinner flaunted his G-Man expression as he spoke. "That's classified, ma'am."

The nurse gave the A.D. an unimpressed harrumph. "Classified? What's all this fucking hogwash? This man entered my ward and assaulted a patient's parent and you're gonna let him get away with this load of bull for an explanation? Who're you kiddin' sir?!"

Skinner blinked.

Ah-ah, Mulder blanched. This wasn't looking too good. C'mon, Walter. You can do it, he cheered the A.D. in his mind.

"Well?!" the nurse demanded impatiently, then looked at the younger nurse who came in behind Skinner, "didn't I tell you to go get security?!"

The nurse gulped. "I'm sorry, Peg. He caught me on the way to get them, flashed his badge and I assumed he'd be just as good."

Peg sent the younger nurse a menacing stare and the miserable girl flinched with discomfort. "Go get'em!" Peg charged and then added for emphasis, "Now!"

Fuck! Mulder's crest fell as he saw his hope extinguished before his very eyes.

"Maybe this is just fucking crap to you, ma'am, but as far as I'm concerned this man is going with me, and should you have a damn problem with that, you can file a complaint with the bureau. Now unhand him and I'll take him to where we will continue with his interrogation."

Mulder's eyes brightened. Way to go Skinman!

The uber-nurse tried to stare Skinner down but it was proving mighty hard to do as she glared at the towering A.D. Finally she released her hold on Mulder's bicep. He almost let out a hefty sigh of relief. She'd begun to hinder the circulation to his limb with her vice grip. He shook his arms and kept his gaze directed at the ground. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of something red at the corner of his eye. He gazed sideways and noted it was the bedeviled 'Scully' doll. It remained on the floor where it had landed earlier. He sent Skinner a sideways peep hoping to somehow grab his attention. To his dismay, the A.D.'s mind was elsewhere. Mulder let out a subtle grunt and that had the desired effect. Skinner turned to face him and Mulder nodded gently with his head at the direction of the strewn doll.

Skinner sent him a 'don't you dare mess with me' glare, making sure Mulder behaved himself. Mulder sighed with grave disappointment and followed the A.D. out of the deceased child's room with his head bowed down.

"Skinner," Mulder whispered rather loudly as Brylee's bedroom door shut behind them.

"Not now!" the A.D. commanded.

Mulder rolled his eyes and followed Skinner as he trudged along the busy ward's corridor. He'd been saved by the bell but he was far from rejoicing. Miranda Sanders was practically still at large and her instrument of torture was at her arm's reach. All she had to do was to get rid of the gathered crowd in her daughter's room and she could resume her atrocious acts against Scully. Now that his cover of anonymity had been lifted, he had a fat chance of returning to the scene of the crime and preventing Miranda from killing Scully. If she hadn't done so already, he added as a terrible afterthought.

They crossed into the second floor hallway and soon after he found himself following Skinner into the men's room. Skinner quickly made sure all the stalls were vacant and then finally spoke. "If not for Scully, Mulder, I think I would have let you hang by that fine rope you so gracefully extended yourself."

Mulder opened his mouth in protest but Skinner wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"I don't know why you keep behaving like this disobedient teenager and why I am once again finding myself playing your father's role, bailing you out of these impossible situations! Do you know what's at stake for me here, Mulder? Do you ever stop to think whose livelihood you put at risk when you barge into people's lives as if you owned them? Do you?"

Mulder was peeved. "Nobody asked you to come and bail me out! You're not the boss of me anymore!"

"Oh, cut the crap!" Skinner spat. "If you didn't want me involved, you shouldn't have called me in the first place! You know I would never let you rot in there, no more than Scully would have." He sighed. "It's just…" Skinner scratched his head, "It's like you are totally blind to anything else when you get into these situations. I can't let you ruin yourself even if you don't give a shit about what happens to you…"

Mulder suddenly felt deflated. Of course he had no intention of fucking things up for Skinner. It wasn't Skinner he had in mind when he jumped Miranda Sanders. "I can't find her, Walter. I'm afraid that if I don't find her soon and if we don't find a way to stop Miranda, then…" he trailed off as tears came rushing from the corners of his eyes and bubbling up his throat. He grabbed his face in between his hands, feeling defeated and hopeless.

"C'mon," Skinner said.

"What?" Mulder asked hoarsely as he rubbed the moisture from his eyes.

"Let's go find her."

"How? I've been trying to call her for three hours now and she's not answering."

"I'll make a call and ask the tech department to triangulate her phone signal."

"And what if it's off?" Mulder asked as they both exited the men's room and began walking down the hallway.

"What if it's on? We can at least try." Skinner said as he dug his cell out of his jacket pocket.

"And anyway," Mulder continued, "I'm almost certain she's still at the hospital, and if that's the case, then I doubt triangulation would do us any good. There's just so much they can pinpoint."

"I'll call in a favor. Get my men to help canvas the place." Skinner stopped in his tracks and looked Mulder in the eye. "We'll find her. We always do, OK?"

Mulder felt awkward yet grateful. He nodded assent, then let his gaze drop to the ground feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Skinner will indeed try his utmost for Scully, Mulder had no doubt about that and he did appreciate it, yet he wondered if by the time help came their way, if it wouldn't be too late for Scully. Just then he noticed a tiny shimmer at the corner of his eye. He squinted. What the… He directed his gaze towards the glistening object and his eyes widened with awe. He darted in its direction.

"Mulder?" a baffled Skinner called from behind him. "What are you doing?"

By then Mulder was already on all fours, staring with disbelief at the petite shiny object he'd just collected from the ground. It was Scully's cross necklace. He picked it by its chain and showed Skinner his miracle finding. "She's here," he managed to blurt out as his heart began to beat profoundly. He got up and looked around him. There was a green door just next to where he'd found the golden cross. With new found hope in his heart, he pushed the door's handle down. It gave way and opened and there she was, sprawled on the closet floor, her body and her face both contorted. Mulder gasped at the sight of her disastrous state. He looked back at Skinner who registered the horror in his eyes, nodded, turned around and dashed like crazy back towards the Pediatric Oncology ward.

Mulder rushed to Scully's side as he yelled for help at the top of his voice.

Miranda watched with anticipated glee as finally the door shut behind Nurse Peg and her liaison. "Phew," she let out with exhilarated relief, "I'd thought they'd never leave."

Over time, as Brylee got sicker, she'd begun talking out loud to herself. Sometimes she'd address Brylee in her lonely monologues, sometimes she'd talk about herself in the third person and sometimes she'd just plain talk directly to herself.

"Miranda, do you want a cup of tea? Miranda, can I take your pulse? Miranda, can I bla bla bla!" she mockingly mimicked the worried words of the nurses who'd just left her room. "I said I wanted nothing you idiot twerps!" she seethed. "All I want is to be left alone with my Brylee, you dickheads!" she spat bitterly and then broke down in tears and collapsed to the ground.

She wailed aloud in cracked sobs, her heart feeling as if it were in shreds. "What am I going to do now?" she cried out in misery. "What am I going to do now without my baby?" she bawled.

She remained on the bedroom floor for a while crying her heart out and feeling sorry for herself. Eventually her tears dried up and the sadness in her heart was pushed aside as her anger returned at full thrusters. She got up and searched behind her daughter's bed for the 'Scully' doll she tossed earlier.

"If Brylee has to die, so should Dr. Scully!" she said as she stared at the doll's button eyes. "I will be doing this hospital a favor. They would have to thank me later for preventing any further damage," she added smugly.

With the doll still in her hand she padded towards the medical supply trolley that had been left in Brylee's room after her resuscitation attempts. She placed the doll on top, pulled the first drawer open and quickly skimmed its contents as she rummaged through it. Unable to find the instrument she was looking for, she forcefully shut the drawer and using equal force she tugged hard at the second drawer. She repeated her frenzied search till she reached the fifth drawer where she let out a triumphant cry. "Yes!" she uttered as she picked up a pair of stitch removal scissors. "These would be perfect."

She shuffled back to her daughter's bedside with the 'Scully' moppet secured under her arm; she leaned close to the dead child's face and whispered in her ear, "I love you honey." She laid the homemade doll on top of her daughter's body and hefted the scissors as if they were a makeshift dagger, pointing towards the doll's abdomen. She let out a deafening cry and plunged the sharp instrument at the doll with all her might, focusing all her rage at it, but just as she was about to make contact she took in her daughter's peaceful expression and she suddenly felt limp. Her palms parted and the scissors hit the doll's midsection and tore through it but with far less force than she had originally intended.

"NO!" Miranda cried out in anger. "It's me who should be with my daughter! Not that bitch doctor!" She threw her stuffed creation behind her as rage took over, then she grabbed the scissors and thrust them with tremendous pressure into her neck. As blood began to spew from her wound and from her mouth she managed to gurgle "I'm umming baby…" Then she staggered backwards and plopped onto the chair, a serene smile plastered to her face.

Skinner pressed the Pediatric Oncology buzzer frantically. "C'mon," he prodded with anguish. Trust blasted Murphy to make sure there was no one nearby with access to the ward when he needed it the most. Now he had to rely on the availability of the nurses or the clerk at the front desk and it seemed to him as if they had all chosen this very moment to take their lunch break. Of course he knew deep down that it was just his heightened stress that made it feel as if nobody was currently available, but somehow this logic didn't seem to help his stress levels one bit.

Finally a nasally voice dilly-dallied out of the intercom. "Yes?"

Skinner held down the intercom's button and responded, "My name is Walter Skinner. I'm with the FBI. It is imperative that you let me in immediately!"

"Are you a relative?" the nasally voice continued as if Skinner hadn't spoken a word.

Skinner blinked. What is it with this place? "Ma'am, open the door, Now!" he ordered.

"Can you hold, please." the disembodied voice told Skinner.

Skinner clenched his jaw in anger and shook his head in disbelief. He was tempted to draw his gun and shoot his way in but instead he waited another thirty seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Finally the intercom crackled back to life.

"I'm sorry that you had to wait, sir. Can you please repeat your name and state your business with this ward?"

Skinner heaved a deep breath and chanted a relaxation mantra in his mind. "My name is Walter Skinner. I'm an FBI Assistant Director. I have an urgent matter to handle in your ward. I'd appreciate being let in."

"FBI? Sure. Why didn't you say so sooner?" the voice wondered aloud.

Skinner rolled his eyes, then heaved a sigh of relief as the electric doors parted. "Thanks," he blurted to the intercom lady and hurried inward.

As he rushed through the ward's corridor, he was certain he'd managed to get through all the obstacles in his way. He'd been totally off target, though. He was nearing the ward's front desk when a familiar, relatively wide structured nurse appeared before him. He'd almost collided into the nurse barricade. She put her hand up and signaled him to stop.

You are not serious, he thought as he glared impatiently at the charge nurse. "Excuse me."

Peg gave him a stern look-over. "Where's the guy?" she queried.

Skinner was befuddled. "Who?"

"The guy you took custody of?" she answered with a question and raised her eyebrow at him, half frowning.

Fuck! Skinner resisted the urge to wince. "I… handed him over to one of my men."

Nurse Peg gave him a look that said she had zero belief in what he had just said. "Sure…"

Skinner was fed up with the nurse and her irritating attitude. "Look, I think I might have forgotten something in that patient's room. I have to find it before it's too late."

The nurse gave him a sideways look. "Hmmm…"

Skinner tried to stare her down again, but the nurse wasn't buying it this time.

"It'll just be a couple of minute and I'll be out of your hair."

She snorted. Skinner had just about made up his mind to shove her aside and push forward when he heard rushing footsteps approaching. He turned around and saw a nurse heading towards them.

"Peg!" the approaching nurse called out. "Somebody attacked one of the doctors outside. I think it's somebody from our ward. I wasn't able to get a good look, too many people working on her."

Skinner turned to face Peg. The nurse's angry scowl turned into a worried frown and Skinner finally saw her gentler side. The other thing he saw was his break. Amazingly, Scully was in essence saving herself, he mused.

Skinner looked at Peg and gave her his best 'give me a break' expression. She heaved a deep sigh as a response.

"Jen," she called out to the nurse who, unbeknownst to her, had been giving her the heads up regarding Scully's misfortune, "This is …?" she gave Skinner a querying glance.

"Walter Skinner," he answered her question.

She nodded and continued. "He's from the FBI. He thinks he might've forgotten something in Brylee's room. Can you escort him and help him out?"

"Where're you going?" Nurse Jen pried.

"To see if they might need help outside," she yelled behind her back as she hurried down the corridor.

Jen snorted. "To see if they need help. Yeah, right," she muttered sarcastically. "More like to butt yourself into something that isn't your Goddamn business, I'd say."

Skinner smirked sheepishly at the nurse's remark.

The nurse harrumphed. "Come on. Let's get this over with.

He knew the way but he obediently followed the dejected nurse as she slowly trudged along the hallway, emitting lethargic sighs all through the way which Skinner deduced were related to the fact that she got the boring job of babysitting the FBI Assistant Director and not the exciting trauma outside.

He was debating whether he should convince her that she was off the hook. It would serve both their interests after all but by then they'd already reached room 202 and Skinner was startled out of his reverie by the nurse's surprised cry.

"JESUS!"

The nurse's shocked reaction sent shivers along Skinner's spine. Something seemed to be terribly wrong. The nurse had yet to open the door to Brylee's room but she'd obviously seen something as she peered through the circular window in the room's door. Skinner huddled behind her and snuck a peek. The bed curtain was drawn around the deceased child's bed but there was a gap of about fifteen or so inches above ground and it revealed a pair of bare legs that seemed to have blood trickling along them. The fabric sneakers worn by the bleeding person were now completely crimson colored and they stood within a small pool of blood.

Skinner looked at the wide-eyed nurse and calmly asked her to go and get help. The nurse nodded and hurried back to the front desk. Skinner flung the door open, pulled the bed curtain aside and took in the horror show.

Mulder trotted behind the fast moving gurney. He could hardly make out Scully's form through the vast number of medical professionals escorting her. They kept asking him what had happened and he kept coming up with no rhyme or reason. They all agreed she was attacked and by the sneaking glances they kept directing at him, he suspected he was the person they were putting the blame on. The only thing saving him from being arrested there on the spot was the fact that Scully's condition was so dire they had no time to deal with anything else.

She was unconscious and thus could not redeem him but he couldn't care less. At least he found her and she was still alive, albeit, barely. She was holding her own despite her breathing being extremely labored. There was blood oozing from a wound on her abdomen and they suspected she had a number of crushed ribs, a bad wrist fracture and probably an additional number of internal injuries. They were now towing her to radiology to have her scanned for further assessment and he was tagging along, making sure she was constantly at his sight.

For now it seemed that Miranda had quit her sorcery but he suspected that was only temporary. He was counting on Skinner. He had to get to Brylee's room in time to stop Miranda for good.

"Oh my God!"

Mulder's ears perked at the sound of the familiar female voice. He took his eyes off of Scully's gurney and searched for the source of the voice. Oh crap! It was Nurse Peg of all people.

"Oh my… God! It's… It's Dr. Scully! What the hell happened to her?!" Peg rambled on. "Was she attacked?"

"We don't know," one of Scully's accompanying doctors answered her.

Mulder bowed his head, but his tall stature made him stick out amidst the crowd and sure enough his nemesis nurse caught sight of him. He made no attempt to escape. There was no way he was leaving Scully.

"YOU!" the nurse barked at him.

He could hear her approaching. There was no point to the continued aversion of his eyes. He raised his head and stared into the nurse's blazing blues as she stepped in front of him.

"Hello again," he said meekly.

"Did you do this to her?!" she asked bluntly.

She sure didn't beat about the bushes, he thought. "No. I found her this way. I'm the one who called for help."

"How convenient," she aired sardonically. "First you beat them up, then you play the hero who saves them. I've been around long enough to smell your type for miles!"

"Well, you better get that sense of smell of yours checked," he retorted. He saw no point in trying to appease her. She'd already made up her mind about him.

The peeved nurse was slightly surprised. She hadn't expected the daring tone Mulder was taking with her. Mulder assumed she was used to people cowering before her. He could sniff out a good tyrant any day of the month. "You're in my way," he told her and tried to push through, but the nurse put a muscled grip on his arm, stopping him in his path.

"Let go!" he glared at her.

"I don't think so. You've done enough damage for one day. I will personally make sure you are handed over to security."

Mulder had lost his calm demeanor. There was no way this bitch of a nurse was going to come between him and Scully. "Look now, sister, my name is Fox Mulder and I am Dr. Scully's partner in life. I need to be with her right now."

The ferocious nurse gave him a pitiful sneer. "Her life partner? Seriously? You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth."

She laughed in his face. "You seem to think I'm some gullible fool that you can play around with. Well tough! Peg Donahue is no doofus. I've been working with Dr. Scully for two years now. Never did she once mention ever living with someone."

"I guess she ain't the sharing kind," Mulder countered. Trust Scully to keep his mention tucked away behind those serious blue eyes of hers, far from prying people's reach. He knew she was only protecting him, but today of all days it would have been nice if she'd communicated his existence to somebody in this God forsaken hospital.

The ruthless nurse didn't seem to enjoy Mulder's antics. She secured her wrap around his arm and began manhandling him towards the nearby elevator. "C'mon, buster!"

Mulder heaved a deep breath and grabbed hold of her arm and tried to pry her hand from his bicep. The nurse hadn't been kidding about her training. She easily resisted Mulder's attempt but Mulder was no first-timer as far as fist-fights were concerned and he managed to land a mean punch to her right cheek. The nurse came back from his stroke a lot more furious than before. Her nostrils flared as she raised her arm in a menacing motion. Mulder braced himself for the incoming blow, as he once again tried to get the masculine nurse's hand off.

All of a sudden he heard the sound of rushing footsteps and somebody was shouting from further down the hallway. "Excuse me!"

With her arm still trained on Mulder, Nurse Peg turned to face whoever was getting in her way. "WHAT?!" she roared.

Mulder looked behind her and noticed it was one of the doctors who'd been treating Scully. He seemed rather puny in comparison to Nurse Peg, and he seemed somewhat taken aback when he took note of the situation he'd butted into.

"Well?" Peg said impatiently, "What is it?"

The doctor looked uneasily first at Peg, then at Mulder. "Are you… Mulder?"

Peg stared down at the apprehensive looking doctor. "What's it to you?!"

Mulder half snorted. She had the gracefulness of an elephant in a china shop. He'd definitely have to get Scully to spill the beans about her once she got better, he mused.

"What's so funny jerk?!" Peg rumbled.

Mulder just smirked and remained silent.

"So? Are you him?" The doctor repeated the question.

Mulder raised his eyebrows at Peg,

"OK, OK, answer him already!" she fretted.

"I'm Mulder."

"Sir, she's asking for you."

"WHAT?!" Peg and Mulder blurted in unison.

Realization dawn on him and his heart exploded as if it were a volcano erupting. "She's awake? Scully's awake?"

"Yes," the edgy doctor replied. "Would you mind following me, please?" he turned around and started walking away.

Mulder delivered Peg an 'I told you so' smirk and then he pointed his gaze towards the nurse's hand that was still entwined around his arm.

"Fine! Go!" she seethed and released him from her clutch.

Mulder wasted no time and scooted hurriedly in the direction the doctor had taken.

He reached Scully just as the elevator doors were about to close on her gurney and surrounding medical party.

"Mind if I butt in?" he mumbled as he nimbly snuck between the shutting doors.

"Mulder?" Scully's faint voice asked from behind the wall of doctors and nurses. "Is that you?"

One of the doctors barely found room to move aside so that Mulder could fit in. "It's me," he said and offered her a gummy beam. She still looked as if she were on death's door. Her body was covered with blood, her wrist was swollen and so was her knee and now there was an impressive bunch of tubes and contraptions added to the mix, but her blue eyes were wide open and alert and that was all that mattered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered through the oxygen mask.

He leaned closer. "For what?"

"For ditching you."

He chuckled. "I guess payback's a bitch."

Her lips stretched into a smile behind the rubbery mask.

Mulder's heart was doing a silly song and dance at the sight.

To his dismay, her smile tapered off. "What's wrong?" his heart was sinking fast at the sight of her concern.

"I wish I knew," she rasped. "If I didn't know any better I'd think this was…"

"… an X-File?" he finished her sentence.

She gave him a brittle smile.

Mulder could sense her reserve. "It doesn't matter what all of this is," he tried to sway her from the subject. "The bottom line is that it's being taken care off." Mulder hoped that he was right about that assumption.

As if to disprove his point, Scully let out a painful gasp and her face contorted.

Mulder noted her pallor and felt goosebumps exploding all over his body. FUCK!

The doctor who'd made room for Mulder previously, shoved him aside as the medical staff fretted and started tossing medical jargon back and forth, whilst they tried to figure out what was happening to Scully.

"She's bleeding!" one of them, Mulder thought he was a nurse, called out.

"What?!" Mulder shot out and tried to peer over the medical professionals' heads.

"This is weird." Another nurse chimed in.

Weird. Mulder raised his eyebrow. That was up his alley. He took note at the new center of attention on Scully's body. A freshly created blood stain was now rapidly spreading around the central part of her abdomen.

The medical team got busy tearing whatever remained of Scully's clothes so they could get all her wounds properly exposed. Mulder winced at the sight of what was no other than a straight forward stab wound. The medical staff was baffled.

"Is this a pre-existing wound?" A doctor wondered aloud.

"No way!" another doctor retorted. "A wound like this? There's no chance we'd have missed it."

"But…" A confounded nurse blurted.

"Do you want to tell me this wound just occurred now before our very eyes?" A female doctor interjected.

The second doctor shrugged in response.

The female doctor huffed. "This is crazy!"

Mulder stared at Scully's face. Her eyes were barely open but she was still conscious. Welcome to our world, doctors, Mulder told them in his mind.

"Mulder, what's happening to me?" Scully croaked.

What was he supposed to tell her? Did it really matter why all of this was happening? He looked at her agonized expression and felt as if Miranda had stabbed him in the abdomen. Where the hell was Skinner? Why wasn't he stopping that mad woman from killing Scully?

The lift doors parted. They were at the basement floor. Mulder rushed behind Scully's gurney as the medical team sped through the corridor. He was reaching for his cell when all of a sudden the medical parade came to an abrupt halt and the entire team burst out in shouts and high-pitched hysterical sounding clamors.

Mulder feared the worst as he scrambled to reach them. His call to Skinner was put on the back burner.

"Keep her down!" Mulder heard somebody shouting.

"I'm trying!" another responded. "It's like she's super-strong!"

Mulder was confused. Were they talking about Scully? i.e. the love of his life who was practically a withered leaf just mere seconds ago?

"Get on top of her!" somebody yelled.

Mulder reached center stage and caught a crazy sight; Scully's body seemed to be partially hovering in midair while a bunch of frantic medics were gripping her limbs and trying to somehow pull her back onto the gurney. One of the nurses climbed on top of the gurney and was now clambering on top of Scully in an effort to pin her down. As the nurse got on top of her, it seemed she was now hovering in the air together with a full grown man toppled on her.

He'd seen many a strange things and beings and yet he was still enchanted by this show of paranormal activity. It made him stop in his tracks and stare with awe. Then he mentally slapped himself for his momentary lapse. After all, this was Scully's body under this unusual trance. At least he believed it to be a trance. Then another thought materialized in his mind; what if this was what happened to Scully if her doppelganger doll was tossed into the air? This meant that—

He wasn't able to finish his trail of thought as his notion was realized. Without any warning, Scully's body came crashing down like fallen timber back onto the gurney. The male nurse who'd been stranded on top of her fell to the ground, and as he did so he toppled a doctor and two nurses as if they were bowling pins in a bowling alley. Some of the medical staff members found their hands trapped underneath Scully's body and the rest just stood their completely dumbstruck, too shaken to utter a single word.

Mulder rushed over to check on Scully. Instinctively he grabbed her hand and she gasped in pain. Taken by surprise he immediately released his hold. She was conscious?! After all of this?! Sheesh! He shook his head in disbelief.

"M… Mul… d… der…" Scully aired faintly.

"Shshsh… Scully, don't try to speak," he told her as he absentmindedly created grooves through her auburn tresses with his fingertips.

"Wha… hap… penned…?" She ignored him.

He sighed. "You took into the air like a magic carpet."

"N… Nice…" she gave him a weak smile, then abruptly her expression twitched.

Mulder took in her tormented features and his gut twisted in response. NO! He thought that her suffering was finally over. Skinner should have already been by Miranda's room and taken that cursed doll out of her hands.

He looked at Scully. Her complexion had turned into the shade of wax. Her beautiful rosy lips were draining of color as he watched, sickened. He felt somebody make contact with his body and he found himself being pushed to the side, his fingers tearing from Scully's hair and pulling unruly strands that got tangled. He staggered, watching as if through a murky glass window as medical staff converged onto Scully, almost wrestling one another as they tried desperately to save her life.

Was this it? After all they had gone through, Scully would find her demise when they were far away from their crusade for the truth? Just when they were finally finding their way back to one another? He almost laughed at the irony.

He tasted iron. He hadn't realized he'd been biting his lower lip as he agonized over the suffering Scully was enduring before his very eyes. He zigzagged further back as he felt weakness taking him over. His back met with the wall, his legs gave way and he sagged to the ground. He grabbed his face between his hands, feeling Scully's torn strands of hair now sticking to his teary cheeks. The notion of how unfair the whole situation was annoyed him and he mentally slapped himself for even letting his thoughts travel in that direction while Scully was hanging between life and death.

He conjured her faint smile, just seconds before her expression erupted in pain. Was this the final smile she would ever wear on her lips?

With uncharacteristic detachment he followed the hysteria the medical professionals were airing, almost as if he were watching a dramatic scene from a medical soap opera. The nurses were rushing around the doctors, tossing equipment to and thro. They were supposed to be moving in a rapid fashion befitting such an occasion but to Mulder they seemed to be like snails in a race rushing behind Scully's body as it refused to slow down its persistent misbehavior. Whatever they threw at it, they always came second best.

The various monitors were screeching in protest and something snapped within him, cracking his façade of apathy. He put his hands to his ears and shut his eyes tight, refusing to bear witness to what was happening.

A strange tingling in his side made him start and his eyelids flew wide open. His hand darted to his waist as his fuzzed-up brain fathomed what the source of the odd vibration was. With his eyes trained back on the drama eventuating before him, he half-heartedly retrieved his pulsating cellphone from his pocket. He didn't have to search the screen for the caller. Aside from Scully there was only one other person who had his number. Anger registered in his mind when he thought about him. Then he took his accusation back and aimed it at himself. His feelings of guilt over not being able to prevent this disaster made his soul ache. With trembling fingers he clicked the green cellphone button, then he put the device by his ear and listened, not sure he could trust his voice to carry anything of sense.

"Is Scully alright?" Skinner's contrastingly calm voice flowed out of the phone.

"No," Mulder choked out.

"She's not alright?" the A.D.'s tone was filled with surprised confusion. "But…"

"She's dying and it's my fault." Mulder muttered with dejection.

"Mulder? What the hell are you talking about?"

Skinner's bewilderment was grating on his nerves. "What don't you understand, sir? She's DYING!"

"Mulder, Miranda is dead."

Fox Mulder thought he was imagining Skinner's words. "She's dead?"

"Yes," Skinner confirmed. "She stabbed herself with a pair of scissors. They're still working on her but—"

"The doll?!" Mulder barked with extreme urgency. "Where's the doll?!"

"Mulder? Didn't you hear what I just told you? Mrs. Sanders is dead!"

"Find that fucking doll, Skinner!" Mulder yelled, sounding like a madman. "NOW!"

Skinner removed the cell from his ear. Mulder kept on raving like a lunatic and he felt his eardrum was about to pop. He was at a loss. Everything seemed clear as daylight just a few seconds ago, albeit the bizarre circumstances. Miranda was set out to get Scully. She was using some magical doll that somehow had an effect on her, so if Miranda was out of the picture, everything should have been resolved, right? Wrong! Miranda had left one red-headed legacy behind and this… thing… was still out there.

Skinner stood at the room's corner, trying his best to keep out of the medical staff's way as they hovered over Miranda's damaged body. Their attempts were futile. The woman had stabbed herself in the carotid artery and she lost blood volume quickly. By the time Skinner and Nurse Jen found her, there wasn't much anyone could do, and yet the medical team tried whatever heroic measures they could. It was a gruesome scene to watch.

He was hoping to hear some good news when he rang Mulder but when he heard his former agent's voice it felt like a kick in his gut.

If only he could find that doll. But the medical staff had yet to clear the room and he wasn't sure they'd appreciate him snooping around. He heaved a heavy sigh, feeling dread encroaching. Mulder and Scully had gone to great lengths in the past to help him in his times of need. He should at least try something. The hell with appearances!

Like a stealthy cat, Skinner quietly crouched close to the ground. His trained eyes began a meticulous scan of the room. He divided it into four sections and each section was then also divided into four. Everything in his direct vision was given a notation within his mind. Items that could conceal the doll would be reviewed once he'd finished his initial scan. It should have been a somewhat time lengthy process but his experience gave him the edge he needed to be able to perform a thorough scrutiny of the premises in a very short amount of time.

The doctors and nurses were still focusing on Miranda and nobody was paying attention to the strange misdemeanors of a certain FBI agent present in the room. Skinner calmly rose back to his full height and casually traversed the room until he reached the wheeled bed stand beside Brylee's bed. With gradual movements he inched the stand's top drawer open, all the while glancing at the medical team, making sure their attention was aimed elsewhere. Once the drawer had been half opened, Skinner sunk his hand into it, and with his eyes still trained on the medical personal, he let his fingers do the walking. His digits felt around the rectangular container in search of the doll's tell-tale cloth or its woolen hair. Seconds later and it was clear the doll wasn't there.

The next item on the menu was the stand's cabinet. This required lowering himself down to the cabinet's level which was somewhat more complicated. He had to devise a way to crouch beside the stand's locker without grabbing anybody's attention, but just as he was contemplating this next move, he heard a muffled high pitched cry. Not only was he shocked by the unexpected sound, so was one of the nurse's standing nearby.

The nurse turned to face Skinner wearing a dumbfounded frown on his face. "What was that?"

"What?" Skinner blurted also trying to figure out the source of the shrill cry he'd also just heard.

Then the high pitched wail sounded again and Skinner suddenly realized its origin. "I'm sorry. I think it's my phone. I must've forgotten to disconnect it." As he apologized, he held the device back to his ear. "Mulder? What's happening?"

"You have it?!" Mulder hoarse voice blared in his ear. "Please tell me you found it because she doesn't have much time…"

Skinner shook his head, feeling like a failure. He swallowed hard, trying to form some sort of a reply but he couldn't bring himself to admit to Mulder that he'd reached the end of his tether. That Scully's luck had run out.

"ANSWER ME!" Mulder raged on.

"I'm still searching," he responded wanly.

"That's not good enough!" Mulder yelled.

"I know." There was no point in arguing with a desperate man. Mulder wouldn't accept any excuses and for good reason.

On the other side of the line Skinner could hear Mulder's voice cracking as he desperately begged Scully to hold on. He rubbed his face, almost squashing his cheek in fierce anger at his inability to find the source of Scully's suffering. It had to still be in the room. It was just not in clear sight, that's all. "Just a second," Skinner told Mulder.

Giving up on stealth, Skinner began searching the room as if he were a police officer hunting for drugs. Aggressively opening cabinets; searching under Brylee's bed covers and behind her pillows, going through Miranda's belongings and so forth.

"Hey!" One of the nurses yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

Skinner ignored her. It didn't really matter what he'd say to her. She wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Hey! Stop!" The male nurse roared.

Skinner continued his frenzied rummage, discounting the outcries of the furious medical company. Then somebody grabbed hold of his arm and tried to pull him back. Skinner easily released himself from the person's grip then pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it at the converging crowd of unhappy medical staff. "I suggest you don't come any closer." He warned quietly.

The outbursts hushed down immediately. Nobody argued. Skinner kept the gun trained on the medical staff and continued his inquest for the missing doll but after a few more minutes all he had was a room filled with upheaval, a bunch of scared doctors and nurses and two dead bodies. The doll was nowhere to be found.

"For Christ Sake!" he spat out. He'd searched every nook and cranny and the damned moppet had disappeared, as if into thin air. Could somebody have taken the doll out of the room? It was plausible. He was about to ask the medical team if they'd seen somebody carrying out a doll with red hair when his eyes caught sight of Miranda's mutilated form and something clicked.

He waved his gun with fierce determination at the medical staff. "Move that body off that chair."

The medics stared at him with eyes filled with shock, terror and confusion, unsure what to do next.

"Now!" Skinner prodded, pushing his point as he brandished his gun angrily.

The group jumped into action, each grabbing hold of Miranda's crimson clad body. "W… where d… do you w…want us to p…put her?" One of the doctors mumbled as the team hefted the dead woman and slowly moved in Skinner's direction.

"I don't care," Skinner uttered icily. "Just get her off that chair."

The parade approached Skinner's location and he moved forward and switched positions with them. He stared at the blood sodden chair. There, before his very eyes, lay the missing doll, her cloth-covered body drenched in the blood of her creator and her blue button eyes gawking at him, almost as if the doll understood that her journey had come to an end.

Skinner holstered his gun and brought the cell phone back to his ear. "Mulder?"

"I know," his former agent-turned-friend told him. "I know."

- Four weeks later -

Scully pushed herself slowly into Mulder's spoon-shaped form. Movement was still a tedious and painful task for her, especially with her wrist still wrapped in a brace and the stitches scattered across her abdomen. They were still taking baby steps towards restoring their intimacy but today they had finally graduated from gentle huddling fully-clad to spooning naked. Mulder had been very reluctant, still treating her as if she were a brittle Chinese ornament but she had had enough of that. She promised him that should she feel the least bit sore or if exhaustion took her over, that she would let him know immediately so they could resume their 'look but do not touch' routine.

"You OK?" he hummed into her ear, tickling her with his brand new fuzzy beard.

A choked chuckle escaped her.

"What?" he mumbled and tickled her some more.

"You're tickling me," she managed through a second choked chuckle.

He moved his head slightly further from her ear. "You don't like the beard?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you didn't say that you liked it, either."

"It's OK."

He didn't respond immediately. She assumed he was somewhat disappointed by her reaction but she didn't see any point in making it any easier for him. "Mulder?"

"What?"

"I'm still getting used to this new look… and feel."

He snorted. "Lucky for you, you were in hospital while my beard was still in its puberty. I doubt you would have enjoyed the itchy, prickly stubble phase."

"Lucky for you, Mulder" she countered.

He put his head back into her nape and she could feel his smile as the fuzzy bristles moved upwards.

As far as her doctors were concerned, what they were currently doing was basically forbidden land and should have remained as such for the next couple of weeks but she yearned for his embrace, yearned for his touch and she felt that she could trust him and herself to keep her from harm. So far she felt she had been right. It was as if his touch was invigorating her, as if he were a shaman, willing her to heal within his sweat lodge.

Despite him spooning her, he was very apprehensive as to where to put his hand. Usually when spooned his hand would be embracing her, possibly relaxing on her breast. Right now it remained limp along his side and Scully knew he was refraining from moving it any further for fear of passing through her wounds and killing the moment. But she wasn't afraid. In fact, she needed him to touch her traumatized skin because she was still feeling at odds with the whole ordeal that befell her. The final hours felt very hazy to her as she was constantly assaulted by the hidden assailant and for most parts she was unconscious. Thus she wasn't quite sure what had exactly happened. Mulder told her what he saw and she had some vague inkling as to what he was describing to her but it still seemed surreal to say the least. The only things she was sure about were her injuries and the fact that she couldn't recall any actual attacker focalizing on her. She wanted Mulder to touch her stitches. She wanted him to trace her scars. It wasn't logical. It was a strange need; either to force the reality of her ordeal on her or to force the reality of their renewed intimacy. She wasn't quite clear exactly why, but she wanted it. Badly.

She lifted her good arm slowly until she felt his hand. She could feel him shuddering as her hand made contact with his. She felt as if he were a terrified deer, caught in a car's headlight; staring in shock and bewilderment but unable to move a muscle. He stiffened but he remained silent and Scully took this as his consent to her. She gently closed her palm over his and pulled his hand down slowly, taking it for a journey along the devastated land that was her body. She led his fingertips along her scars. His hand was loose within her grip as he let her control the pressure of his touch. His fingers were soft and warm and the delicate tracing of her wounds sent an odd thrilling sensation through her body. She'd dreamt of this moment ever since her bandages were removed. She dreamt of him touching her exposed healing skin, as if the invigoration of it with the touch of his fingers would help accelerate the process. Not that her recovery wasn't considered speedy. In fact, the doctors were amazed by its unusual pace and whenever they mentioned this fact when Mulder was in the room, he kept giving her this odd look, as if trying to push a certain point. She just raised a weary eyebrow back at him forcing him to clamp up and shelf his notions in this regard. There were just too many bizarre items on her plate and she just wasn't ready to address more of the kind.

Finally she laid Mulder's hand on her breast, slowly releasing her hold until his arm now rested across her body, parts of it making contact with her wounds. He was very still, scared of causing havoc. She let out a deliberate audible sigh.

"What's wrong?" he immediately responded, deep concern in his tone.

She paused. Suddenly she realized she was slipping back into her old habit as she found herself contemplating her response to him, calculating just how much she should reveal without causing a ripple in his psyche. She felt revulsion. Her façade was created out of the notion that this was what Mulder needed but now she knew it was a selfish reaction; thinking he'd be better off if he were mollycoddled by her. No. This was never going to work out for Mulder, however mentally scarred he'd been and would be. She sighed again. He had the right to know how she felt and she had the right to express herself and expose herself before him. If she didn't practice this now, there would be no reconciliation. They would grow apart.

"Scully?" Mulder's concern heightened when she remained silent.

"I'm sorry, Mulder."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" confusion added to his concern.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong. I did what I did because I thought it would save you. That it would save us. In reality it almost destroyed everything."

"What brought this on?" he wondered aloud.

"I know you are afraid of hurting me, but I would really like you to be… less… passive right now." She didn't respond to his question. Instead she acted upon her resolve.

"Seriously?!"

His incredulous response made her laugh. "Yes. Seriously. I miss you."

"I've never been away, Scully," he told her as his fingers brushed her breast lightly.

"But I was," she told him.

He pushed himself closer to her and despite herself she could feel moisture forming in the corners of her eyes. She drew a breath, ingesting his delicate sweaty scent into her nostrils, knowing this was the essence she wanted to inhale for the rest of her life. Mulder nudged his head further and she gently pushed back, letting his fuzzy beard graze her neck softly. It felt nice.

"I've made up my mind."

"Huh?"

"About your beard."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I think it's nice."

"Coming from you, this means my beard is God's gift to creation."

She snorted.

They lay in comforting silence; Scully let her eyelids droop as she further relaxed into Mulder's form. It was akin to meditation almost; his warmth lulling her into calm and tranquility. She didn't need much more; just his soft embrace and warm breath beside her ear. It was perfect.

"I know it's sort of ironic but in a way I believe we owe this moment to Miranda." Mulder suddenly spoke.

Scully felt herself tense.

"Relax, Scully. It's not that I don't think she was a deranged lunatic. It's just that… she forced us to deal with our issues—"

"You mean forced me to deal with my issue, right?" She interjected.

"Well, you were dealing with both our issues, in a way, when one comes to think of it."

"And I was doing a crappy job at best." She let out, winded.

"Why do you always feel the need to be this super perfect person?"

"I don't know. It's a heavily ingrained trait I guess. It's very hard for me not to be that kind of person." She paused then continued as she moved her hand and grabbed his and absentmindedly massaged it. "Back in the day, just as I'd question your theories, you'd be questioning mine. We were both forcing each other to step out of our comfort zones and to think out our respective boxes. I guess that when I saw how distorted your world had become after you had gotten out of prison, I figured you weren't capable of any sound judgement and I made my own. Right now I'm feeling very foolish about it all."

He gave her a soft peck on the back of her neck that sent warm ripples down her spine. "We are all brilliant when it comes to hindsight, Scully, but despite my many beliefs, I have yet to find a way to change the past, so for now I think I will stick with something we can have an effect on: the future. Specifically, our future."

Scully smiled. Indeed. Right now at this very moment, even though she knew that somehow the darkness will somehow find its way as it always did, at least for now, in this little house of theirs they were finally in the light, no longer hiding in the shadows of the closet.

THE END

Author's note:
This is a first. I just typed the final sentences and I'm filled with tears. I've never written such a long story and I found the notion of ending it very frightening because I was worried that it would leave a major void inside me. I hope I will find a way to write another one soon.

Thank you kind readers who left me comments. You have definitely been the drive behind this story and my efforts to push it further. You have been amazing! Thank you so much.

And a big thanks to my oldest daughter, Gal, who listened to my endless ramblings about this one. Brave soul that she is *grin* Love ya!