Title: Fevers of the Mind
Author: Vickie Moseley
Summary: Between 'you . . . help . . . me' and
Scully coming to Mulder's door in Amor Fati -- a
whole lot happened.
Rating: Warning, some sexual content (though
fleeting and limited descriptions)
Category: MT, MA, SA
archive: yes
Notes: Thanks to everyone at Mulder's Refuge for
keeping me sane.
comments to me: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Fevers of the Mind
by Vickie Moseley
November 17, 1999
Georgetown Memorial Hospital
Imaging Department
2:45 pm

Scully drew in a breath and watched her partner's
body slide slowly into the computerized
tomography machine. She glanced at her watch and
wondered if it read AM or PM. It had been a long
day.

The screen in front of the technician was showing
the path of the contrasting dye as it worked its way
through the regions of Mulder's brain. So far, so
good. An EEG performed just an hour earlier had
shown that the frenetic brain activity that had been
killing Mulder slowly was now at a stand still. His
brain was once more exhibiting normal alpha and
beta waves, without the spikes for prolonged
periods that had been showing.

For that, Scully had almost relaxed. But during the
EEG it was found that there was some slowing of
the brain and that worried her. To her relief,
Mulder's neurologist had suggested the CT scan,
along with a full battery of blood tests.

"We're looking good," the technician spoke from
the chair beside her. Of course, he was merely
referring to the fact that the dye was not causing the
patient any problems, but Scully again let out a
small sigh of release. She still had no idea what had
happened, but at least whatever had been done,
Mulder wasn't too much the worse for wear.

"I got the blood work back, Dr. Scully," Dr.
Harriman said, holding out a metal chart for her.
"Along with the medications he was receiving while
in our care to increase flow of blood to the brain
and control his seizures, it's apparent he was given a
fairly large dosage of midazolam, IV I would
suspect."

"Versed?" Scully asked. "So they sedated him to
perform the surgery," she said and Harriman
nodded in agreement. "But what procedure did they
perform while they were in there?"

"All done," the tech said helpfully. "The dye is in
there. You should have a pretty good picture. Do
you want me to send these to your office, Dr.
Harriman?"

"Do you mind if we take a look here?" Harriman
asked and the tech shook his head and got up out of
his chair in front of the computer. Harriman took
his place with Scully looking over his shoulder.

"I don't see -- " Scully started and then stopped.

"There. I believe something was done there,"
Harriman said, circling an area with his finger.
"But to be honest, the brain looks fine. There is
some swelling, but that's to be expected. I can't see
where any tissue or growth was removed."

"Or added," Scully said quietly, which earned her a
sharp look from the other doctor. They looked
through the images for a few minutes and finally
Harriman got up, motioning for Scully to follow
into the hall.

"I think we'll keep him here under observation for
the next 48 hours. The amount of sedative in his
bloodstream and the fact that he has undergone
some sort of surgery on the Dura matter would
make it irresponsible of me to send him home any
earlier. There are still complications that can arise
with this sort of surgery and we have no idea of the
conditions -- "

"The place looked sterile, but I wouldn't put
anything past them." Scully had to stop herself
again. As much as she wanted to rage against the
forces that would kidnap a seriously ill man from
his hospital bed, she didn't want to take up
Harriman's time on a futile effort.

Harriman flashed her a smile. "Well, we'll take
good care of him now," he assured her. "I've put
you on his chart as the only person with Agent
Mulder's medical power of attorney. I think our
lawyers will back me up if his mother comes in
again."

"No, I really doubt we'll be seeing her now that he's
back. But thank you."

Harriman turned to leave but reached back and
touched Scully's sleeve. "You need to get some
rest, too, Dr. Scully. I know it's been hard these last
few weeks, but the crisis seems to be over. Take
some time to regroup."

"I'm fine," Scully replied with a forced smile. "I'll
be in his room upstairs if you need me."

Neurology, Seventh Floor
Room 713
5:15 pm

Scully startled awake when she felt a hand on her
shoulder. "Sorry," the nurse said, speaking softly.
"I just wanted to let you know you have a phone
call at the desk."

"Oh, thank you," Scully said, wiping the moisture
from the corner of her mouth. She'd fallen asleep in
the chair next to Mulder's bed. The last time she'd
looked at her watch it had been a little after 3.
She'd been asleep just two hours and felt like she'd
been run over by a truck. It was all starting to hit
her, Mulder's illness, his disappearance, the last four
days frantically trying to find him and not knowing
how to cure him. She stood up and stretched
exhausted muscles. "I'll be outside."

The nurse nodded to her and smiled, keeping her
attention focused on her patient. As the woman
checked Mulder's vitals, Scully went out to take her
call.

It was Harriman again. He'd had his partner, a
neurosurgeon, take a look at Mulder's CT scans.
The other doctor had come to the same conclusion -
- a procedure had been performed but for
indeterminate cause and with no apparent damage
to the brain. Scully thanked Harriman and looked
over at the agent stationed on a chair outside
Mulder's door.

"Agent Howard, I'm going downstairs for a bite to
eat and a decent cup of coffee. Would you like
one?" Howard was the agent Skinner had sent over
when Scully had called to tell the Assistant Director
that she'd found Mulder. He was a five-year
veteran of Violent Crimes who had worked with
Mulder and Scully briefly on a case when he'd first
joined the DC office. He was professional and
dedicated and Scully felt she could trust him at least
as far as making sure no one without authorization
entered Mulder's room.

"No thanks, Agent Scully. The nurses are keeping
me supplied with the stuff the doctor's drink, so I'm
good." Howard looked over to the door behind him.
"How's Agent Mulder doing?"

"He's still asleep. His tests have gone well. We'll
know more when he wakes up," she answered with
a smile. "I'll just be a few minutes." She started
toward the elevator but the nurse exiting Mulder's
room called her back.

"Dr. Harriman left orders to notify you if there was
any change, Dr. Scully. I think you need to take a
look." The woman handed over Mulder's chart.

Scully read it over quickly and frowned. "His temp
is elevated. What was it when we came in?" She
really didn't expect an answer, she was speaking to
herself. She flipped through the pages of the chart
and found the earlier notation. "It was 99.5 on
admission, now it's 100.6. It's up a full degree."

"Dr. Harriman wanted to be alerted to any changes,
I'll call him now," the nurse said as Scully handed
back the chart.

"Yes, I think you should," Scully responded, all
thoughts of her hunger now out the window. "I'll be
in Agent Mulder's room," she said over her
shoulder.

He looked the same, still asleep. Quietly she
walked over to the bed and took his hand in hers.
His fingers felt warm. She pressed the palm of her
other hand against his forehead and then his cheek.
Too warm. "Mulder, would you cut this out?" she
pleaded. She almost jerked her hand back when he
groaned and moved his head.

"Mulder? Mulder, can you hear me?" she asked,
dragging the chair over with one hand, never letting
go of his fingers entwined with hers. "Mulder, it's
me, Scully. Wake up, please."

"Hmmmm," he groaned again, moving his head
slowly back and forth. "ssccu-lll," he tried. She
could see him working his eyelids, trying to get
them open.

"Keep trying," she encouraged. Finally, she was
rewarded with two slits of hazel through the lashes,
but he immediately slammed his lids shut and
groaned aloud.

"Mulder, what is it?" she asked worriedly.

"light," he rasped out and grimaced as just speaking
caused him more pain.

"The light? The light hurts your head?" she
inquired. He nodded cautiously, already in great
pain and not wanting to increase his own
discomfort.

"I'll shut the blinds and turn off the overheads," she
told him. She hurried around the room, gradually
casting it in darkness with her actions. "Better?"

He lifted his lids slowly, anticipating the pain. "A
little," he whispered hoarsely. "Still hurts, though."

"I'm sorry. I was going to ask how you're feeling,
but I guess you already answered that. Mulder, do
you know where you are?"

He frowned in concentration, his eyes still closed.
"No. Hospital?" he offered.

"Yes. You're in Georgetown Memorial. I don't
want to tax your system by telling you everything
you've been through, but you've been through a
rough time." She picked up his hand again, stroking
the long fingers.

"Pains to prove it," he quipped back but winced
again just after saying a few words. "Tired."

"I know you're tired. You should rest," she told
him. He nodded solemnly and soon his fingers
were slack in her hand. She took another moment
to feel the heat from his forehead before going back
out to the nurses' station to look over his chart once
more.

Harriman was coming off the elevator as she made
her way to the desk. "I had them draw blood at 3,
those results should be back by now," he said
without greeting.

"Are you suspecting an infection?" Scully asked,
biting her lip.

"I was hoping against it, but given the unusual
nature of this case from day one, I wasn't prepared
to bet against him getting one, either," Harriman
told her. He walked around to one of the cubicles
left open for doctors and grabbed the phone. "I'll
call the lab, see if I can speed things up a bit."

Scully paced the floor while she waited. She heard
her name again, this time a familiar voice and
looked up. John Byers stepped off the elevator and
hurried over to her. "Agent Scully, how's he
doing?"

"Byers, what are you doing here?" she asked,
looking up and down the hall. Agent Howard
stood, noticing her concern, but she waved him
back into his seat. "Where are the other two?" she
hissed.

"Back at the office," Byers told her sotto voce,
walking her down the hall. "We got some
information and we thought you'd want to know."

"Information? What information?"

"Agent Diana Fowley didn't show up for work
today," Byers said simply.

"She's taken off. Why am I not surprised," Scully
intoned sarcastically.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Agent Scully. Her
whereabouts are unknown. We didn't want to
intrude but -- "

"You tried to locate her? Why?" Scully growled.

Byers found his shoes very interesting. "We just . .
. we thought she might go after Mulder . . ." He
looked up at Scully again. "It doesn't matter, she's
fallen off the face of the planet from what we can
tell."

"I can't say I'm all that sorry to hear that," Scully
shot back. At his contrite expression she softened
her tone. "Look, thank you for helping me get him
here, but we've got a guard and I'm not leaving this
place, so he's safe -- for now. Just go back home
and I'll call you with any news about Mulder's
condition, OK?" She turned and almost ran into
Harriman.

"Dr. Scully, I'm afraid we have a problem."

Mulder's Apartment
nightfall

He woke up from a deep sleep, hearing a noise at
the door. Groggily he walked over and flipped the
lock while looking through the keyhole. When he
saw the visitor, he opened the door and ushered her
in.

"Diana. What do you want?"

"Fox, you have to come with me. Now. Get your
shoes."

He regarded her for a moment. She looked anxious;
she kept glancing out into the hallway. "Why?
Why should I go with you?"

As quick as the blink of an eye, her expression
changed. She smiled seductively and traipsed over
to him, putting her arms around his neck. "Fox,
there was a time I didn't need to ask twice," she
purred into his ear.

"Mulder." He turned as best as he could to see
Scully standing in the doorway. "Mulder, we have
a case. Are you coming?"

"He's coming with me," Diana said, tightening her
grip around his neck. "Aren't you, Fox? You don't
need her anymore. I'm here now. I'll take care of
you."

"Mulder, we have to go. The evidence is being
removed as we speak," Scully repeated, ignoring
Diana's groping.

Diana took the opportunity of his distraction to cup
his cheek and bring him to her mouth for a
blistering kiss. "Fox. You can have it all. You can
have me again. Remember how it was when we
were together, how we had everything we needed,
you needed. We could have it all again."

"Mulder, are you just going to stand there?" Scully
demanded. "What about Samantha? What about
the truth? We have to find out what was done to me
when I was abducted. Are you just going to forget
about the last seven years? Are you going to quit
now?"

"Diana, I have to go," Mulder said, pulling away
from her, but not before returning one more kiss.
"Scully needs me."

"She doesn't need you, Fox. She never did. She
was sent to spy on you. Can't you see that?" Diana
pleaded, tugging on his neck.

Gently he tried to remove her arms from his neck.
When he looked to the doorway, Scully was gone
but he could still hear her heels tapping on the floor.
"Scully, wait!" he cried out. He finally extracted
himself from Diana's clutches, but by the time he
was in the hall, the elevator doors were closing.
"Scully! Wait!"

Georgetown Memorial
9:05 pm

Scully stood outside Mulder's room, looking
through the window. Unconsciously she'd begun to
bite her lower lip, almost drawing blood. How
could they have allowed this to happen?

Inside the room, Dr. Harriman and two male nurses
were carefully extracting spinal fluid from Mulder's
back. Mulder, was lying on his side, curled in a
fetal position. He was sedated, as much as they
dared given his condition. He'd been combative
while they prepped him for the lumbar puncture.
The two male nurses had been forced to restrain
him while the mild sedative took effect. With a
temperature hitting 103, he was delirious and weak,
but strong enough to put up one heck of a fight.
And through it all he kept calling out to Scully,
begging her to come back.

She couldn't take it anymore. She had tried
repeatedly to make him aware of her presence but to
no avail. Harriman tried to persuade her that
Mulder was dreaming that she wasn't there, but
Scully was convinced that he was reminding her of
his kidnapping, that she hadn't been there to stop it.
Fortunately for her, the mask and gown had hidden
most of the tears that fell on her cheeks and she left
the room so that the doctor and nurses couldn't hear
her choked sobs.

She watched Harriman hold up the needle,
examining it in the light. His guarded expression
was obvious even from this distance and when all
she could see were his eyes. He handed the syringe
with the cerebral spinal fluid to the nurse at his
elbow and stripped off his gloves. The other nurse
was busy placing a gauze pad and adhesive strips on
Mulder's back to protect the puncture wound.
Carefully, both nurses moved Mulder back into a
supine position, no pillow, absolutely flat. They
checked the oxygen cannula under his nose to
ensure that it was providing the necessary element,
covered him gently and pulled up the rail on the
side of the bed.

Harriman was taking off his mask as he joined her
in the hall. "There was some cloudiness. We'll
send it down to the lab and should have an initial
assessment within a few hours. Of course, it will be
days before the culture comes back -- "

"But by then we'll know pretty much what we're
dealing with," Scully interjected dully. "What are
you thinking? Initially, of course."

"I refuse to bet my Titlist golf clubs on it, but I'd
say meningitis," Harriman spoke thoughtfully.
"Let's go down to one of the offices where we can
sort this out."

Soon they were seated in a comfortable, if generic,
office. Harriman sat behind the desk, in easy reach
of the computer, but he had the monitor turned so
that Scully could read it as well. "As you probably
remember, we had him on Phenobarbital, after the
unfortunate incident with the Phenytoin. But, of
course, that treatment ended when Agent Mulder,
um, left our care."

Scully drew in a deep breath. It aggravated her to
no end that Harriman was still tap dancing around
Mulder's kidnapping. She understood the 'medical
code' and the desire to speak no ill of a colleague,
but the men who had taken Mulder and operated on
him were more criminal than collegial. "Yes, I
understand," she prodded.

"Well, we're putting him back on the Phenobarbital
for seizures. To fight the bacterium, I would like to
put him on Ceftriaxone. If the culture shows that
we're dealing with e. coli, we can change that to
Gentamicin sulfate."

"What about the swelling? His brain has been
through so much already, I don't know how much
more he can take," Scully fretted.

"Nor do I, quite frankly," Harriman admitted. "In
light of everything else he's been through, I'm going
with Dexamethasone. I know from his chart that
he's done well with Mannitol in the past, but given
the high chance of disability . . ."

"No, I think you're right. I did some reading on the
subject recently." She remembered the 22-hour
flight from the Ivory Coast to Washington and the
medical journal she'd read cover to cover.

"Well, we have him on oxygen, we'll be taking
blood gases at least twice a day for now. I think we
might have found the 'golden hour' on our side,
Agent Scully. But I do want to caution you -- "

"I know. We might do everything right and he still
might not make it," she said dully.

Harriman reached over the desk and patted her
hand. "He's a fighter. He's proven that over and
over again. I wouldn't bet against him."

"Not even for a new set of clubs?" Scully quipped,
heartened by the doctor's sincere words.

"No, not even for that," Harriman said with a wink
of his eye. "Now, can I please convince you to at
least get something to eat down in the cafeteria? It's
almost time for the evening lunch hour and if you
don't go now, all the good entrees will be gone."

Scully nodded with a tired smile. She stood up and
walked to the door, Harriman close on her heels.
"I'll be staying tonight in his room, you know," she
said before taking her leave.

"I never thought you'd be anywhere else," Harriman
said with a shrug. "I'll be by first thing in the
morning. If anything arises during the night -- "

"I'll have the nurse call you. Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure, Dr. Scully. We'll get him through
this. I'm sure of it."

Warehouse
night

Mulder fought his way to consciousness with a
growl. His head was killing him and he could feel
the knot already formed at the back of his skull.
Whatever he'd been hit with, it was hard and heavy.
He looked around and saw that he was alone.

With effort, he rose to his feet, swaying with
dizziness. The black dots faded from his vision and
he squared his shoulders. There was a light outside
and he headed toward it.

Diana pulled up in a car. She reached over and
opened the door, waving him inside. "Fox, quick,
we need to get out of here."

"What's going on, Diana?" he asked. He could see
the light now. It was far away and up in the sky but
it was headed right toward them.

"Get in the car," she demanded. "Fox, we don't
have time!"

"No. What's that light?" he asked, now shielding
his eyes from the brightness.

"Mulder! Mulder, where are you?" He turned to
hear Scully shouting. She was running along the
side of the warehouse, but from her vantage point
she couldn't see him where he was standing by
Diana's car.

"Scully! I'm over here."

"Mulder, they're coming! Get out here now!"
Scully called again, but her voice was fading as she
ran around the back of the warehouse.

"I have to go," Mulder said, looking in at Diana.

"But Fox, what about them?" Diana indicated the
backseat of the car and Mulder hesitated before
looking there. In the seat were two small children, a
boy and a girl. "They need a father, Fox."

Mulder shook his head and looked again. The
children had grown but they both looked like Emily
Sim now, the boy could have been Emily's twin
brother. "Daddy?" said the little girl. "Aren't you
coming with us?"

"Mulder! I see them! Hurry!" Scully's voice was
brought to him on a gust of wind. He spun around,
searching for her location.

"Scully! I'm coming!" he yelled. He started out in
the direction he'd last seen her, but every time he
got close, Diana would pull the car in front of him.

"Get out of my way, Diana!" he shouted at her
angrily.

"Fox, you have to stop this foolishness! Get in the
car!" Diana hissed.

He'd had enough. He dodged her this time, coming
out ahead of her. He ran as fast as he could,
breaking into an open parking lot. The light was
there; it was coming from the underbelly of a
massive flying ship. Scully was on the ground,
looking up at the structure with an awed expression.

"Scully! Get away from it!" he yelled with all his
might. She turned to look at him, gave him a smile
and suddenly a beam of light from the ship flashed
down and engulfed her. As he ran toward her, she
was lifted up into the ship. He tired to reach for her,
but she was too high up. He yelled and shouted but
she couldn't hear him. Then she was gone, the light
was gone and he was alone.

He sank to his knees sobbing for his loss.

Georgetown Memorial Hospital
Neuro ICU
4:15 am

Mulder's condition worsened as the night
progressed. By midnight, Harriman ordered him
moved to a bed in the ICU. Scully was somewhat
relieved that they didn't put him in the same room
from which he'd been abducted, but it was only a
momentary respite. His fever spiked and they
worked on him for hours trying to bring down his
dangerously high temperature. They'd added a
cooling blanket just after 1:30 and his temp had
hovered at just under 102 ever since. High, but not
brain-frying high, they hoped.

Through it all, Scully hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.
She sat by his bedside, stroking his hand, his arm,
the patch of forehead not encircled with gauze, any
part of him she could reach. He seemed to calm
somewhat when she was touching him. On those
rare moments when she had to stretch her back and
had to walk the small floor, he would be restless,
tossing his head back and forth, calling out for her.

The sedative had worn off long ago and Harriman
had been reluctant to give him any more. If she
could keep him calm without the medication, she
would do it. So she stood by his bed, stroking his
cheek, talking to him quietly. She told him stories
of her days in medical school, some of the crazy
doctors she'd had for teachers. She told him of the
head of neurology she studied under and the small
red pick up truck he drove to the hospital with the
sign on the side stating 'Brain Surgery and Light
Hauling'. Sometimes, she could almost make
herself believe that Mulder was actually listening to
her, could understand what she was telling him.

But in reality, he was so very far away. The
swelling in his brain, brought on by the infection
and the fever, was reaching the point of becoming
fatal. As she continued to try and make him
comfortable she couldn't help remembering her
vigil at her sister Melissa's bedside and how Missy
had finally just slipped away. It was everything she
could do not to break down in tears.

After hours of standing, she made a decision.
Mulder was quieter when she was close, then she'd
just get closer. She slowly lowered the bedrail and
hopped up to perch on the side of the bed. The
cooling blanket chilled her hip to the bone, but she
was able to lean over and rest her head on Mulder's
shoulder. He let out a quiet sigh and relaxed against
her. She couldn't remember her last conscious
thought but she understood the emotion. It was
relief.

Mulder's apartment
night

He poised over her, looking down. God, she was
beautiful. In the faint light of a half moon she
looked luminescent, radiant, alive with all the fire
and passion the universe had ever seen. And she
was his, his alone. His Scully. She moaned, the
seductive temptress between his legs, and stroked
him hilt to tip. "Oh, God, Scully if you keep that up
this won't last long," he growled.

"Then we'll just have to regroup and try again," she
purred and he felt the chuckle bubble up from his
very toes.

"Oh, God, I love you," he moaned into her mouth as
he captured her lips once again in a bruising kiss.

"You don't believe in God, Mulder," she teased, still
stroking him, bringing him closer to insanity.

"I do now," he answered, breathless as he lowered
himself to join with her.

The door slammed open and the harsh yellow-
brown light from the hallway invaded their private
retreat.

"Fox, I'm back," Diana announced, striding into the
bedroom as if she were on a military campaign.

"What is she doing here?" both Scully and Diana
asked in unison, but there was nothing humorous
about their tone of voice.

"Diana, please, get out," Mulder pleaded, jumping
off the bed. In his haste, he'd left Scully uncovered
and immediately regretted his actions. He reached
out to cover her with the sheet, but Scully was
already on her feet on the other side of the bed,
grabbing clothes.

"Fine, Mulder, fine. If that's how it's going to be,
fine! I can play second fiddle to the Truth, I can
play Sancho to your Don Quixote, but I'll be
damned if I'm going to play 'sloppy seconds'!"
Scully seethed from the corner of the bed as she
pulled on jeans and a sweater.

"Scully, no, you don't understand! It's not like
that," he implored.

She stopped, regarding the other woman in the
room as if she were a snake about to strike. "Well
then tell me. What is it like?" she asked angrily.

"I'm not . . . I don't . . . I . . . I didn't . . . " As hard
as he tried, Mulder could not come up with the
words to resolve this crisis.

Scully's eyes narrowed to slits and she'd never
looked so cold and heartless to him. "That's exactly
what I thought," she said evenly and left the room.
When he heard the front door of the apartment slam
closed, it sounded like his death knell.

He dropped to the bed, face in his hands, hot tears
streaming down his cheeks.

"Fox, forget about her," Diana urged, pulling at his
hands to uncover his tortured face. "I'm here now.
I'll make it all better."

"I don't . . . I d-d-don't . . . " he stammered.

Diana pulled his head toward her shoulder and
wrapped her arms around him. "You don't need her
now, I've told you that. I understand that you didn't
mean to cheat on me -- "

He pushed her back and looked hard at her. "'Cheat
on you'? What are you talking about? I never
'cheated' on you! There was nothing between us to
'cheat' on! You left me, remember?"

She pulled on his shoulders to bring him closer.
When he refused and held fast, she caressed his
cheek. "Poor baby, so confused. Don't you
remember? I left to go make a life for us in Europe.
I did just as you asked, Fox. I found us a wonderful
little apartment in Berlin; you could see the river
from our balcony. It was perfect. But you never
came to me. You sent me away, telling me you
would follow, but you never came."

Mulder stared at her in total disbelief. "Diana,
you're crazy! You told me I had to make a choice --
make a commitment to you or you would leave me.
I told you I wasn't ready for commitment, that I'd
been married once before when I was quite young
and it was a mistake. So you took the first
assignment you could get out of Washington and it
just happened to be in Europe. There was no 'life
for us in Europe'! There was only you, you and
your demands, demands that I couldn't live up to.
I'm the one who is sorry, Diana, if you were led to
believe anything else." Gently, he pulled away
from her hands again. He stood and drew in a
breath. "Now, please go. I have to find Scully."
He tossed on his clothes and left her sitting on the
bed.

She stood up, crossed her arms and followed him
down the hall. "You won't find her, Fox. She's
gone."

He was pulling on his shoes as he searched his
pockets one-handed for his keys.

"They have her now."

He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened
and he turned to look at his former partner and long
ago one-night-stand. "What did you say?" he
hissed.

"They have her. Just like before. But this time,
they won't bring her back." Diana glared at him,
then smiled evilly. "You honestly thought you
could ever love anyone, Fox? That the minute you
found happiness it wouldn't be snatched away from
you like a child's lollipop gets stolen? What a fool
you are, Fox Mulder! What an unmitigated fool!"

"No! No, Diana, don't -- " He realized it was
useless to plead his case with her, so he ran. Out of
the apartment, out into the night. On the distant
horizon he could see a bright spot move in a
perfectly straight line up into the heavens where it
was engulfed in a thundercloud. He was left,
searching the sky, calling out her name.

end of part one