The Damascus Files - File 1(1/2)

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TITLE: The Damascus Files - File 1(1/2)
AUTHOR: Katvictory
DISCLAIMERS: They all belong to Chris Carter and Fox, I want nothing. Don't
sue. There really is a Rustic, Colorado but there are no extremist living
there. There really is a Sky Watch Bed & Breakfast but Mr. Wagner doesn't own
it. I have tinkered with the history, geography, even the weather in this long
story. No offense was meant, it was all done simply to advance the story.

SUMMARY: Mulder gains amazing and frightening psychic powers after suffering a
debilitating, life altering head injury. The search for the truth, of where the
powers come from lead the pair to Central America and some amazing discoveries
about God, aliens and themselves.

CATEGORIES: Mulder torture, Scully angst, MSR there toward the end, Post
colonization in parts, Alternate universe.

SPOILERS: Every dang episode clear up to the Unnatural. But no Biogenesis,
Believe it or not, this story was started and first posted well before I saw
this season's cliff-hanger. Everyone likes stores about space seed, alien
astronauts, and Mulder developing third-eye-like Psi powers.

Note from the author: Eventually this story will be composed of three separate
files, each one detailing a separate story. This is File 1.

"As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed
around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, "Saul, Saul,
why do you persecute me?" "Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked. "I am Jesus, whom
you are persecuting," he replied. "Now get up and go into the city, and you
will be told what you must do." The men traveling with Saul stood there
speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone. Saul got up from the
ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing. So they led him by
the hand into Damascus."

WAGNER - No, I'll get Kami to transcribe it. You don't have to do this, you
know? We have enough on what happened to document it without you. Are you sure
you don't mind?

MULDER - Okay, here we go. My last case as a Special Agent for the FBI was one
I never should have taken. You know the old saying --fool me once, shame on
you? I'd gone undercover once before. It was a lot like this case. I almost got
killed that time, too.

I hope this isn't too confusing for you, Mr. Wagner. If I could figure out a
way to make notes, maybe I could keep everything in order. I'm sorry, maybe
when Scully comes back she could help me...

KAMI WAGNER - I'm here, Mulder. I'll help, okay? Just start at the beginning.
Tell how you got assigned the case. Wasn't it your friend, Skinner?

MULDER - Yeah, Assistant Director Walter Skinner. I never thought he'd do this
to me, you know? Scully, that is, Special Agent Dana Scully was out of town
when I left. They sent me to Kansas City first. I picked up my cover story
there. I was Marty Fulcher. A professor of Sociology at Middlebury College in
Vermont. I quit teaching to join the Brotherhood.

MULDER - The Brotherhood of Barnabas. An extremist group. They had a compound
in a little town in the Rockies, Rustic, Colorado. It's not far from Fort
Collins. We had an informant, who'd told us that they were planning something.
That they were building up their fire power. That part was true. They were. I
mean they'd gotten enough guns they coulda armed a small country. And they were
going to hit several federal offices in Denver. Right before New Years was when
they planned to do it. I was there with the Brotherhood for two months. I
thought they'd bought my cover. They let me in on all their plans. I thought I
was getting away with it. I was just biding my time, until I could surface. I'd
learned everything. I did what I was supposed to. I had all the information. I
did the job that they sent me there to do. Just like they told me.

MULDER - Aramis, that's Brother Aramis, he was our informant. He was the one
who set me up, I guess. Did they ever find out for sure?

KAMI - No, Mulder. He was killed in the raid. All of the leaders were killed.
Remember?

MULDER - I remember. You want me to tell about that day, right? We were
supposed to be going to Laramie. To meet our contact, Mike, to buy some ammo.
Brother Aramis suggested I go along. I thought he was giving me a way out. You
know? So I could surface, and make my report. We left out early in the morning.
It's a pretty canyon. The Poudre. Cache Le Poudre Canyon. You know the
trapper's named it that because that's where they used to hide their supplies.
It means, hide the powder in French. Ironic, huh?

MULDER - No. No, I can finish. (pause) I should have known something was up,
but I didn't leave the compound too many times in those two months. I didn't
really know the area that well. I mean, I didn't realize we were on the wrong
road. I saw the sign. I saw we were going to Glendevey. It just didn't click.
We passed the Boy Scout camp before I realized what was happening. When I saw
the Boy Scout camp, I started thinking I might be in trouble.

KAMI - Mulder, I know. But Dad wants you to tell this for the files. Tell me
why passing the Boy Scout camp worried you.

MULDER - Yeah, I'm fine. (sigh) I knew when we passed the Boy Scout camp that
they weren't taking the main route to Laramie. You can get to Laramie the way
we were going, but why would anyone want to try it? Not during winter. We
should have gone down 287. We were going the back route. Then I noticed nobody
would look me in the eye. I knew something was wrong. My cover'd been blown.
They were taking the back route to get rid of me. We turned off the main road.
I could feel the sweat running down my ribs, underneath my shirt. When we
stopped at an open field, out in the middle of nowhere, I knew I was dead.

"Marty, it's over," David Moye told me. He had a gun. What could I say? For
once in my life, I was too scared to say anything. I'd gone through this once
before. The last time I had gone undercover. I started praying that history
would repeat itself. That I would come out of this alive. Well, my prayers were
answered. I'm alive. I've just learned to be a little more specific when I pray.

They made me strip. I don't know why. Thank God it was only down to my long
johns, but they still took my shoes and socks. They cuffed my hands behind my
back and made me follow them. I was barefoot and shivering. We stopped in the
middle of the clearing. It was more dramatic that way, I guess. They told me to
kneel. I acted like I was going to do it. I don't really know what I was
thinking. I knew there wasn't any place to run. I knew if I did run, they'd
have a clear shot at me. But, I guess instinct took over. I pretended I was
getting down to my knees, but I lurched against David. He fell into the snow
and I took off. I made it exactly 12 yards. It said so in the report.

The first bullet hit me in the back. It didn't really hurt. All I felt was the
impact. It knocked me off my feet. Sometimes cold is a blessing, you know. And
shock, shock helps a lot too. I got to my feet and tried to run, again. I was
kind of stumbling. Falling down, getting back up. They had all the time they
needed. They had a clear shot that whole time. They just wanted to have some
fun with me. They wanted to watch me scramble.

The second bullet took my life away. I don't even remember it hitting the back
of my head. It went in here, just under my left ear. When it came out it left a
three inch crater in my face. It took out my eye and most of my sinuses on that
side. I fell face first into the snow. That saved my life, the cold kept me
from bleeding to death. (long pause) I think that's all. I'm tired now. Can I
stop, Kami?

I first discovered that Special Agent Fox Mulder had been given an undercover
assignment upon my return from emergency leave. When I found out that it had
something to do with the Barnabas Brotherhood, I was irate, both at Assistant
Director Skinner and Mulder himself. Agent Mulder, while an excellent field
agent did not specialize in deep undercover cases and I felt the bureau was
negligent in assigning someone with his lack of experience to attempt a covert
operation this dangerous. I felt there was an ulterior motive for sending my
partner into such a potentially disastrous situation so ill equipped. I was
right.

For two months I fought the system. I continued to run the X-Files to the best
of my abilities, but my main focus was on trying to find out where they had
sent Agent Mulder and attempting to convince the powers that be, to reassign
him to his regular duties. When A.D. Skinner informed me on February 22, 1999
of Agent Mulder's hospitalization, I immediately booked a flight to Colorado
and tendered my resignation. I left the hand written notice on Skinner's desk
and walked out of the building. I have never returned. All correspondence with
the bureau has been handled by my mother at my behest.

I know this letter will wind up in your files. This is my unofficial report.
Somehow, I feel more comfortable telling you what happened, about my feelings
concerning the betrayal and Mulder's injuries this way. I think I have made my
last official report. Anything else you want to know from me, it'll have to be
this way. I am making this a prerequisite of my employment. Please, no more
reports! Just newsy letters.

I first want to thank you for all you've done for us. You've opened your home
and your heart to us and I can never repay you for your kindness. I don't
believe Mulder would have come so far in his recovery if it hadn't been for
you. In six short months he has made such amazing leaps in his journey back. I
honestly have hope now that he'll be able to make a life for himself. I read
the transcripts of his report to you and I cried. I see a shadow of the old Fox
Mulder there. Thank you for giving him back to me.

So now, I'll tell the first part of my story. As I stated in my "Official"
report, I booked a flight, gave Skinner my resignation, told my mother what had
happened, where I was going and that I'd be in touch. I then boarded the flight
at 6:00 PM, and fell into an exhausted sleep the moment we were in the air. I
awoke when the plane touched down at DIA. I had chased the sun, and it was only
7:00 Mountain Standard Time. But, since it was wintertime, I drove to Fort
Collins in the dark. I didn't have much information on Mulder's condition. Just
that it was critical, that he'd been shot twice. Once in the head. And that it
didn't look good. I'll admit to you I prayed, selfishly, that he wouldn't die.
I didn't care at that point, how badly he'd been hurt. I just didn't want to
lose him.

I arrived at Poudre Valley Hospital at 8:30. I'm listed as Mulder's next of
kin, so I was allowed to see him. If I hadn't seen his hands, I wouldn't have
known it was him. They had found him the morning before. The rancher who owned
the property near Glendevey had heard the gunshots. He had called the sheriff
and Mulder was airlifted to PVH.

I know his records already have a place here in your files. You know what the
damage was. I can't really explain what it felt like to see him the way he'd
been left. Mulder's face was so grotesquely swollen he didn't even appear
human. The skin over his left cheek had actually split. There was nothing left
of his ocular socket and very little of the upper bridge of his nose. Luckily
the nurse saw me sway. I honestly believe I would have fainted if she hadn't
slid a chair beneath me.

I didn't see how he could live. That is when I first wondered whether Mulder
would want to live, damaged the way he was. Not just the physical deformities.
I knew there had to be brain damage. There was no way he could have escaped it.
I needed to speak to his Doctor. I knew what his wishes were. It was my place
as his next of kin, as his friend, to make sure his living will was honored. I
reached out to touch his hand, hoping to let him know I was there and that I
would do what he'd want me to do.

When I saw those long tapered fingers, that hand I'd held so many times, it
hit me. This was Mulder. My Mulder. I cried.

Thank you for being there for me last night. I'm so sorry I woke you. In
answer to your question, yes...it's always the same dream. It started the
second week after Mulder got hurt. That's before we found the right meds for
his convulsions. At that point he was having upwards of 15 Grand Mal seizures a
day. I was at my wits end. So was Doctor Raposa.

You see Kami, Mulder reacts strangely to medication. He is such a fighter that
he was never fully comatose and the doctor was afraid to put him deeper because
of the reactions he's had. A good part of the time we were having to restrain
him. She weaned him off the respirator the first week because he fought it so
hard.

I was so tired by that time. Kami, I hate to admit it but I was afraid he was
going to live. There, I said it. Isn't it horrible? I didn't want him to have
to live like this and I was afraid he wasn't going to get any better. That
night I went back to the motel, the night I first had the dream, he'd had 18
Grand Mal seizures in 16 hours. I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep in my
clothes.

I feel his touch. We've never been together like...that. But I love his hands.
He has the hands of a musician. I feel those long, beautiful fingers gently
caressing my skin. Feather light, they run down my side and over my hip. Half
asleep, I squirm back and melt at the warmth of his flesh against me. I feel
him grow hard. I want him. I turn over to face him and I see him as he was
then. The way he looked right after he was injured. You never saw him like
that, Kami, but his face was a bloody ruin of mangled flesh.

He smiles and his lips split open. Blood trickles down his chin and still he
grins. I touch the tear and his skin falls off in my hand. This is wrong! I'm
making it worse! I need to help him. I have to fix him. But I can't. The more I
try, the quicker the tissue slides off his bones. I know I'm losing him...

SCULLY - Mulder, Mr. Wagner wants me to ask you a few questions about when you
were in the hospital.

SCULLY - I know WE did Mulder, but the tape wasn't running. We need to do it
again. For Mr. Wagner.

SCULLY - He keeps files, Mulder. Files on all kinds of things. You understand,
Mulder? About files?

MULDER - No. You still didn't tell me why he wants to know this stuff about
ME, about US.

SCULLY - Mr. Wagner, he -- well, he used to follow our work, Mulder. Back when
we had the X-Files.

MULDER - So what do I do now? Why does he want to know these things? He's
always watching me Scully. I can feel it. He's always asking me questions.
You're always asking me questions. I'm tired of it.

MULDER - I don't know. I don't know what I want to do. What can I do? What can
I do now, Scully?

I look at these files, all that you have on Mulder, and I'm stunned. He is
making progress by leaps and bounds. I understand your interest in him. His
recovery HAS been a miracle. It IS fascinating.

I just transcribed the second interview. I don't know if you'll even want it.
He talks about nothing. He was in a mood.

He talks about nothing, but he says everything! I can't answer his questions.
Where DOES he go from here? What CAN he do? Why did he live? I've known the man
for 7 years. He has to have a purpose. Even like he is now. Can't you see that?

Mr. Wagner, what is it you want from him? Do you think he still has a purpose?
Some purpose other than being interesting reading for your files? I'll tell
you, that's not enough for him, Mr. Wagner. He needs to have more of a reason
than that to keep going. I need him to have more.

( NOTE - Dad, I talked him into this. He has agreed to talk to me as a brain
injury patient, responding to questions regarding how the mind recovers from
that trauma. He can deal with you wanting to know about his disabilities from a
scientific point of view. The other day, his problem was he couldn't get past
thinking you were probing him personally. We might try allowing me alone to do
the interviews. Scully is just too close. While he talks to her about
everything, he feels violated when she shares what he says with you.

I'm going to color these transcripts up a bit, take notes and tell what he
does during the session. I don't think we can quite get the true picture of
what he says without more description of his emotional responses. That is
another area where he is beginning to flower. He hasn't yet learned to control
them, but now his range of emotions go beyond simple anger and calm. Read this
transcript. See if you like how I flesh out the interview).

MULDER - (M. pauses. Look of concentration. He chews his bottom lip. It's a
habit he has). Ah-h-h...I think I was still in the ICU. Look it up, Kami. (He
seems interested by where the interview is going. He is excited).

MULDER - (impatience) I know I still had the thing in my neck. What's it
called? (He's frustrated. His aphasia has him unable to find the right word. He
waves his hand, giving up, then demands of K). Look up when they fixed my neck.

MULDER - (disgust, concentration) No, No...I mean before the closed that hole.
I was breathing through my neck. I couldn't talk. (Stops surprised by K's
information ) They had me on a machine? I don't remember that. I hate those
things...

KAMI - (checking records) Mulder they closed the tracheotomy March 7th. You
were moved from ICU on March 23.

MULDER - Okay, then that's when, sometime before they closed it. I don't
remember what all she said to me. The words really didn't come through. But I
would wake up and I could hear her talking. It was the sound of her voice. She
was always there. Always. (Mulder begins to cry, silently). Can I have some
water? Turn it off, Kami, please.

(I suggested ending the session. Mulder was intrigued where this interview was
going and the memories that were surfacing. After getting his emotions under
control, Mulder chose to continue).

KAMI - Mulder, do you remember if you understood something had happened to you
at this point? Did you have any idea you had been hurt?

MULDER - No, I don't think I was really all there. I don't know if I thought
about anything except waiting for Scully's voice and listening to her when she
talked.

MULDER - When Scully yelled at the man. I remember knowing something was wrong
with me when he was there. I knew something had happened to me because he was
talking to me but I didn't understand him. I was all mixed up...(M. becomes
agitated describing his feelings about this episode).

MULDER -I DON'T KNOW! I don't know what man! The man! The man Scully yelled
at! You know the man...

(I calm Mulder down. It doesn't take long. Then we talk. It is decided that
Scully could probably help clear up the mystery. We ask her to join the
session).

KAMI - Scully, Mulder was telling us that the first time he fully realized he
had been injured was just before he heard you yelling at a man who was in his
room. Can you clear this up for us?

MULDER - Yeah, clue us in Scully. (He has brightened up since Scully came in.
He is grinning).

SCULLY - (a quick laugh) He's talking about when Donnelley tried to get a
statement from him. It was the day after the Brotherhood raid. April 7th.

MULDER - (His excitement makes him animated. He gestures flamboyantly with his
good hand as he talks). I remember it, Scully. I couldn't figure out what was
wrong with me. It was dark. I didn't know who he was. I couldn't really hear
him that well and I didn't understand anything he said to me. It bothered me
because I knew I should have answered him or done something...I, I, I can't
explain it. I knew something was wrong with me. I knew this wasn't a dream. I
knew something had happened to me and I wasn't like me
anymore...I,I...everything was wrong...

(Mulder's excitement turns to tears. Scully hugs him and waves for me to stop
the session).

(Mulder is calmed and given some water. He surprises both of us at how quickly
he is recovering from emotional upsets lately. He claims he wants to go on).

MULDER - I remember when you came in. I could hear you screaming. You told him
get out. I heard you.

SCULLY - (She has grown serious, has tears in her eyes). Mulder, do you
remember that was the first day you spoke? You said my name...(She breaks down,
crying softly into her hands).

MULDER - Turn it off, Kami. (He waves at me frantically as he moves to comfort
Scully). Off, Kami!

I just read Kami's transcript of yesterday's sessions with Mulder. Tell her I
really like the "color commentary." It works for me. I'm an emotional mess, so
excuse this long and rambling report.

He's doing so well. He's becoming Mulder again. A person again. A whole
person, complete. You know, I can't believe I'm telling you this but, I feel
complete now. I've felt so hollow, since his injury. I felt like 'I' would
never feel normal again.

He made Kami stop the tape, because I was crying. Do you know what that means
in his recovery? It's such a big step. Mulder can now comprehend a reality
apart from himself. He was able to recognize the emotions, the feelings of
another person. That's the first step toward truly interacting with others.
With his type of injury, the frontal lobe being involved like it was, I didn't
think empathy was going to be possible.

Let's see. I think I'll try to bring the file up to the point when we met you.
That would be almost three and a half months after Mulder's injury. I see that
was June 1, 1999.

Mulder claims in Interview Session Three that he remembers me talking to him.
I can confirm he was responsive, even that early, because while still in the
ICU, he reacted to the stimuli of me squeezing his left hand by squeezing mine
in return. As I've stated before, at no point was Mulder ever fully non-
responsive.

At three months post injury a complete evaluation was done just prior to
Mulder leaving PVH Neuro Care Unit. At that point he showed classic left brain
injury symptoms --i.e., weakness, paralysis of right extremities, loss of
language skills both passive and responsive. He was totally blind. There was no
sign yet of any vision returning to his remaining right eye. (The surgery of
course came later, as you well know, you made it possible) The hearing loss in
his left ear was total and permanent. His spatial perception was almost non
existent, especially pertaining to his right side. What this all means is that
Mulder was blind, partially deaf, he could not speak, except for monosyllables,
nor could he fully comprehend what was being said to him. He was paralyzed on
his right side, and his brain refused to acknowledge that he had a right side,
so even sitting up was impossible. He could not balance.

The medication had reduced his seizures and he had only had two Grand Mal in
the entire month of May. He was fully conscious and aware of his surroundings.
Emotionally, Mulder was either entirely passive or totally agitated. There was
no middle ground. On his worst days, he was more than a handful. On his best,
he was almost comatose. I knew that his time at the hospital was almost over.
They'd done all they could for him. It was a primary care facility. He needed
extensive rehabilitation, and if I was going to stay with him in Colorado, I
needed a job.

If I had to work, who would take care of him while I was gone? It would be a
fight all the way with the insurance companies to approve home care with the
extent of his disabilities. The most cost efficient route was clearly placing
Mulder in a nursing home. I hated the decision that lurked ahead. I even toyed
with the idea of having my mother come stay with us to help out. But she'd been
ill and Mulder was just too much for one untrained person to handle.

I knew I could find work in the Front Range area and there were several very
nice rehabilitation centers right there in town all waiting to serve Mulder and
his Blue Cross. It didn't make what I was going to have to do any easier.

But I never had to make that decision. Mulder and I received a call from you.
Within the month we'd moved into Sky Watch and Mulder started making his way
back to me.

KAMI - No, Mulder, sorry. She went to your doctor to reup your medication.
Maybe shopping, too. I don't know for sure. So, Mulder, do you remember coming
here...?

KAMI -(Kami is getting a headache, so there is a pause so she can grab
something for the pain). So, what was your answer then?

KAMI - At that point, did you think about your future? Did you realize how
badly you were injured?

MULDER - (He speaks as though explaining something to a child). No, I didn't
think about the future. Yes, I knew I was messed up pretty bad.

MULDER - Yes. (He is proud of this fact and gives Kami a grin that would melt
Saint Mary's glacier in the winter).

I just read Kami's latest transcript. This is what you have to look forward
to. Meet the real Fox Mulder -- true asshole. I love it. I've missed him.

MULDER - (He can blush. He laughs) Start at the top. Okay? (He forces himself
to be serious. It works and his brow wrinkles in a frown). Did they have me on
drugs when I first got here?

MULDER - I guess it's the way I felt. It's like nothing felt real to me. My
life, the world. I'm starting to remember things, but none of them seem real.
Is this going to be real? What we say right now, is this going to seem real
tomorrow, when I remember it? Will I keep feeling like it's all a dream? I
don't like this. Kami, it scares me. Is it the medication I'm on? Or am I just
going to be like this forever? (Mulder is deeply upset, but I leave the tape
running. Maybe he is getting used to it, because he doesn't make me stop it).

KAMI - Mulder, you gotta ask people about these things. Ask the doctors, ask
Scully. Don't wait till we have a session. Ask them when you first think of
them. When they first bother you. You want me to get Scully right now? Maybe
she'll know if it's a side effect of something they have you taking? Let's ask
her if what they give you is supposed to make you feel like this.

MULDER - (a slight smile) No, she reads these things as soon as you type 'em
up, Kami. She'll know. I'm okay. I'll ask her after she reads this. Or maybe
she'll ask me. She's watching out for me. It'll get handled. (He reaches out a
hand to let me know he's calmed down). I'm sorry, Kami. Scully'll take care of
everything. Now that she knows.

KAMI - Yeah, Scully'll take care of it. (pause) She's more than your partner,
huh? I mean you two more than just worked together?

(Machine off/restart...Dad, I really didn't mean to erase that part, all he
said was he didn't understand what I meant. I promise, I won't get personal
like this anymore).

KAMI - Mulder, what I need you to do is try to tell me what you remember of
your stay here so far.

MULDER - Yeah, I know your hair's light. It looks like silver, Kami. I bet you
have lots of boyfriends.

KAMI - Yeah, you see them hanging around here all the time, right? (Kami
sounds bitter. Ignore her, okay?) We gotta get back to the interview, Mulder.
If I don't get at least some of what Dad wants, he'll kill me.

MULDER - Sorry, Kami. I warned you. I still don't focus too well. (pause)
Great. Give me a hand here. Get me started.

KAMI - Mulder, you remember Dad sent you to Denver? He'd set up surgery for
your right eye. For the doctors to remove some bone fragments that they'd
missed. You stayed a week. Do you remember?

MULDER - No, not really. I know it happened and I know I had the surgery to
help me get some sight back. But really, the first time I think I realized I
could see anything again was your birthday party. Isn't that weird? I couldn't
see at all at first. Then I had the surgery and it made it so I could at least
see shapes and light and all, but it didn't register with me that anything had
changed. They did this light thing at the hospital but I'd noticed lights
before the surgery. Maybe I followed it better so they thought I knew I was
seeing. I don't know. I was just so out of it, it didn't sink in that I was
seeing. I think it's the drugs, Kami. They make me feel dull, like I'm just
going through the motions. Like I'm not really even alive. Does that make
sense? I don't know if I'm explaining it right.

MULDER - Good. I do remember little pieces of some things, like your birthday.
You were dancing with somebody. Scully was sitting beside me, helping me eat
some cake. I was still in the chair then. I saw the sunshine on your hair. I
don't know, it just woke me up. I knew I'd just seen sunlight shine on a
person's hair. I remembered it from before. So I knew I was seeing again. I
looked over and saw Scully. I knew it was her. I remembered. I saw her
different. But I knew it was her.

I wanted to know who you were. I needed to put a name to what I could see, so
I asked Scully. It surprised her. She told me, "Mulder, that's Kami. You know
Kami, don't you?" She didn't know what had happened. She didn't realize I
really didn't see her before. That was how long after the surgery? What, almost
2 months and that's the first time I understood that I was really seeing again.

MULDER - But I don't think my mind was letting it sink in 'til then. I started
to remember things more after that. I don't know if I was walking any before
then. I guess I had to have been, in therapy. But I remember, I started with
the walker about a week later. Scully took me out to the back yard and I looked
around. I was outside again seeing the trees and all.

Do people actually believe this is a Bed and Breakfast? I mean, who would come
all the way out here to stay? There's nothing out here. It's in the middle of a
cow pasture, for God sakes.

KAMI- (laughing) Dad's family has been here forever. People in town have
always thought the Wagner's were weird. The Wagner's owned almost all of North
Colorado. At least they did back during the cattle baron days. I think everyone
believes Dad is the Colorado Howard Hughes. So nobody has really even
questioned what Sky Watch is. They figure if S.A. Wagner wants to build a ranch
and call it a bed and breakfast that never has any customers, well, it's his
money. He can call it whatever he wants to.

KAMI - Just ask him to show you the basement. (pause) Let me see, what's next?
(pause) Oh, Mulder, this isn't a question about what you remember. Dad would
like to know how you feel about the surgery next month.

KAMI - Ahh... (Pause, thanks, Dad. Didn't you realize he might not remember
this?) You're supposed to have reconstructive surgery on your eye and nose next
month, in Denver, Mulder.

MULDER - Oh-h (Pause. His hand actually went up to touch the damaged side,
Dad. He'd forgotten about that part of his injuries. Did you ever think we
might have talked to him first? Kind of reminding him gently?) Can we stop now?

Sorry I didn't get this written up for you sooner. I've just been so busy. I
have taken care of two of the three problems that showed up on transcript and I
have an idea on how to solve the third.

First, I talked to Mulder about his medication. I discovered that since the
middle of November, almost six weeks now, he has been taking one fewer of each
of his pills. I fussed at him and explained that is not how we adjust dosages.
I talked to his doctor and Raposa said leave it. Mulder IS more lucid now. He
has been since he pulled this stunt. We WERE over dosing him. I told Mulder
we'd let it stay this way. He wants me to bring down the dosage even more. I
reminded him how dangerous his seizures are and how he feels afterwards. Then
we talked about how he has only been seizure free for two months. I suggested
working on finding a new dosage after his surgery.

That brought up the second problem. With his sight the way it has been, and
with much of his awareness just now returning, I don't think he had really
dwelled on his physical appearance. I remember him discovering the damage the
bullet had done in the hospital. The only response he made upon touching the
scars and ruined tissue was a faint grimace. That's all the attention I'd
noticed him giving his disfigurement. But he has begun paying attention the
last two days. I caught him trying to see his reflection in the mirror that
first night. Since then when he thinks no one is watching, he is touching the
scars, exploring what happened. He is distressed over the discoveries he has
made.

Before this happened, Mulder was not narcissistic about his looks, but I would
definitely say he had a healthy, self-assurance that he was a good-looking man.
Sadly, I don't think we've seen the worst of his heartache about this matter. I
hope the surgery helps. He has been protected here from peoples, reactions -
stares, rude comments, etc. We wouldn't want him to hide here at Sky Watch
forever. More on this later.

So we come to the final problem. I think I have a way to make sure we don't
have a repeat of the "Erased Tape" matter. A camcorder. Let the two of them
continue the interviews. Mulder and Kami, while not following your script, are
very productive. Just have her transcribe from the video. And we will tell them
both, no machine off. No stops, once they start.

Mr. Wagner, I do think it's just a crush. Fox Mulder is an honorable man, even
with all that has happened to him. He'd never do or say anything to hurt her.

Mulder told me what happened between you two. Don't worry, your Dad will never
find out from me. I think you should tell him though. You know he suspects that
you erased the tape to protect Mulder? I'm not mad, Kami, but I think you
should put your father's mind at ease that you are perfectly safe with Mulder.
Don't you?

I'm not mad at you. Your asking Mulder whether or not we had ever had sex,
doesn't bother me. We worked together for a long time. I think everyone at the
bureau was wondering the same thing. I know you were suprised he wouldn't have
sex with you. I think he sensed it was a game with you, or a challenge. Mulder,
even with his problems, still knows that you don't play games with your heart.
It hurts too much to lose.

Kami, some things go deeper than the physical. I think there's a certain bond
we only find with one or two people in our lives. And that's if we're lucky. If
you wait until you find someone with whom you can make that special connection,
everything, even sex is better. Trust me, I know.

I understand how you feel about Mulder, though. I've known the man for seven
years. There's something special about him that defies explanation. Believe it
or not, I am human. I completely understand what you're going through.

He's fragile now, Kami. Be his friend. Love him. But don't play the games. Men
are often easy to manipulate. Mulder was susceptible to feminine wiles, even
before his injuries. But, I know you're above things like that. You're too
mature to want a toy. And he's too good a person to be treated like one.
Especially now, Kami. Don't do this to him. He trusts you.

Well, I'm glad to see KAMIGATE worked out fine for all concerned. You've got a
wonderful child there Mr. Wagner. You should be very proud.

Mulder's appointment with Dr. Raposa went great. We're leaving the dosages as
they are and still no seizures. He is doing well in all phases of his therapy.
His walking has improved. He shuffles less and seems more sure of his balance.
He's having less trouble with the aphasia. He's more able to modulate his tone,
to compensate for the hearing loss. The biggest miracle is in his memory and
cognitive skills. It almost frightens me. I've been afraid to believe that
he'd make it all the way back, but at the rate he's progressing that just might
happen. He has already surpassed my hopes.

The bad news is I am seeing signs of depression. I've tried to talk to him, to
help him to bring out the pain he feels over all he has lost, over what has
happened to him. But he either can't or won't express what's inside. I'm
frightened that the more aware he becomes, the more he'll feel the part that
has been taken from him. I watched Mulder change, in the blink of an eye, from
the man/child who was left after his betrayal, to the person I know and love,
and then back again.

I know, as a doctor, the part of the brain that was most damaged was what we
believe to be the seat of human emotion. I've seen patients who were
lobotomized, witnessed the soulless creatures that are made by that surgery.
When this first happened, it was my greatest fear that Mulder would be left
like that. Thank God, it didn't happen. He surprised us all. He proved the
doctors wrong.

But I can't help wondering, where do we go from here, Mr. Wagner? He wasn't
supposed to make it back this far. I don't know what lies ahead and it worries
me. Do you know? Do you have the answer, there in your files?

MULDER - I guess that means you did. How's the tummy? Want some breakfast,
Kami, eggs, bacon?

KAMI - Look if I call you an asshole, I'M the one in trouble, so shut up. We
can't even turn the camera off...

(Mulder has stumbled to the library door but I always lock it to keep people
out while we are working. He doesn't know this and he is struggling to open it.
He is panicked).

KAMI - Mulder, wait I'll get it open for you. No, Mulder, what's wrong?
Mulder, Just a minute let me undo the lock. Please, just let me get by...

(Mulder will not let Kami undo the door. He doesn't hear her. He has a seizure).

END SESSION (Why do you have to have the video of this too, Dad?) - one of the
other subjects in your fucking files -
-KWW-

What happened today is my fault. Not your father's. Certainly not yours. I
take the entire blame. I'm the one who suggested the camcorder. I never asked
him how he felt about being filmed. It was me.

You did great. You handled everything like a pro. He came through it fine. The
blood was from hitting his nose on the carpet. He'll be up and around tomorrow.
He wants to make sure you're okay, Kami. He feels bad about scaring you. If you
feel up to it, could you drop by and let him know you survived okay? Thanks.

MULDER - Kami, I talk -- you type. (he laughs). On my own this time. Scully
set it up. Told me what we were supposed to cover that last time. (pause) I'm
sorry, Kami, about what happened. I panicked. I just didn't want to be taped.
I, I...Yeah. (pause) I, I don't know what I look like. I guess I shouldn't care
but... I mean, shit... ( Mulder stops, and it's a good two minutes before he
speaks again).

(Enormous sigh) Sometimes, I gotta work at telling myself there's a reason I
made it through this. Sometimes, I don't think I should have. That it might
have been better for everyone if I hadn't. I feel like the fact that I'm still
here is some big, practical joke. So, I keep hanging around, waiting for the
punch line.

Then I start thinking about you and your Dad, and Scully. It's like you all
know something I don't know. You all know why I'm still here. Why I made it
through. Like there was a reason I didn't die out there in that field, and if I
don't keep trying, I'm gonna let you down. I think I've let too many people
down in my life. So maybe this is how I pay all that back. You think? (Mulder
stops and rubs a hand over his face. It lingers a second on his ruined side and
he gives another sigh that is almost a sob).

(This is said low, more to himself than the camera). Okay, I can do this. (He
lifts his head) Used to have a pretty good memory. Maybe there's enough left up
there so I can do this, huh?

(clears throat) First question, what is man's place in the universe? (laughs)
Nope, sorry. I'm joking. I just can't believe I have anything anyone would want
to hear. Ha, (laughs again) I spent the last seven years trying to find the
truth and be heard and now I say that.

Back on track, Mulder. Mr. Wagner wants to know how I feel about the surgery
tomorrow. Okay. Ummm. I don't really know how bad I look but if there is some
way to repair some of what was done, well, I'm for it. (laughs) Is that good
enough? Can I maybe get a nose like Brad Pitt? Or who's that new one, Leonardo
de... not Vinci... Caprio? Yeah. I gotta figure out a new career for myself. I
might as well try teen idol, huh? (There's a very long pause. Mulder has his
head down, thinking. Suddenly he looks up, almost like he has heard someone
call. At first you can read surprise in his face, but then there's a quick
flicker of hurt which turns almost instantly into a dark scowl of anger).

I do have some questions of my own, if anybody really cares. I guess not. I
don't hear anybody saying anything.

First off. Why are you so interested in us, Mr. Wagner? It's not like we have
access to any high level information. From what I hear, we probably should've
come to you -- years ago. It would have saved Scully and I a hell of a lot of
time and trouble. I understand you have the secrets to the universe in your
basement. And you're slick. We had no idea about you and your little set up
here. As far as I know, neither do the gunman... or the FBI. Nobody knows. Ever
think of that Scully?

Have you ever wondered why they went to all the trouble of setting me up? Why
me. Because, after seven years of searching and never finding shit, THEY...see
I don't even know who THEY are...THEY are so worried about me, THEY decide THEY
need to blow half my fucking brains out. But then Mr. Wagner here, who's just
sitting in his little cow pasture, with his fucking mystery files in the
basement...is allowed to continue his "search for the truth." Now, I gotta
admit I'm one dangerous puppy, but doesn't that seem just a little odd to you
Scully? DOESN'T IT?

(At this point Mulder gets up from his chair and totally wrecks the camera.
And the library. And we get to see it all, live on tape).

"...you seemed to be resting comfortably, all vitals checked out, when you
suddenly sat straight up. I turned and rushed over. You stopped me. Just by
looking at me. I swear on all that's holy, it happened. Then you started
babbling, it wasn't any language I'd ever heard. I don't know what it was. But
you were looking right at me. Through the bandages, I knew you could see me...

Well, I finally have time to write. I think, because of what happened the last
two times, I'll do any interviews in the foreseeable future. I don't mind Kami
being there, and I'm sure Mulder would want her, but you know how he has been.
This last week has been easier. My mom has that effect on him. Isn't she great?
Thank you for bringing her out. It was just what I needed.

Okay. Catch up time. Got my notes, the charts, everything right here. I'll try
to connect the dots. Looks like the reconstructive surgery -- here we go again -
-surpassed all expectations. Doctor Carter is an odd one but he's a genius. An
artist. His skill in replacing the bridge of his nose and eye socket was
unbelievable. Scarring looks minimal. I'm glad Mulder decided to go with the
patch. It makes him look rakish. He has always had some kinda pirate fixation.
Go figure.

A note on the post op episode. Still don't know what caused it. It appears it
was a onetime thing. Still frightening, though. That nurse quit, did you know
that? Was it a drug interaction? Will we ever know? His blood chemistry is back
to normal. And he's calm again, most of the time. As I said, my Mom is a life
saver. She knows just how to handle him. Just what to say. He worships her. I
hope she'll stay till at least after my birthday.

One thing does bother me. Mulder has started dreaming again. He woke me last
night crying out in his sleep, so it must have been a nightmare. I tried to
question him about it, but he says he didn't remember any of it. I don't really
know why it troubles me so much except that his dreams are still nightmares.
I'd hoped since he has had to live through the nightmare of what happened to
him, if he ever did get a chance to dream again, they would be different now.
It just doesn't seem fair, he's finally making his way out of one place of
horror where his mind had him trapped only to stumble back into his old land of
night terrors.

By the way, before I close. Has Mulder talked to you? He wanted to know if he
could trouble you with getting him some information.I don't really know what
has triggered his curiosity except that the blindness has him wondering if he
could be developing a sixth sense to compensate for his loss of sight. Typical
Mulder. Kami and I have read him some material from the internet, but it seems
to be all hype. Mulder calls it "Fucking yuppie, crystal wearing New Age
garbage." The man does have a way with words. He says he needs audio tapes on
Edgar Cayce, Micheal Cremo and, believe it or not, the Book of Mormon. Hey,
it'll give him something to do.

It's Wednesday, February 2, 2000. Maggie Scully got me this, a get well gift.
I think I'll use it to have someone to talk to. To keep my thoughts together.
I'm glad they cut down on my meds...I, ah...I've halved the dosage again.
Started two weeks ago. Everything seems to be fine. I'm starting to think maybe
she wants me to be a zombie. I'm taking half of what she wants me to, and I
haven't had a seizure since January first. What does that tell me? She knows
how that shit makes me feel. Like I'm in ozone. Like I'm not real. I think she
wants me drugged, so she can handle me. God, do I blame her? Shit. Shit. I was
a pain in the ass before, what am I now? Why has she done all this for me?
Why...my own mother won't deal with me. She called last month to tell me why
she still couldn't come see me.

Scully just might be the only person I trust. I don't know if I trust her now.
No, I do. She just thinks she's doing it for me. All for me. She does it all
for me. I know she does.

Wednesday, February 2, 2000. Great Day. Scully's mom got me this. A get well
gift. Scully loves her being here. She looks a lot better, not so tired. Scully
talked to Mr. Wagner. He's getting me some audio tapes he has on Cayce readings
and he has the entire Book of Mormon on tape. I'm gonna give it a listen when I
get done here. I never really gave it much thought before. The Book of Mormon.
Great story, but not my type of religion. Not too big on choirs. But I keep
having flashes of something I remember reading in there.

I'm going to use this for notes and a kind of diary. Let Mr. Wagner have some
of them, too. For his files. Hey, Maggie. Aren't I supposed to have two blank
tapes with this?

Dana Scully: (Barely audible) Mulder, you did when you opened it this morning.
What'd ya do with them?

If I knew that would I be asking your mother. (lower) Did I put them up? What...

Margaret Scully: Don't worry 'bout it Fox, I'm always putting stuff up and
forgetting where I put it. Don't worry. okay?

Sure, thanks Maggie. Shit, now I forgot what I was talking about. Ohh,
yeah...The Book of Mormon. I read it first when I was a kid. Had a friend who
was LDS. I used to go over to his house after school. It was great. They had
like 20 kids. Everybody loved each other. It was like a sitcom. His older
brother gave The Book of Mormon to me. Hard going but it was pretty
fascinating. Then my Dad caught me with it. Didn't sit to well with
him...neither did I after he got done.

It's February 22, 2000. Tomorrow is Scully's birthday. Have to figure out
something for her (laughs). I can remember her birthday, now after I get shot
in the head, yet before, I always missed it. I'm supposed to be brain damaged
now, so, what was my excuse before, stupidity? It reminds me of that movie,
"Regarding Henry". Proof positive that a bullet to the brain can make even a
lawyer a nice guy. I know several people at the bureau I'd like to try this
theory on.

Holy shit. Damn, just a minute. Crap, that hurts. Feels like a knife right in
the middle of my forehead. You know, science doesn't know why we have
headaches. Maybe they should check Mr. Wagner's basement. He has the answer to
every thing else down there, why not that?

I wonder if I should show Scully how to shoot baskets this year. A little one
on one. Dream on Mulder. It would be a case of the blind leading the blind.

Oh, today's the anniversary of my execution. Maybe I oughta get Scully to take
me up to the field to celebrate. She probably wants to finish the job, then
she could get a life. You're such a bastard, Mulder. Look at all you have to
be thankful for.

It was such a wonderful day today. I took Mulder with me into Fort Collins to
do a little shopping. Nothing big. Just a stop at the grocery store and we
poked our nose in at Long's Drug . The excursion went great. I was truly
suprised, because Mulder's mood had been so foul this morning. He finally
confessed he had a headache. I gave him a couple of Tylenol and after he
rested a bit, he was fine. I was going on a supply run and suprised him by
asking him to come along. HE suprised me by saying yes. It was his first time
out in the public eye. Doctor visits don't count. He handled everything
beautifully. It had to have been a culture shock after this long year of
seclusion.

I guess it was just something he hadn't had to think about in so long, but he
almost cried when I handed him his old Visa.I knew that he'd been wanting to
get me something for my birthday tomorrow. Now, that's sort of hard to do with

me right there, but he struck up a conversation with a sales girl and I
believe she helped him out. They had made their decision and she was about to
ring up his purchase when Mulder realized -- there was nothing in his pockets.
It's been a year since he's needed to carry his wallet. I saw his face fall.
That's when I remembered I had his card. I walked up behind him and slipped it
into his hand. He didn't smile 'til the girl called him by name. He must have
thought it was my card I'd given him. You know how long it had been since I've
seen Fox Mulder grin like that? He even treated me to lunch at "The Back
Porch." This has been the best day I've had in, well, at least a year.

You do know it happened a year ago today. I think Mulder knows, too. We didn't
talk about it. I'm trying not to think about it. Still the memory of the way
he was that first night in the ICU... No, I'm not going to do this. Just look
at him now. Things are looking up!

Today is February 22, 2000 and I feel alive for the first time in a year. Got
up late and right off the bat Scully asked if I wanted to go with her to town.
I couldn't believe it; no one has asked me before. I jumped at the chance.
Gotta admit I had a few qualms when we first got out in public. I mean, I
still don't know what I really look like. I didn't hear any screaming, and
didn't notice that people stopped and stared, so I guess it's not too bad.

Went to a drug store and picked up some tapes for this damn thing. I don't
know what keeps happening to them. I must just put them up and forget where I
put them. So much for my eidetic memory. I asked the girl who works there what
type I needed, and it hit me that I might see if she could help me get
something for Scully's birthday tomorrow. She said "sure", so we picked her
out a little something. I got her a Celtic bracelet, a design called the
Guardian Knot. It means forever.

That's when I remembered, I wasn't carrying any money. I haven't been anywhere
that I've needed it. I don't even know where my wallet is. Thank God, Scully
was there. I hope she didn't see the gift, but I'm glad she was there. She
saved my ass again. She slipped me a credit card, and I handed it to the girl.
I thought it was Scully's card. I was relieved that I could pay for my
purchase, and I knew I could just have her reimburse herself out of my
disability check, but I hated making her pay for her own present. But what
choice did I have? I gave the girl the card, she rang everything up then said,
"Thank you, Mr. Mulder."

That floored me. It was my card. One that I had before. A scene from a movie
I'd seen somewhere, sometime, popped into my head. I think it was with Steve
Martin, because I can picture him running down the street yelling "I am
somebody!" That's exactly how I felt standing there. It made me feel...normal.
Like I'm a real person again. Finally. I'm getting a life. I have money. So, I
treated Scully to lunch. I can't believe how good I feel.

I gave her gift to her tonight...wait a minute. O.k. Today is February 23,
2000. Scully's birthday. I gave her the gift. She cried. I think she liked it.

I am furious. You won't believe it. I can't believe it. No, I do. I learned
how things were years ago. Why doesn't this surprise me? Lies. Always lies
upon lies. In the Denver Post, The Rocky Mountain News, The Fort Collins
Coloradian. Jesus Christ! I can't believe they did this to him. There wasn't
any reason. The raid on the Brotherhood went down without a hitch. There
wasn't any need for a cover-up. There wasn't any public outcry. This wasn't
like Waco, for God's sake. They did it just to put another nail in his coffin.
That's all it is, plain and simple.

Why are they afraid of him now? He can't hurt them anymore. Haven't they done
enough to him? Mr. Wagner, you have to help me. We have to bring them down.
You have the resources. Isn't this why you hired me? To find the proof? We
can't let them get away with this. Please, help me bring the sons of bitches
down.

Today is February 28, 200...no, it's February 29, 2000. I have to tell her
about my dream. I know what's happening now. I've stopped all my medication. I
don't need it anymore. It makes me so I can't think. It makes it so the change
can't happen. I want it to come! God, it's all so clear. I am Adam. I saw
myself, in my dream, and I am Adam, the first. I've found the passages I
needed. I listened to the Bible last night. Also Cayce's readings. Why didn't
I ever see this before? It all ties in so perfectly. It's all connected. Each
truth leads into the next. It's all so clear, if you open your mind. I want to
tell her what it all means, but she won't believe me. I know she won't.

She didn't believe me before. Now, she'll just think it's brain damage. This
is a test. This happened to me, everything that was taken away, was my trial
in the wilderness. You wander in the wasteland and you are given visions. They
lead you to your destiny. I was blinded so I could see. But no one will
believe me.

"Now Jesus himself had pointed out that a prophet has no honor in his own
country." That is so true.

Nobody will listen to me. Wait. Mr. Wagner, I'll talk to him. I won't tell him
everything. I won't tell how I found out about the power. But I'll show him
the sign. He'll have to believe the sign, when he sees it.

Scully wouldn't. She would find some way to explain it. If I went to her and
showed her how the blood stops flowing and the skin closes, she still wouldn't
believe. I know her.

She is upset now. She has been all day. She thinks I don't know what happened.
I know. I know they set me up. I know they put the blame on me. It doesn't
matter. That was just part of the plan. The change.

SCULLY - Mulder, it has been a long time since we've dealt with this. I've
been going through the transcript and I see there's one question that never
really got asked...

MULDER - (Interrupts Scully. She doesn't see it but he looks really tired, or
maybe it's pain). What? We missed a question? I don't believe it?

SCULLY - (She looks tired, too. She continues her thoughts). Mulder, do you
believe you were set up that day out in the field near Red Feather? Do YOU
think this was all just a plot to get rid of you?

MULDER - (His face twists with irritation, he winces and rubs at his patch).
Scully, what does all this matter any more?

SCULLY - (His answer irritates her. All this matters to her. It matters very
much to her). Well, we just need to know your thoughts on what happened. You
know what came down afterward, don't you, after you were shot? You heard how
they say the ATF stepped in and saved the day. Mulder, don't you understand,
they're making you a fall guy. They're burying you.

NOW, there's no record that you were even assigned to go undercover. NOW,
Skinner's gone, and Kersh is saying that your being with the Brotherhood is
one of your insubordinate stunts. Mulder, in the past year, their whole story
has changed. They have you playing the crazy, loose cannon who almost blew
their whole undercover operation. There's no mention of Aramis. You were
supposed to have gone in there, against orders, like you thought you were the
Lone Ranger. They say it was lucky you were so sloppy. They say it was good
that the Brotherhood found out about you and took you out, or you would have
blown the whole operation.

SCULLY - (She doesn't see it yet, she hasn't noticed the look on his face.
he's smiling). What the fuck are you talking about, Mulder? They took your
life away! Don't you see? Can't you understand?

MULDER - You don't understand, Scully. None of it matters anymore. They can't
hurt me now. Scully, I've changed. (Mulder gets to his feet. For some reason
Scully backs away. It must be because she has finally noticed his smile). I
need to show you something.

SCULLY - (She is no longer angry. She is now frightened. She doesn't know why,
so her brow is puckered with a puzzled frown, but she is afraid). What,
Mulder? What's wrong?

MULDER - Don't worry, Scully. Listen, we have to leave here. We need to find
the answers. I know where they are and Mr. Wagner's going to help us. He
promised to help after I showed him what I can do. Wait, just let me show you.
(He walks over to Dad's desk. His back is to the camera and Scully).

SCULLY - (Her voice is a thin, fearful whisper). Show me what, Mulder?...(She
walks toward him. Louder). Show me what, Mulder?

MULDER - (He turns. He is facing her and the camera. He has a pair of scissors
in his hand. Scully moves closer). Watch. I have the power now, Scully.
(Mulder places his right hand on the desk and stabs the point of the scissors
through the middle of it. Scully screams. Mulder pulls out the weapon and
shows her the wound as she makes it to his side). Now watch. (Scully is
stunned speechless. Mulder's hand was bleeding. Now it has stopped).

MULDER - The skin will close. I make it close, Scully. See... (He stops
suddenly, there's a puzzled expression on his face. He is dazed. He looks
down, concentrating on the wound. He knows that something has gone wrong. His
face twists). No... (Mulder collapses to the ground. He is having a grand mal
seizure. Scully checks to make sure he won't hurt himself, then runs to unlock
the door, calling for help. Kami and Mrs. Scully run in the room. The two
women do what they can for Mulder while Kami turns off the camera. We've seen
enough).

END SESSION
-KWW-(What is happening to him, Dad? He said he showed you, told you. What is
going on?)

So, I finally succumb to adding to the chronicle. Will I show this to Wagner?
Ask me tomorrow. I'm too angry at him today. No, better not ask me for a
while. I think I'm going to hold a grudge on this one. This is not really
about being angry, though. This is about not being able to trust that he has
Mulder's best interest at heart. What makes it hard, though, is I'm going to
have to start trusting him again sooner or later, aren't I? If I don't, then
how can we stay here? If we can't stay here, where can we go? WE. Yes, it's
still we. But, as much as I hate admitting it, Mulder scares me now. Why can I
accept him with a damaged body, even a damaged brain and yet, I want to run,
because I now find out his soul has been damaged.

Why didn't Wagner tell me about his and Mulder's little talk? Wagner actually
believes him. He said he saw Mulder heal himself with his mind. It makes me
ill to think that he could sit and watch a disturbed person cut themself just
so he could discover if they truly had special powers. Yet that's exactly what
Wagner did. He watched Mulder slice open his thumb just to prove a point.

But it did heal. I just looked and there is a faint, red, scar that wasn't
there before. I know those hands like my own. I know each line, each mark and
that thin etching on his left thumb is new. New from my birthday. A scant six
days ago I kissed that thumb. He had given me my gift. I cried. His hand
touched my cheek. I turned into it. And I touched that digit to my mouth.
There was no cut or scar that night. And no hurt since could have healed so
completely. Where did it come from? Can he heal himself? What has happened to
him? I'm frightened.

Well, they've run the gamut of tests. Now they can't make up their minds. Left
brain injury -- a schizophrenia type mental illness or congenital right brain
defect -- bi-polar manic depressive. Should they flip a coin? One doctor
claims we should be treating him for both. Mulder is relatively lucid right
now. Why? Was there a miracle cure? No, he is back on his medication. It is as
simple as that. Mulder has finally admitted he hasn't been taking any of them.
Not a single one. His emotions are still unstable. They will be until he can
get the medication back into his system.

We have switched him from Zyprexia, which was causing him to suffer that
drugged feeling, to Resperdal. I worry about that though, because there is an
increased chance for seizures. Yet, if he rebels again and stops taking all
his medication, he'll have seizures anyway. So it's kind of a damned if you
do, damned if you don't, proposition. Resperdal has been seen to help more
with the delusion factors of dementias so I'm pushing for it.

Right now, Mulder is in rare form. One of the early side effects of this new
drug is dizziness. It should fade, but he cannot even make it to the bathroom
by himself, without toppling over. His weak side causes him balance problems,
in the first place, so he is covered from head to toe with bruises, bumps and
scrapes. We've tried to insist that he use a wheelchair, just 'til the
vertigo passes, but in his mind, that would be a catastrophe. So he tries to
walk and since he refuses to wait for assistance, a good bit of the day is
spent picking him up off the floor. I suggested a Foley catheter -- if looks
could kill I would be dead right now.

So far, there have been no more delusion episodes. Mulder absolutely refuses
to talk to me about what happened. He won't even discuss what he remembers
about what happened with his therapist. I suspect he does have some memory of
what he did to himself, because he has not asked question one about the wound
in his hand. So he must know how it happened.

I am not one of his favorite people right now, because I have insisted he stay
in the hospital until his condition is stable in regards to his medications.
As you know, he hates hospitals and is hell on wheels.

I don't know what date it is. If I had thought of it, I would have drawn chalk
marks on the wall, like in the old prison movies. That's exactly how I feel,
like I'm in prison. The warden has left for the afternoon. Her mother is
flying home today. So, I at least have a few minutes to myself.

Okay, it was a crazy thing to do, cutting off my meds like I did. My problem
is, I've got no way to pick and choose which one to stop. I don't know if they
have the PDR on audio tape, but I doubt anyone would allow me access to it if
they did. I hate this! I can't walk without falling over, I can't see 'cause
of the mood lighting in this place, and the latest symptom from their frigging
pharmaceutical roulette is chronic dryness of the mouth. I am constantly
licking my lips. I don't have any control over it. My mouth has actually
started bleeding a few times. The ointment they put on to help with the
chapping tastes like shit. I just keep licking it off anyway, so I don't even
know why they bother putting it on.

This is fucking crazy! When is this all going to end? I feel like I'm being
punished.

Maybe I am. I know I did wrong, cutting my medication off. Scully tells me one
of the drugs I was taking was to keep my heart rate stabilized. I could have
stroked out.

It's just that I gotta get out of here. I AM going crazy in here. I need to
talk to Wagner. But how? He never comes to visit when I've been in the
hospital. I don't think he ever leaves Sky Watch. If you wanna know the truth,
HE should be up here, except he should be on the psyche ward. Well, at least
that part has been good. They didn't admit me to the psyche ward. I'm on neuro
again. I just have to go down there twice a day for therapy.

I gotta get out of here. Scully wants me to stay 'til I've leveled out with my
meds. That proves SHE'S crazy, too. I talked to Dr. Raposa and it could take
six weeks before they know if all those pills are working right. I HATE THIS!

I know there's something I gotta do. I keep having that dream, where I talk to
Adam. But it's me. I'm talking to someone who looks like me. Adam tells me
about the powers. He says they're here in my mind. They're supposed to be in
everyone's mind, but you have to want to find them. I guess I needed to find
them because I got hurt. It's like I knew I could use them to heal myself. It
explains a lot. I should have been dead or at least almost brain dead after
what happened. I know the powers are real. I had Wagner convinced I have them.
I finally told him about talking to myself in the dream, and finding that my
injury has given me special powers.

God, it does sound pretty crazy. But I'm not crazy. I know the dream is
symbolic. I know it's my subconscious speaking, but something really IS
happening to me. I've changed. Maybe it's because I'm having to use a part of
my brain I never used before. When I cut myself and showed Wagner, he believed
me. I DID heal myself. There IS something going on. The key is the ruins.
That's why I have to go there. If I go there, will I become this Adam? Is this
the change that is coming? I can't figure out what it all means. But I know I
have to go.

I have to play it cool though. I gotta figure out how to convince Scully.
Wagner would pay for us to go there. I know he would. If I could just show her
how I've changed without scaring her. How can I show her?

God, I hate this! I can't think now. It's the medicine again. I know it. I
hate this. But, I'll play the game. I'll play HER game. I have to get out of
here. I have to go to Mexico. Then I'll know what it is that's happening to
me. I'll know the answers.

For two weeks, life was hell. But I think we finally have a handle on Mulder's
treatment. Okay, I know, I thought that before, but now it's been two weeks
and his improvement is marked. The addition of Prozac to his Risperdal seems
to be the magic formula. No signs of lethargy, he's not a zombie. No
depression, no agitation, no delusions, no paranoia (are we really talking
about FOX Mulder here?) no headaches. He seems well. Truly well.

We go back to Sky Watch next week. I don't know what will come next. I've lost
my trust in our benefactor. It's funny, I rarely speak to Wagner, but it
appears that the man has become Mulder's new best friend. I can't believe it.
Kami says the last time her father left Sky Watch was in 1997. That was to
have gall bladder surgery. If they could have used the kitchen table, the
eccentric recluse would have probably had it done there.

Yet he has visited Mulder every day this past week. I have to admit it makes
me nervous, but Mulder himself has reassured me that their meetings are only
because he is now researching the illnesses they've diagnosed in him. I'll
just keep my eyes open and watch him. Really good Dana, who's paranoid now?

How many years was Mulder bi-polar? The CT scan shows that he just might have
been born this way. I've known him for over 7 years and I knew he suffered
from depression at times. I knew he bordered on being hyperactive. He always
suffered from insomnia. At times he ate enough to choke a horse. At others, I
couldn't get him to eat at all. And mood swings, oh brother. Why didn't I ever
see it? Why didn't the doctors he went to for psyche evaluations ever see it?
Did they pass the signs by because he was "Spooky" Mulder and his eccentric
reputation preceded him?

These last 3 months, we leaned heavily on treating him for schizophrenia
because of the damage he suffered to the left brain and the way dementia
presented itself. The Risperdal will continue to keep those symptoms in check
and now, Prozac will help the depression. I don't expect a miracle cure. I
know he'll always have some "bad" days. But God, what an improvement.

Today is April 1 and I have been sprung. I'm actually outside, in the fresh
air. It's great. Even if it smells like cow shit out here, it's better than
the smell of a hospital. I'm actually alone out in the back yard. They're
probably watching me from the window, but I don't care. That sounds really
paranoid, huh? Now that's even worse. I'm paranoid about sounding paranoid.
Fuck it! I feel great.

I'm not experiencing any side effects from the meds. Of course, they've got me
on about 20 pills. It's hilarious. They give me one pill, which causes a side
effect, so they give me another pill to take care of the side effect. But that
pill causes a different side effect. And they call me crazy.

I don't care, I finally feel normal. I finally feel like a normal person.
Sure, okay, so I'm blind in one eye, can't see out of the other. And you'd
better talk to me in my right ear cause I'm totally deaf in the left. I walk
with a limp that a drunken sailor would envy and my right arm is so weak, I
can't brush my teeth with it but, hell, that IS normal for me.

I have plans tonight. Mr. Wagner is going to help me. He's going to finance
our trip to Mexico. We have it planned for late August. He wants a study done
of the pyramids and ruins down there. And he knows I'm just the guy to do it.
The new age, bullshit claims, are secondary. I've told him there are secrets
to be found down there at these sites and Wagner believes in me. It's great.
I'm back to work. It's an X-File. No, maybe we should call it a Wagner File.
It doesn't matter.

I keep dreaming of these ruins. What the dreams mean, well, I'm lucid enough
now to not even try to guess. I just know I have to find out why I keep having
them. I'm hoping that going down there will trigger my subconscious and maybe
I'll discover why I am fixating on all this. I know Scully thinks it's the
tapes I've been listening to. Funny thing is, the dreams made me want to
listen to the tapes, not the other way around.

Tonight I'll tell Kami about the trip. That way we'll all just gang up on
Scully and convince her she needs a vacation. And Scully knows -- I'll want to
go, because I need Scully. I always have. I think we can talk her into it.
Maybe we'll even offer to take Kami. We'll just get her out of the house, too.
I'll explain to Scully that it's a working vacation. She and Kami can go
stroll down the Street of the Dead. Very educational. I'll gather information
for Wagner's files. Maybe we'll stop off in Cancun. Scully would love it.
I don't think we ever vacationed together. It'll be first class all the way
and give us
a chance to earn our keep. Well, I've convinced myself. Now, I have to
convince my partner. Trouble is, she worries too much. After all, what could
happen?

How many times in my life am I going to have to search for a reason to go on?
Skinner tells me I still have a purpose. I should take up where Wagner left
off. His files are all here. The ranch is gone, but the files are here.
Scully's not here. Wagner's gone. Dead. Kami. God, who's going to transcribe
this tape for me? Oh, yeah, Skinner. He said he would do it. God, I'm so tired.
We've nothing for pain, or my seizures. That's why Skinner won't let me up. He
doesn't want me throwing another fit.

Shut up, Mulder. You ungrateful shit. Skinner saved your fucking life, for God
sakes. And don't let him hear you talking to yourself. Why not? He already
knows I'm crazy. Oh, God, am I going crazy again? I think I am. It's not my
fault this time, Scully, really. I'd take my meds if I had any left. I don't
know how to get them anymore. Can't run down to the drug store after an
apocalypse, can I? They closed all the drugs stores. The world is officially
out of business. It's the end of the world as we know it. I remember that song.
The end of the world. Joy to the world. Oh, God, Scully, where are you?

Don't scare Skinner, Mulder. He tries to act like he's not watching, but you
know he is. Hey, Walt, old buddy. This is just the manic phase, you'll get used
to me. Think this is bad? Wait. Depression's just around the corner. Yeah,
that's right, keep smiling you bald headed fucker.

God damn it, Mulder. You can control this. You've got to. You know you can.
Concentrate. Forget about pain. I need to work. Keep busy. The files. Got a new
tape. How're my batteries? Fine. We're fine on those. Wagner's got plenty of
those stored. We can keep going, and going, and going...

Concentrate. Skinner told me to catch up on the file Wagner started on me.
It'll give me something to do while I'm healing. He told me maybe it'll help.
I've got nothing else to do. I don't think THEY'LL come back. Why would they
come back? What did they want? Me? What the hell do they have to worry about
from me? Nothing. So we don't have to worry about another attack. Right? Now we
just need to pick up the pieces and go on.

Go on. We need to go on. Fuck. Why? They killed Wagner. The mother fuckers
shot Kami. They killed Kami. They shot me. Kami tried to help so they killed
her; then they set fire to the place. They burned it all. There's nothing left
'cept the fucking basement. They thought I was dead. They always think I'm
dead. I might as well be dead. I should be dead. There's nothing left. Nothing.
I thought it was bad before, but now... Did they find Scully? Why can't I feel
Scully? Is she dead? Oh, shit. That man, he came from there. He said they
burned D.C. to the ground. Was she there? Is she dead? Why can't I feel you?
Scully?

I'm better now. Skinner did a little recon down in Fort Collins. Gotta give
the man credit. I guess I scared him so bad with that grand mal last week, when
I was making my last tape, he decided it was time to do something. I needed
help, big time. It was a bad one, I guess. He knew I couldn't take many more
like that one. He looked in the files at what medications Scully said I was on.
He then made a midnight raid on some store that he'd staked out when he was
getting our rations. Way to go, Marine.

We found a couple of Scully's Journals. She brought them home with her, I
guess. Stuck them down here in the basement. That's all we have left of the
trip. I lost all my tapes. Kami's videos never made it out of Guatemala. God,
all those tapes. She thought she was Steven Spielberg (laugh). She filmed
everything that moved those first few weeks. Oh, shit, Kami.

Just tell the fucking story, Mulder. Hey, don't worry. I'm okay, Skinner. You
can relax. Another Xanax? Okay, so, maybe I'll relax instead. Back to work.
We'll take it from Mexico. Between this and Scully's journals, we might be able
to piece it all together. Start with Mexico? Okay, from the top. We went to
Mexico...

We got to Mexico City the afternoon of September 12th, 2000. I guess we should
call it the calm before the storm. We were like tourists. The hotel was right
across the street from the ruins. Club Med has a deal set with the Mexican
Government. They're the only commercial venture allowed on the historical site.
Of course, that makes the rates at the place sky high, but hey, we were being
financed by the 11th richest man in the world. It was great. A working
vacation. Scully didn't know. She didn't know that Wagner believed me. That he
believed in my powers. Why else send a blind man down to look for ruins. I'm
not an archeologist. What would I know about dating ancient artifacts? Except
Wagner knew I could do it. He'd tested me. Scully never knew.

Wagner and I started our little parapsychological experiments back when I was
still a member of the Poudre Valley Hospital, "Cashew Club." You know, the nut
house, or if we gotta be PC about it all for this report, when I was undergoing
psychiatric evaluation. They finally figured out how much was "crazy" and how
much was "brain damage" and then decided what pills it was going to take to fix
me. I know it took a lot.

Anyway, Wagner left the ranch to come see me. He never left this place. But he
was intrigued. My little demonstration of psychic, self-healing had hooked him.
So we did a few tests of our own, to find out if I might have a few more
"metaphysical" gifts. It was tough going. They had me on so many different
medications, trying to find the right combination that would allow me to
function, my "gifts" were being muted.

Our first success was with psycometry. We discovered that, when I put my hands
an object, I could "read" flashes of it's history. I tried this once with a
psychic named Clyde Bruckman, but we really didn't have too much success. At
first, I was even less successful than Clyde. Wagner handed me a rabbit's foot.
Nothing. Maybe it was the drugs I was on. This was still relatively early in my
stay and I was still pretty "out there". But maybe, with a walnut sized brain,
the bunny didn't know his history. I got a few, slight, sensory perceptions,
but nothing you could call a "reading".

Next, we tried an object that had never been animate. Wagner gave me a tiny
chain he'd taken from around his neck. It had a little gold cross, just like
the one Scully has. There was nothing at first, but Wagner was a patient man.
He watched while I held the jewelry in my hand. I closed my eyes and
concentrated. There were no flashes of insight, no great "vision" of where the
bauble had been. After several minutes I gave up and handed it back to Wagner,
with a sigh, assuming I didn't have any psychic talents in this area. I assumed
we were on the wrong track.

"No good," I told him, disappointed that our experiment had failed. "Either I
don't have 'it' or your mom just didn't give a shit about jewelry this cheap."

Wagner's face, to quote a golden moldy, went a whiter shade of pale. The pen
he'd been diligently taking notes with clattered to the floor. I didn't know
what was wrong. Too many drugs, I guess.

I didn't know how I knew. I'd just assumed. It was not a masculine piece. So
maybe I guessed.

"Well, I just figured it wasn't yours, so it had to have been given to you by
a woman, someone who meant something to you. Why else would you be wearing it?
Mom's a logical choice, right?" A logical explanation. A sensible explanation.
My years with Scully had rubbed off.

Wagner didn't say anything for a long while. He just sat there, looking at the
little faux gold necklace. It was snaked in a tiny circle on his open palm. I
started to get nervous, which, in itself, was odd. With the amount of Xanax I
was on, my nerves should have been vacationing somewhere between Shangri la and
the Emerald City.

At last, my own private Daddy Warbucks came out of his trance. He gave me a
death's head grin and explained, his voice a soft, calm whisper, "Mulder, my
mother never liked me. It was sad, but true. I excepted it. Mommy didn't like
anyone in Colorado. She came from old money, back East. Except the family had
lost most of what they'd had in the 20s. You know, 'the crash'?"

I nodded, not yet understanding where his confessions of family dynamics and
financial history were leading. Still, there was a certain tightness in my
lower 'gut' that happens when a man feels fear.

"Well, she married my father to save her family. Dad knew it. So did I. She
married him for his money and never let him forget it. Well, to get to the
point, Mulder, I gave my mom this necklace when I was twelve. I bought it on a
field trip my class took to Cripple Creek. I was so proud of my gift. But she
never wore it. She just stuck it away, in a box in her closet. I found it when
I was going through her things after she died." He paused a moment and his
voice grew even more haunted. "She did hate cheap jewelry, Mulder. But how
would you know that?"

"I guess the fact she kept it all those years, surprised me. I was touched. So
I wear it."

He sounded tired. I knew how he felt. Realizing that I did, in fact, now have
some kind of 'gift' didn't excite me as much as I thought it would. To tell the
truth, it made me understand why Clyde Bruckman put that bag over his head.
Bruckman was right, that really isn't a bad way to make an exit. I'll keep it
in mind. I kinda like the idea of coming and going at the same time.

Skinner read back what he'd transcribed on my last few tapes and if I ever had
any doubts before about my sanity, they're gone now. They prove I'm one sick
puppy. Who else but a crazy man would want their deepest, darkest inner
thoughts down on paper. Especially when they're bi-polar and suffer from
seizures. They sound like a textbook case of the classic manic-depressive,
epileptic without medication. So, I'm a masochist for posterity.

Skinner got to a working phone today. He's becoming a regular Road Warrior.
Good to know at least one of us is gonna be able to survive what has happened.

Shut up, Mulder, you're embarrassing yourself again. Whatever future
generation finds these files will know I'm a whiner, on top of everything else.
Ha. Like they wouldn't have discovered that before now.

Because we found those Journals Scully hid away, I think we'll have a fairly
good, running commentary about the trip down South. My own tapes were lost with
Kami's. So from here up to when they got us out of the jungle, will be Scully's
tale. I'll add what I can remember in notes, when necessary, but I think
Scully's version would be the most accurate.

A week at a Club Med resort. Sitting next to Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman at
dinner. Mulder smiling, joking, laughing again. Have I died and gone to heaven?
That's how these last two weeks have been and if this is all a dream -- please,
God, don't let me ever wake up.

Kami just came in to inform me she almost wet her pants. She says she bumped
into Brad Pitt out in the courtyard. Seems they're filming scenes for "The
Vampire Lestat/Queen of the Damned," here at the ruins.

She and Mulder are going back over to the site, so I guess I'll have to spend
another day lazing about the pool and hitting the gym. We're all in the best
shape of our lives. All tan, (well, Kami and Mulder are tan, unfortunately
that's another thing money can't buy, melanin for the "Irish Ghost" here).
healthy and happy. Mulder just informed me during lunch that this is our last
day here. We fly down to Cancun tomorrow.

I idly watch him and Kami as they walk away, then it hits me. I'm stunned.
He's made all the arrangements.

I repeat -- HE'S MADE ALL THE ARRANGEMENTS. HE meaning MULDER. I'm amazed,
because, well, I didn't realize he could. I mean, how is he capable? Where is
this all coming from? God knows, I'm thankful he has recovered as much as he
has, but...HOW CAN THIS BE?

The man I watch, crossing the wide tarmac road, is not supposed to be where he
is right now, medically speaking. His last CT scan clearly shows severe damage
to the left frontal lobe. Now class, what does that mean? Well, we'd see a
limp. Yes, that's true. His right leg is weak, though he's adapted his gait,
so it appears more of a swagger that a true limp. Notice how he holds his right
arm so close to his side. It's almost useless, no fine motor skills. But he's
adapted to using his left so well, that if you didn't know for certain about
his weak side, you might not notice.

Now, the fact that he's vision impaired is obvious, he's lost an eye. He wears
a patch. But watch him with the young girl, see the way her hand rests lightly
on his elbow. Now if you didn't know, you would think that he was leading her
to their destination, not the other way around.

It has been 18 months since I first saw him lying near death there in that
ICU. I remember thinking at the time, "God, please, just let him die. He can't
live like this. Not Mulder. Not my Mulder." I know the facts of his case. I
know where he's supposed to be. It's not here in Mexico, making up the
itinerary for our vacation, strolling up the boulevard without a care in the
world. I should be down on my knees; this is a miracle that I've witnessed.
But, instead, I'm frightened. God help me, I'm so frightened.

He didn't wake when I slipped away to answer nature's call. Old habits remain,
so our rooms adjoin, and I carefully, quietly steal away to grab this book. I
feel the need to sort through my thoughts. To commit this night to the
permanence of ink and paper. They knew, the Ancients who lived there across the
road, that some things should be made to last forever.

He sleeps and I ask myself how I presumed to question God's mercy. I read what
I wrote just a scant 18 hours ago and I'm ashamed. What had all my prayers been
for? All those times, I'd opened up my heart and asked God for a miracle, why
did I do it? God answers my prayers, and I question the hows and whys? I don't
deserve what he's returned to me. Fortunately, God saw that Mulder deserves his
mercy.

The gentle candlelight casts soft shadows while I study the sight of Mulder
dozing peacefully in his bed. What little sleep I found was here, in his arms.
I find I can't stop smiling. Is this God's way of letting me know he forgives
me my doubts? My lack of faith? Is this his way of telling me that Mulder and I
are meant to be, no matter what "man" tries to tear asunder?

Mulder claims this is fate, destiny. He says he knows, if not the future, at
least when something is meant to be. Just before he fell asleep, he assured me
that everything that happened was kismet. Why is it, when THIS man gives me
that old line, I truly believe him?

It started with a note, left on the door to my room, telling me I had an
appointment with the hairdressers, masseuse, the whole Elizabeth Arden sort of
treatment, here at the hotel. I figured what the hell, Kami probably made it
for me. A little surprise, one girlfriend to another. She and Mulder would be
gone all day, doing their Indiana Jones thing over at the pyramid. Why
shouldn't I get a little pampering?

It was heaven. Thank you, Kami! Five hours later, I was relaxed, shorn,
coifed, manicured, pedicured... my pores are the cleanest they've been in my
life. I opened the door to my room and there, spread out on the bed, was a
beautiful peasant skirt and blouse. Beside the clothing was a bouquet of tea
roses, tiny and red, (I made the connection, Mulder). with another note
attached. A dinner invitation. 7:00 p.m., on the patio of my partner's room. It
was 6:45 and I am nothing if not prompt. I dressed in my new outfit, slipped on
a pair of sandals and strolled to Mulder's room, wondering if he would be able
to see the grin plastered so broadly across my face.

Mulder answered the door with a smile, happy that I had accepted. The room
glowed with the light of a dozen candles. Mulder had been shopping, too. He was
dressed in white, which set off the warm bronze of his recently acquired tan.
His shirt was the style we called a "Mexican wedding shirt" during the late
'70s'. The fabric was a soft, thin cheesecloth. His pants were simple slacks,
low slung and loose-fitting. He was barefoot.

He blushed a bit and reached up to finger the bright cotton of my blouse. His
eye squinted while he strained to see his gift in the dim light, "Do you like
it?"

"Kami helped," he admitted. Another blush darkened his high cheekbones and I
noticed for the first time how wonderful the man looked in a beard. He'd
stopped shaving the day we arrived south of the border, so the beard was filled
in and full. There were twin strips of white, that grew from the corners of his
mouth to disappear under his chin, but the effect was strikingly handsome. His
hair was lighter and longer than normal and the total picture, especially with
the patch that covered his left eye, was that of a poet/pirate. A soulful
rogue? A rakish scholar?

"No magic mirror can erase, these lines of living on my face; lessons learned
and lost. "Staring at his rough, rugged countenance, I thought to myself that
Mulder was somehow more handsome now, that his pain had added a touch of grace
to his beauty. It was less callow, so much deeper, more real.

He led me out to the small patio and my smile grew even wider when I saw the
intimate atmosphere he and Kami had created for this dinner. They'd thought of
everything. All the pieces were in place for an evening of romantic dining,
from wine chilling to music wafting from some hidden recorder.

"Starved," I replied truthfully as I waited for him to lift the silver covers
from our plates. I smelled chicken, chilies and lime. "Smells wonderful."

Mulder reached for the wine and awkwardly poured me a glass. His own was
filled with tea. "Wouldn't mix with the meds," he sheepishly explained to me,
then blushed again when he remembered to whom he was speaking.

His face darkened into a frown, "I keep messing up. This isn't going right.
God, why can't I do this? It's only a dinner," he muttered. His head was down
but his voice rose in desperation.

"Maybe you're trying too hard, Mulder," I murmured, grabbing his hand. "Maybe
we both are."

"Scully, I wanted to make this special, you know? Like before." His voice was
so low it was almost a whisper. "Things have been going so well. I thought I
could do this now."

"What don't you think you can do?" I asked, worry and confusion making my grip
on his fingers tighten.

"I thought I was ready. I just wanted us to have a night where we could talk,
where we could be alone. Where we could be "us" again. Scully, this isn't how
it was supposed to be. This can't be how it was before."

Suddenly, I realized what was wrong. I finally understood the problem and was
thankful the dim light would hide my smile. "But, Mulder, we've never done
anything like this. You know? Before you were injured, we never had an evening
alone, with candlelight, just the two of us. It was never like this. We weren't
like this before."

He leaned back in his chair, stunned. "But, I remember...Scully, we were
close. We were. I know we were. I thought...We loved each other, didn't we? I
know I love you, I know I've always loved you. This is the one thing I'm sure
of, about before. Us. There was an "us", wasn't there? How can I be wrong about
that? I remember."

I watched him struggle against his tears, not knowing what to say. How could I
explain what had been before when I hadn't even understood it myself?

"Scully, then why are you here? Why are we together now, if you didn't...if
you don't love me? Why did you stay? Through everything? If you don't love me,
why are you still here?"

We didn't talk. You never asked me. There was never time. It was never "the
right" time. We had time, so why rush it. We knew it, we knew it was there,
almost from the start, so why couldn't we ever say...

The Earth didn't stop spinning. Not a single star fell from the sky. The
ground didn't quake. The fountains still flowed water, not blood, and I was
amazed. The world didn't end because I let Mulder hear me say those three small
words. He almost smiled, but it died before it touched the corners of his mouth.

"Why not then? Why not before? What stopped us? I don't understand, Scully,"
he sighed, his face etched with sadness.

"I don't either, Mulder," I agreed, tears filling my eyes. I weakly pushed up,
not sure my legs would hold me and stumbled over. I kneeled in front of him and
took his face in my hands. "We're together now. Now is what's important,
Mulder."

"I've always loved you, Scully," he murmured, pulling me onto his lap. "Now,"
the word was breathed softly against my neck and he held me closer. "Now is
when forever starts."

Skinner read to me from her Journal. I don't know if this part really belongs
in the files, but I know I'll sleep better tonight, because he read it. It got
to Skinner, too. When he got to that last part, after Scully and I talked about
'now', he just closed the book, put out the fire and climbed into his bunk.
He's already long gone. I wonder if he's dreaming about her? I wonder WHAT he's
dreaming about her? No, maybe I'd better not wonder about that.

I hope I dream about that night. You know, it's funny, but for the longest
time, after getting shot, I couldn't dream. Another part of the brain damage, I
guess. What's really strange, is I know that before, I never slept, because I
had too many dreams. Too many nightmares.

Where do we keep our dreams? Where do they come from? They can't come from
just one part of our brain, because now, I can dream. If it was only the one
place and I'd lost that part when I was shot, then I shouldn't be able to dream
now.

I must have known before where our dreams come from. I know I studied the mind
at Oxford. Ph.D. in Psychology. That's gone now. Almost totally erased. All
that's left is like the burnt out shell of a house. If I get to close, I'm
afraid that what's left will turn to ash, then disappear. I don't need to lose
any more of myself. There's too much gone already.

Pieces are gone, only pieces. But the whole picture will never really be
clear, because of what's missing. You find ways of figuring out what you're
supposed to see, to know, but you're never sure if it's right. Even with the
power, I never really know. The powers came when the dreams came back.

Scully would know about the dreams. She would know why they came back. I think
she was afraid, when my dreams returned. I don't believe they were supposed to,
after what happened to me. That frightened her. So much of what happened made
her afraid. I made her afraid. That's why she left me.

I dreamed about Scully. She was crying. Someone told her that I'm dead. They
told her we're all dead. She was alone and scared. She cried till she finally
slept, then she dreamed she was here with me.

I held her and spoke softly into her ear, "Don't cry, Scully. It's still
forever."