Jennifer's dedication: For Katilina, my partner in crime and so much more...
 

ACUMEN
by: Jennifer Maurer & Leyla Harrison
 

"To keep in silence I resigned
My friends would think I was a nut
Turning water into wine
Open doors would soon be shut
So I wait from day to day
Though my life was in a rut
Till I thought of what I'd say
Which connection I should cut
I was feeling part of the scenery
I walked right out of the machinery
My heart going boom, boom, boom
Hey, I said, you can keep my things
He's come to take me home."
 --Peter Gabriel, "Solsbury Hill"

 *************

"How do you feel about going leaving the hospital, Dana?"

"A little nervous, but good.  I miss sleeping in my own bed."

"What else do you miss?"

"Being in a familiar place.  I've been here a month but it's not comfortable.  It's not home.  I also miss feeling capable."

"You don't feel capable here?"

"Not always.  I know I've done a lot of hard work.  I've made progress.  But sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't have had to do all this in the first place."

"Why?"

"Because I know better."

"Better than who?"

"Better than...myself, I guess.  I mean, I'm a doctor.  I knew what I was doing was harmful.  I did it anyway.  I went against my own knowledge of medicine and almost destroyed myself."

"Could you have stopped?"

"No.  I...I *had* to do those things.  It was the only way I could hold it together.  In the end, though, everything fell apart."

"But you're here now.  You survived."

"Thanks to Mulder.  If he hadn't found me..."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dana.  Mulder may have brought you to the hospital, but after that your recovery became your responsibility."

"Sometimes I feel guilty for sending him away.  Maybe I should have let him visit me.  We've never been apart for this long since we started working together.  Even when they separated us, we always stayed in touch."

"Except when you were taken."

"Yes.  Except then."

"How do you feel when you think about that now?"

"Angry.  Scared.  But not like before."

"How is it different?"

"It doesn't rule me.  I can't shut it off completely, as much as I would like to, but I can stop thinking about it for awhile.  I can focus on other things."

"Do you remember anything more of what happened to you?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know.  Maybe someday.  Not anytime soon.  That may be denial, but that's how I feel."

"It's all right to feel that way.  The mind is very complex, Dana.  It shields us from things we're not ready to know about yet.  It protects us.  You may think you're ready to remember, but until you *really* are, your mind won't let you access those memories."

"I could force them up.  I could *make* myself remember, if I really tried."

"Maybe so, but would that be wise?"

"It would get everything over with all at once.  I would never have to wonder again."

"Is not knowing that bad?"

"Sometimes I think it can't be as bad as my worst nightmares.  Other times I feel it could be much worse than anything I could possibly imagine."

"Is there any other reason you think you might want to remember?"

"You know.  Because of Mulder."

"He's your partner, naturally he's concerned about what happened to you."

"It's more than that.  I saw his face when he came into my hospital room.  How he looked when I told him I didn't remember anything.  He thought...he hoped I would be able to tell him about Samantha."

"Did he ask you about her?"

"Oh, no.  Mulder wouldn't do that.  But I could tell.  He said it didn't matter but I knew he was lying."

"Do you remember what you were feeling at that point?"

"Yes.  I was furious at him for lying.  He hadn't even asked me anything and yet I was angry at him for hoping.  But he can't help it, Mulder looks for answers everywhere.  I was appalled at the time I'd missed.  Nothing like that had ever happened to me before.  I always know where everything is.  I can account for every second of my day.  Sometimes I am overly rigid but not much more than your average person, I think.  Suddenly someone had ripped three months of my life away.  That's a season.  Most of the leaves had fallen by the time I got back.  News happened, people died and were born, and I missed it all.  I can go back and read about it but it's not the same."

"How can you make up for that?"

"I can't.  I just have to accept it and move on.  Maybe someday I will know.  Maybe someday Mulder will have the answers he wants."

"You talk a lot about Mulder wanting answers.  Don't you want to know?"

"I don't think so.  No.  Not now."

"That's okay, Dana.  As long as you don't shut your memories out when they do try to return to you."

"I hope they never do."

"What will happen if they do?"

"I will...cope.  In healthy ways.  They tried to destroy me but I survived.  No one expected me to live, but I did.  It would be foolish to self-destruct after living through something like that."

"Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you think it's the right thing to say?"

"A little of both.  I do want to live.  I know things can never go back to the way they were, but I want them to be as normal as possible.  I have to explain that to Mulder, too.  He's just been...lost."

"It sounds like he's very important to you."

"Yes, he is.  I don't think he has any idea.  I heard him talking to me when I was in a coma.  He helped me to come back."

"Is that hard for you, as a scientist?  To admit to a supernatural experience?"

"I don't know that I'd call it supernatural.  The doctors thought I had no awareness of my environment.  Obviously they were wrong.  I knew Mom and Melissa were there too."

"But you say Mulder was the one that brought you back."

"Yes. I...I told him I had the strength of his beliefs.  I didn't know how else to say it.  No one else thought I would live.  Except him.  And that was enough."

"How do you feel about going back to work with him?"

"I'm looking forward to it.  I miss the excitement. I miss feeling useful.  I miss Mulder.  I'm surprised at how much I miss him."

"Any other feelings?"

"Fear.  That I won't be an effective agent and one of us will get hurt because of it.  The trouble is, I won't really know if I'm capable of being in the field until I actually get there, but I can't let our partnership be some kind of experiment.  I want guarantees.  I want to know ahead of time that everything is going to turn out okay."

"But you don't have that."

"No, anything could happen."

"Isn't your job always like that?"

"Yes, but if something went wrong because of me, I would never forgive myself.  Mulder's been through enough already.  He doesn't need to take care of me."

"Is it wrong that he wants to protect you?"

"No, I know he means well.  But I don't want him to feel he *has* to do it, or that it's a one way street.  I watch his back just like he watches mine.  I want him to be able to trust me to do that.  I need that.  I can't work with him if he's going to worry *all* the time."

"Why not?"

"Because that will mean he doesn't trust me, and I can't work with him if he doesn't trust me.  I just...can't."

"So you would leave the X-Files?"

"Yes.  No.  I couldn't.  I have as much of a personal stake in them now as Mulder does.  And I don't *want* to walk away.  I love working the X-Files.  I love working with Mulder.  He's like nobody else I know."

"Can you talk to him about this?"

"I have to.  There's too much between us that needs to be resolved if we're going to get back the relationship we had.  And I want it back.  It's one of the most important things to me.  It's something constant; I can always count on him.  But things have changed.  I mean, for God's sake, I beat the shit out of him."

"Do you think he blames you for that?"

"No, but I blame myself."

"Can you forgive yourself? If Mulder forgives you?"

"He already has."

"Do you think you two can work things out?"

"I know we can.  Mulder and I have been through too much to give up now.  It's going to take some time but I feel we will be able to rebuild our partnership."

"What else has to happen for you to recover?"

"I have more work to do, I know that.  As a doctor I know that anorexia isn't cured in a month.  That the roots probably go farther back than my abduction.  Being home will help.  I'm hoping to build a stronger relationship with my sister.  Settling back into a daily routine outside of the hospital, I want to do that."

"You seem to have a handle on what you need to do to take care of yourself, Dana.  What about the people around you?"

"It's hard to admit that I need other people to do anything for me.  They are a part of my life, though, and they do have an effect on me.  Sometimes I don't know exactly what I want from them.  It changes."

"How about your family?  What do you need from them?"

"Space. I need Mom and Melissa to give me space to learn to care for myself again.  I love them and I know they want to help but only *I* can go through the process.  They can't do it for me."

"Can you ask for help if you need it?"

"I think so.  It's easier with Mom because I'm closer to her.  Melissa and I used to compete a lot so it's harder.  I was afraid she would think I was weak but I think my illness has brought us closer together.  I know they care even if I don't always want them to."

"What about Mulder?  Do you need him?"

"I need Mulder most of all.  He...has a completely different perspective on this.  As my partner he's the only one who fully understands what happened to me, or what we know of it, anyway.  I didn't realize it at the time but he's the one I put my back up against.  Even when I was tearing us down he was there for me."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Guilty.  I think sometimes I don't deserve him.  I ignored his pain.  I was so wrapped up in myself that I forgot he was hurting too."

"Do you feel responsible for Mulder's pain?"

"Some of it.  I can't make him stop blaming himself but I could have made it easier on him."

"How?"

"Maybe by letting him help me.  It would have eased his guilt somewhat, I think.  Made him feel like he was doing something.  Making a difference.  He told me he didn't know if being by my side would help me wake up, but it did.  I could have told him that."

"Is that the only reason you regret shutting him out?"

"No.  If I had let him in it would have benefited me as well.  I wouldn't have felt so alone.  I might not have reached this point."

"Are you sorry about what happened?  About being hospitalized?"

"I regret hurting Mulder, emotionally and physically.  That more than anything, I think.  I'll never forget his face when I woke up.  I had his blood under my fingernails.  I also regret wasting so much time hurting myself.  Yet I can't really say I'm sorry I went through all this.  It's made me stronger.  I learned things about myself that I might not have learned otherwise.  I want to benefit from this knowledge, take it back and put it to good use.  Let it help Mulder, too, maybe.  It doesn't seem fair that I'm getting better when I left Mulder alone to fend for himself."

"Mulder's a grown man.  Don't you think he can ask for help if he needs it?"

"Actually, no.  He's even worse in that area than I am.  It's still not easy but I *can* do it.  The real question is if I *will*.  I'm not sure that Mulder even *can*.

"That's not your responsibility, though.  You are each accountable only to yourselves."

"Yes, but I want to help him.  I owe him a great debt.  I want to share my recovery with him.  I know he'd like that.  Maybe some of it would even rub off on him.  I don't want him to punish himself.  I know how that hurts and he doesn't deserve that.  Neither do I."

"You've come a long way to be able to say that, Dana."

"I always knew I didn't deserve to be abducted.  I think I'm finally learning to cope with the loss of control.  There is nothing I can do about it except live with it."

"Is that hard to admit?"

"Yes.  It always will be, but I can do it.  I couldn't before."

"You should be very proud of yourself, Dana.  You've made remarkable progress.  We still have some issues to work on but I have no reservations about discharging you."

"Thank you.  I'm glad to be going home.  I think that's when the true test really begins."

"How so?"

"I live alone, so there's no one to make sure I eat.  I have to take responsibility for my own care.  And then there's Mulder.  He and I have some tough times ahead of us, I think."

"He's picking you up, isn't he?"

"Yes.  He should be in the sun room waiting for me by now.  I told Mom I wanted him to bring me home; she and Missy will come over later."

"Dana, good luck.  I'll see you in a week for our first out-patient session.  Bring Mulder if you think it would help."

"Thanks, but I think I want to reach him on my own."

"That's fine, whatever you two are comfortable with.  I'll see you soon."

I shook Dr. Johnson's hand and left her office.  I had butterflies in my stomach but I was also excited.  I couldn't wait to get out of the hospital.  I wanted to be home among my own things, settle back into a normal life.  I wanted to see Mulder, wanted him to be proud of me.

I walked down the hall towards the sun room, my sneakers squeaking quietly on the tile floor.  Mulder was alone in the bright room, slouched down in a chair.  He stared out the window, jiggling his legs nervously.

I stood silently for a moment, drinking in the sight of him.  He had shadows under his eyes but otherwise he looked good.  The scratches and bruises were gone.  I knew he'd gone through hell this past month, not being able to visit me.  Asking everyone to stay away was the hardest thing I'd ever done, especially in his case.  I needed to be away from them to really examine myself.  I hoped he'd used some of the time to do something besides beat himself up, but I wasn't optimistic.  I had some idea how Mulder had fared without me.  At least he knew I was safe this time.

I had missed him more than I thought possible.  We had spoken on the phone a few times when I was well enough---brief, awkward conversations.  We were both hurting.  I couldn't yet articulate what I was feeling and Mulder was scared of me.  That hurt but I knew I'd brought it on myself.  Hopefully now we could get past all that.

I walked slowly forward and stopped just behind his chair.  Still lost in thought, he didn't notice me.

"Mulder," I called softly.

In one motion he rose to his feet and turned to face me.  He looked at me solemnly, trying not to be too obvious about checking me out.  I spread my arms as if to say "take a look" and he nodded, smiling slightly.  I smiled back and held out my hand to him.

"It's good to see you, Mulder," I said simply.

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"It's good to see you too, Scully."

After the briefest of pauses spent wondering if we should, we stepped forward at the same time and into each other's arms.  I felt and heard Mulder's great sigh of relief and I smiled again into his shirt.  I had felt cold and frail for so long; it felt good to hold onto Mulder's warm, solid body.  It felt good to be warm and solid myself.

Finally we let go and stepped back to look at each other, still holding hands.

"You look good, Scully.  How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you."

Another pregnant pause.  Mulder dropped my hands and awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes.  I just need to grab my bag out of my room."

We walked down the hall together, silently.  I tried to squash the first creeping doubts.  We'd both been through a terrible ordeal, not to mention two painful separations.  It was going to take time for us to heal.  I wanted to spend some time with Mulder before we dove back into work.  We had built our relationship slowly, but it was built to last.  We may have been sidetracked but I had faith we would come out of this stronger.  I couldn't believe otherwise.  Any other outcome was unacceptable.  Mulder was too important to me.  One of the many lessons I had learned this past month.

We stepped into my room and Mulder shouldered my small bag.  We walked down the hall to the nurses' station.

"Dana, you're leaving us!" exclaimed Ruth, one of the nurses.

"Yes, I've been given a clean bill of health."

"Sign on the dotted line and you're a free woman."

I scribbled my name with a flourish and slid the papers back across the desk.

"Take care of yourself, Dana.  We don't ever want to see you again," Ruth joked.

"Don't worry, you won't," Mulder said quietly.  I turned to him, surprised and touched at his faith in me.  He guided me to the elevator, his hand on the small of my back.  I smiled at the familiar gesture.  He wouldn't have said that, wouldn't touch me, if he were still scared of me, I reassured myself.

We took the rest of the trip with little conversation.  A few times in the car I turned and caught him looking at me.  I smiled and he smiled back but neither of us said anything.  After awhile the silence wasn't as comfortable but I was unsure how to break the ice, if I should at all.  If he wanted to know anything, he could ask me.  I would answer him honestly.  I knew he must have been hurt by my deceit.  I hoped he understood that it had been part of my illness.  What if he didn't trust me anymore?  What if he never trusted me again?  I certainly wouldn't blame him.  My fear kept me silent.  As with so much else in my life, not knowing for sure seemed a safer option.  For now, anyway.

Mulder walked me up to my apartment.  It was almost as if we were coming home from another case.  Except for the tension between us.  I wanted reassurances from him but I was becoming less and less confident I would get them.  You made your bed, now lie in it, I reminded myself.  This wasn't anyone's fault, just an unfortunate offshoot of the abduction.  A defense mechanism gone awry, now triggering Mulder's own self-protection.   If I were him I'd be wary too.  He didn't know what kind of partner or friend I would be now.  He wasn't sure who I was anymore.

I entered my apartment and was greeted by the smell of flowers.  A bouquet of lilies in a pretty glass vase stood on my coffee table.  I plucked the small envelope from the sheaf and read the card.

<Welcome home.  Mulder.>

I turned to where he was still standing hesitantly in the doorway.

"Oh, Mulder, thank you.  You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to.  Your mom told me lilies are your favorite."

"Yes, they are."

He shifted nervously from one foot to another. I took a deep breath and gathered up my courage.  No time like the present to start building bridges.

"Mulder, can you stay for awhile?"

"Um, no, not really.  I have some things I need to take care of."

My heart sank, but I nodded.  Take it easy.  Rome wasn't built in a day.  It took patience to earn his trust the first time around, I reminded myself.  I wanted things to pick up where we'd left off but of course that wasn't possible.  I wondered how I'd survived waiting for his trust the first time.  But then, I hadn't known what I was missing.  Well, I could wait again.  I had no other choice.

"Okay, I'll see you later then."

"I mean, if you *need* me to stay, I could..."

"No, Mulder, I'll be all right. Mom and Melissa are coming over in a little while."

He nodded and was gone.  I watched the door shut behind him.  I still missed him.  It didn't feel like we'd really been reunited.  Once we got back to work, though, I was sure things would improve.  We'd never been totally comfortable sharing down time anyway.

I woke before my alarm the next morning.  First day back.  I knew I should be glad to be back to work, and a part of me was.  There was nothing that I cared about more than my job; knowing that I was a good agent, knowing that I was doing the right thing.  It had always been so important to me.

It was a routine case.  I wondered if Mulder had arranged things that way to ease me back into work, then discarded the idea.  The VCS was short a few people and they needed someone to go out and assist with a case -- some bastard who had shot three convenience store clerks within that many days and took off with the money in the safe.  An informant had keyed us in to his whereabouts and Mulder and I headed out the door to an old abandoned warehouse just outside of Annapolis.

Abandoned warehouses.  It was almost laughable.  Mulder and I had seen our share of them.  It was almost our trademark.  Find the bad guy.  Follow him to a warehouse.  That would have been fine, except Mulder and I had our share of weird experiences in warehouses.  Alien bodies stored there.  I couldn't exactly say that I liked those places.  They reminded me of bad dreams -- dark and damp and air that felt like it was contaminated -- not just by chemicals or dirt, but by eevil.

So when Mulder pushed open the door to the warehouse this time I couldn't help but get a strange sense of deja vu.  Mulder was shining his flashlight into the room and I looked up at him.

"Remember Tooms?" I asked, and he nodded.  Apparently I wasn't the only one who recalled the first time we had gone into 66 Exeter Street.  This didn't feel exactly the same, but just as we had sensed that there was something wrong in that old abandoned apartment building, we both could sense this old abandoned warehouse had something in it, something very wrong.

We took a few steps inside.  Silence between us.  The door swung closed, leaving us in darkness except for the two flashlights we carried.  In the glow from his, I saw Mulder open his mouth to speak.  At the same time I heard a faraway noise, metal clanging on metal.  I touched Mulder's arm and gestured for him to stay quiet.

I looked ahead.  There was a passageway with two darkened corridors, one on either side.  I motioned to Mulder that I was going to take the left corridor and he should take the right.

Are you sure?  His eyes were hooded by near darkness but I could still read them.

I nodded, hoping that he would understand that I was telling him I would be fine.  After a moment's hesitation, he nodded back, clicked off his flashlight and slipped down the right corridor, disappearing into the blackness.

I debated for a moment about my own flashlight.  On or off?  Mulder seemed to think that he would be fine without his.  I should be able to do the same, right?

I turned the light off and slipped it into my coat pocket, feeling it thump reassuringly against my thigh as I walked silently down the passageway, using my hand against the wall to guide me.

More noises.  I froze.  I couldn't tell if they were coming from in front of me or behind me.  I must have gone about fifty feet by now.

I came to a corner.  By feeling around I could tell that I had the option to turn left or right.  I glanced around the left corner and could see, far away, a square of light.  An exit.  I turned right instead.

There were little fragments of light from holes in the wall that shone into the narrow passageway, and I used them to guide me along.

Another noise.  Louder this time.  Definitely in front of me now.  I pulled my gun from its holster and carefully, quietly, checked to see that the safety was off.  I held it steadily in front of me.

I could see from the small pinpoints of light that I was nearing another corner.  I stood still.  What was that?  I concentrated.  It sounded like the shuffling of feet.  I tightened my grip on the gun, my finger just barely on the trigger.

I'm going to get him, I thought.  I'm going to nail this bastard.

I paused for a moment longer, then tightened my finger on the trigger enough so that I would know that I was able to pull it if I needed to at a moment's notice.

I jumped around the corner and aimed the gun.  "Federal agent!" I yelled, and was shocked by the same words being yelled back at me at the exact same time.

Even in the near darkness, I could see the gun in my face, not more than three feet away.  And I could see Mulder's face.  His horrified face as he realized that he was leveling his gun at me.

<Oh, my God.>

He was pointing the gun at me.

The last time this happened Mulder and I were in the Arctic.  We were in the same situation.  Pointing guns at each other.

My hands trembled and I realized that I was still squeezing the trigger, ready to shoot him.  Ready to shoot Mulder.

Mulder.  Oh, God.

He still hadn't lowered his gun.

The silence was so thick that I was sure he could hear my heart thumping loudly in the empty corridor.

"Jesus, Scully," he finally breathed, and lowered the gun to his side.  I did the same, feeling the ache in my arms and feeling the sweat trickling down my back and slippery on the gun's handle.

"I heard a noise..." I stammered, my voice coming out as a croak.  "I thought it was him." I couldn't even remember his name.  All I could think about is Mulder's face as I trained my gun on him.

Not a good way to get back into the swing of things, I thought miserably.  I shoved the gun into my holster.

"It was a mistake," Mulder said, his voice also a little shaky.  "It's no big deal, Scully."

"No big deal?" I asked him incredulously.  We just almost shot each other, and it's no big deal?  Is he kidding?

His cel phone rang shrilly, interrupting anything further I wanted to say.  He answered it quickly, not taking his eyes off of me.  "Mulder.  Yeah.  He did?  OK, great.  Thanks."

"What is it?" I asked him.

"They caught him trying to get another convenience store.  An off duty cop was in there.  We were out here for nothing."

Nothing.  The words reverberated through my head aimlessly.  We could have killed each other for nothing.  Nothing.

We walked through the warehouse in the silence.  Mulder was careful not to brush up against me or touch me in any other way.  When he opened the door to the outside the bright sunlight streamed into my face and I put my hand up to shield my eyes.  I squinted and realized that tears had gathered in the corners of my eyes.  I blinked a few times as we got into the car, hoping they would stop.

"You OK, Scully?" Mulder asked me as he started the car.

"I'm fine.  The sun's just so bright..."  I didn't know what else to say.  My throat was tight.

We drove for about 15 minutes in silence.

"Scully, you know, what happened back there..."

"We have to file a report," I answered for him.  "I know."  I touched my fingertips to the corners of my eyes and wiped carefully at the tears.

"Forget about the report, Scully.  Is that all you ever think about?  Following the rules and filing your little reports?"

I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it with a snap.  Against my better judgment I ignored Mulder's cutting remark.  Every instinct was screaming at me to talk to him, try and work this out.  I knew better than most what untouched anger could do.  It would be better to discuss this now, even if we were both upset.  Allowed to fester, it would only get worse.  In the end, I said nothing.  My mind was spinning.  No words would come.

My thoughts didn't slow down enough to form into words until that afternoon, after Mulder and I had parted ways.

"You didn't say anything, Dana?"

"No.  Mulder drove us back to the office and Skinner let us leave after we filed our report.  I haven't spoken to him since then.  That was this morning."

"And you mentioned the incident in your report?"

"We had to.  I'm sure they would have found out eventually, so it was better to be honest about it up front."

"Yet you couldn't be honest with Mulder.  Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know...he was so angry."

"Did that scare you?"

"Yes, in a way.  I'm not scared of Mulder, per se.  I know he would never hurt me.  He was just as frightened as I was.  And I can relate to that.  Most of my anger when I was ill came from fear.  I think we're scared of each other right now."

"Wouldn't talking about it dissipate this fear?"

"It might.  It could also bring everything to a head.  And not in a good way."

"So what I hear you saying is, you're damned if you do and damned if you don't."

"It feels that way sometimes.  We *have* to talk about it eventually, because we're on pins and needles with each other.  Silence will only destroy us; it almost did before.  But you know how I like guarantees, and the outcome of such a conversation is completely unpredictable.  It's either going to be the salvation or the end of my relationship with Mulder.  On all levels.  I don't want to risk that, but I have no choice."

"You always have a choice, Dana."

"Not in my mind.  Old habits die hard but shutting Mulder out is no longer an option for me.  It's just a way of avoiding the issue, and we've done that far too long.  It stops now."

"Very strong words.  It sounds like you feel okay about confronting Mulder."

"Far from it.  I'm terrified.  But I'm going to do it anyway."

I rehearsed little dialogues in my head all the way home.  They were mostly one sided, because I couldn't decide how Mulder would react.  Something was brewing under his stoic surface.  Distrust, almost certainly.  Anger, a good possibility.  Guilt, of course.

What else lurked within the Pandora's box that was my partner?

I didn't have to wait very long to find out.  I came around the corner to find Mulder sitting on the floor in the hallway.  My heart started pounding so hard it hurt.  The moment of truth, waiting on my doorstep.  He looked like he had when he'd come to visit me in the hospital, right after I woke up from my coma.  Scared.  Guilty.  Wary.

I fought the urge to flee.  At least Mulder had been brave enough to come to me.  I had been certain I would have to make the first move.

I walked over to him and extended my hand; he grasped it and I helped him to his feet.  Silently, I unlocked my door and he followed me into my apartment.

Silence for a moment.  Who would be brave enough to start what would surely be an emotional conversation?

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded.  "I'm a little shaky, but I'm doing better."

His eyebrow rose just a notch.

"You're not fine?" he asked.  I could hear the challenge in his voice.  The thinly veiled sarcasm.  Defense mechanism, I reminded myself.  He's not *really* being an asshole.

I took a deep breath and jumped off the cliff.

"No, Mulder, after what happened today, I can't say that I'm fine.  I'm still thinking very hard about it and I expect I will be for awhile."

"Where were you?" he asked.

I resisted the urge to ask him any questions, hoping against hope that he would open up on his own if I did first.  Something was going on.  I just wasn't sure what yet.

"I had a doctor's appointment," I replied.

He nodded.  "How did that go?"

"It went well."

"Did you talk about what happened today?"

We were getting closer to what was bothering him.

"Yes, we did."

"Why couldn't you talk to me about it?"

I felt a flare of annoyance.  I had avoided the subject at first, yes, but it wasn't like he had been all over me to discuss it, either.

"Because, Mulder, you weren't there!  You couldn't wait to get away from me.  As soon as Skinner dismissed us, you were out the door."

He turned away angrily.  This isn't all about me, I reminded myself.  Mulder was hurting too.  It was so easy to forget that sometimes.  It was easy to forget that in many ways, I wasn't the only one taken.

They took part of Mulder with me.  A part I wasn't sure how to give back to him, or even if I had the power to do so.

"I'm here now," he said sulkily, staring out the window.

I breathed out a big sigh.

"Yes, you are.  Do you want to talk about it?"

He turned back to face me, his face dark with emotion.

"Scully..." he trailed off, then began again, "Can I ask you something?"

The anorexia, I thought.  He wants to ask me about the anorexia.  Why I did those things, or something like that.  I steeled myself, lifted my chin to look him straight in the eye, and nodded.

Over the past month I had learned not to be ashamed of having an eating disorder.  My behavior had been abnormal, yes, but to my relief I had discovered a kind of logic behind it.  I had found out that people are usually divided into two groups: either they've been there in some way and they get it, or it's a completely foreign concept to them and they're put off by it.  I hoped Mulder wouldn't fall into the second category.  I didn't think he would.  But I wasn't sure.

His question was unrelated, and caught me completely off guard.

"Why didn't you lower your gun when you saw that it was me?"

I was floored.  I had expected him to go further back to explore the underlying tensions in today's incident.

"I don't know, Mulder...I-I was frightened."

"Of me?"

"No, not of you.  I was just startled, is all.  Both our nerves were on edge.  I heard a noise, and I thought..." I trailed off, uncertain how to continue.  He was staring at me, studying my expression as I was speaking.

I realized he was trying to determine if I was telling the truth.

"Why didn't you lower *your* gun?" I asked, a little too sharply.  Mulder looked at me sadly.

"Because you wouldn't lower yours," he said softly.

"Oh, come on, Mulder, that's hardly---"

"I thought you might shoot me," he whispered.

I gasped.

"You honestly thought...?"

He looked away from me.

"I didn't know, Scully.  I just didn't know."

With an effort, he turned back to me.

"There's a lot I don't know about you since you were returned."

"So ask me."

"Can I?"  A challenge.

"Yes, of course.  I know things have been strained between us, but we're still partners."

"Are we?"

"Do you want us to be?"

"Only if you trust me, Scully."

"I do, Mulder."

"Are you sure?" he asked, fixing me with his most intense stare.

"Yes, Mulder. I trust you."

My answer didn't seem to appease him.  Instead he started pacing.  After a moment of this, lost in his own thoughts, he turned to me again.

"Then why didn't you tell me what was going on with you?  With your...problem, I mean."

"Are your referring to my anorexia, Mulder?  You can say that, you know.  It's okay.  I'm not going to break."  I paused, and sighed.  "I was ashamed, Mulder.  I knew what I was doing was harmful, but in a crazy way I actually thought it would help me deal with my abduction.  So much was taken from me, and I just...just needed to have something *I* could control completely.  I didn't talk to *anyone,* it wasn't about you."

"You didn't trust me," he muttered.

I bit back a sigh of frustration.  Hadn't I just told him seconds ago that I *did* trust him?  I took deep breaths, trying to slow my racing thoughts.  It took a lot for Mulder to believe, I reminded myself.  And he hadn't had the luxury of a therapist to help him figure things out.  It was going to take a lot more than a few stock phrases to restore his faith in me.  I knew that in time, my actions would help me show him, but right now words were all I had.  There were pitifully few of them that seemed appropriate.

"Mulder, that's not true..."

He mumbled something under his breath with a pained frown, so low that I couldn't hear him.  I stepped closer, touched his arm.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, say again?"

He finally raised his head to look at me, and the pain I saw in his eyes was terrible.

"You thought I was one of them," he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

I let my hand drop from his arm, bringing it up to cover my mouth as I gaped at his words.  I didn't know why he would accuse me of such a thing...yet a memory nagged at the edge of my mind, taunting me...

<MULDER, I NEED YOUR HELP! MULDER!>

Duane Barry...no, another time, after that.  He had come through the door this time, not the window...

Then that burning sun.  Mulder dying in front of me. Walking into the water...but that was a dream.

The next thing I remembered after that was waking up in the hospital.

And being told that Mulder had brought me there.

Mulder.  Oh, my God.

My eyes filled with tears as the recollection came into focus.  I had clawed at his face, he'd told me that in the hospital.  I didn't remember screaming anything at him.

Until now.

"Mulder, I'm so sorry," I cried, reaching for him.  He took a few steps backward, eluding my grasp.  I let my arm fall back to my side.

"You called me Duane Barry," he choked out, his own tears escaping to spill down his face.

I was weeping openly now, unable to stand the sight of Mulder in so much pain.  Pain I had caused.

"You kept screaming for me to help you, and I was right there.  I tried, Scully...but you..." he broke down completely, unable to continue.  It hit me then, what all of this had done to him.  I would never be able to understand it, not completely, but I had a better idea now.  If Mulder thought I blamed him, no matter how crazy I was at the time...

I couldn't imagine the guilt he had put upon himself.

I reached out for him.  Hesitated.  Should I, shouldn't I?  He was there for you, I reminded myself.  There is nothing to be afraid of.

I slowly pulled him into my arms.  I held him and absorbed what I could of his grief, as he had done for me.  He stood frozen, only his tight grip on me and the tears falling in my hair betraying his emotions.

When his arms loosened a little I pulled back and guided him into an armchair, kneeling down in front of him so we were eye to eye.

"I don't blame you, Mulder.  I never thought you had anything to do with my abduction.  I didn't know what I was saying when...when you found me.  I'm sorry."

It was the desert, all over again.  Mulder trapped in the landscape of my own anger.  I pushed down my guilt at having left him to wander there alone while I was in the hospital.  It had been necessary for me; perhaps even for Mulder, too.  Whatever the case, that time was over.  We were together now.

I felt as if I had finally come home.

"Scully," he said, raising his eyes from our clasped hands to my face, "I missed you so much."

I knew what he meant.  The words were all inclusive: the time during my absence, and after it.  The separations beyond our control, and those of our own choosing as well.  Each equally painful; both finally over.

***
End 1/1

From Jennifer: I want to thank everyone who wrote to me after "Anger" was posted to share their own stories with me.  It was very gratifying to find out that I touched a personal chord in so many people.  Thank you. :)