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Author's Notes: This became more of a project than I'd ever intended. It just sorta grew on it's own. Send feedback to let me know if my three days slaving over pen and paper and then a computer were worth it. :-)

If you are missing either part of this story, email me and i'll send it to you! thanks, kay.

Disclaimer: Straight simple and to the point: Mulder and Scully are property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably a bunch of other people. If I owned them, I wouldn't need student loans. :-)

A chilled wind battered the window pane in Fox Mulder's apartment, yet he paid it little attention. He sat, slouching on his well-worn couch, and stared dazedly into the space before him. For scant moments at a time he struggled to grasp what had happened to him, but the glimpses of lucidity weren't quite enough.

He had long ago forgotten why he struggled to remember, he only knew that he should. He hadn't any idea how he'd came to be slumped on his couch, or where he'd been before. A glance to his right revealed he must have been gone for some period of time, because yet another generation of goldfish had died and now floated aimlessly in the small lit aquarium.

At some point he realized he didn't feel as lethargic as he did when he first found his bearings. It was only a small improvement, but anything was better than nothing, he decided. Slowly, he rediscovered the use of his limbs, while his memory remained a muddled mystery. Carefully, he stood and began to walk from the couch to his desk. A gray sky hung over the city, obscuring his limited view outside his window. Among the items on the cluttered desktop, he found his attention drawn to two framed photographs.

Without thought, he picked up the first photo and ran his fingers along the oaken fame. A mist formed in his eyes, clouding his vision for a moment. Samantha. Years of guilt and regret washed over his senses anew. Placing the photo down, he looked over at the other. The pair in the picture seemed quite mismatched, yet perfectly aligned somehow. The woman standing beside him radiated an aura of confidence, and her face was as familiar to him as his own. Only he had no idea who she was.

"Damn!" He slammed his palm against the surface of the desk, rattling the computer monitor. An idea struck, and just as quickly he turned on the system and waited impatiently for it to power up. He needed to do something, anything to fill the empty space that had been etched into his memory and his life. After the longest five minutes he thought possible, he sat facing his computer's main screen. His hope turned to disappointment when he realized there was nothing in the files to help him. However, he had gained one piece of information. He found a name. Scully. Was she the woman in the picture? he wondered.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, forming miniature rivers that flowed into his eyes. His eyes stung, but his heart felt void. It was as if he had lost the most valuable presence he had ever known. Looking again at the small framed photographic link to what he had lost, he felt heartsick.

A moment later he stood, intending to decide on what to do next, when he discovered he was truly sick. He felt lightheaded and his arms and legs turned to rubber. As he collapsed, he called out for the one he knew could save him, although he didn't truly know her anymore. The chair he had been sitting in crashed to the floor, partially broken beneath his weight as he too connected with the cold tile.

"Scully . . . " he whispered, as lifeless hazel eyes slid shut.

*****

Dana Scully slammed the front door to her apartment shut. Her weekend had been miserable. The previous Friday Mulder had gone off on a bend about a possible case. The file was concerning a believed alien abduction. As usual, Mulder believed almost without question, whereas she did not. The past several months had been an emotional roller coaster for both of them. In retrospect she had seen it coming, the tempers flaring and resulting argument. In the end, she had stalked off, wanting to escape only into the weekend.

~~Flashback:
The previous Friday. Basement office of Mulder and Scully.~~

"Mulder, believe whatever you'd like. But this is nothing more than a couple of high school sweethearts running off and needing an excuse."

"Scully, why is it one moment you can open your mind to extreme possibility, when it suits you. However, you never find it possible to even meet me halfway?"

Her hands on her hips, she sighed. "With you Mulder, there is no halfway. There's your way, and once in a blue moon there's my way, but never have you strove to meet in the middle." He stared up at her from where he sat behind his desk. She paused when she saw a flicker of emotion within his glowing hazel orbs that she couldn't place.

When she didn't continue, he dropped his gaze to stare at this hands. He couldn't recall, for the moment, why this case had felt so important to cause such an argument. He looked back up at where Scully stood staring daggers at him. He knew he couldn't win, but went ahead anyway. "This is what it comes down to, huh, Scully? Divided not by those that plot against us, but ourselves. Then fine, Scully, if you don't want to be here, don't want to try to believe, leave. Just leave." He tried to mask the break of his heart with venom in his voice.

It only took a moment to discover it had worked. He watched as she visibly stiffened, and her eyes turned cold. He knew she would never leave, even if she really wanted to; so he sought to push her away and give her the opportunity she obviously wanted. It would make her life easier, and his pain would eventually lessen.

"Leave? You would just throw away five years of work, of partnership, of . . . of friendship? Mulder, if I walk out of that door now, there's now guarantee that I'll ever come back."

A hoarse whisper answered her. "Follow your heart, Scully. It will lead you to the truth."

She blinked slowly, turned to pick up her purse and jacket and walked away, her heels clicking on the hallway tile. Her anger had begun to subside, but her confusion was only beginning.

~~End Flashback~~

Now two days later she had no answers to her seemingly unending questions. She had stopped trying to guess where such a routine disagreement had turned sour. Lunch the day before with her Mom had done little to help the situation. Maggie Scully had noted with concern the change in her daughter. She had been quick to anger, only to then apologize profusely. She knew only Fox could have been at the heart of such a change, only Dana refused to talk about him.

Scully had already decided that she would go back to the office the next morning. What she hadn't decided was what she would say then. Mulder could be so exasperating at times she wanted to scream, but he had moments so endearing she had no question why he was her best friend. She had never felt such a connection with another.

Reaching for the telephone she punched in Mulder's number, for some reason she felt compelled to attempt to bridge the gap. After several rings he hadn't answered, nor had his machine picked up. Hanging up the phone, a strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Ominous feelings were something she had grown accustomed to since being assigned to work with Mulder. Instinct alone drove her to change into some jeans and a sweater and make the drive over to Mulder's place in Alexandria. She wasn't sure why, but something didn't feel right.

When she arrived at Mulder's apartment building, she noted with dismay his car was there and appeared as if it hadn't been moved since Friday evening. She jogged from her car to the building and headed to the stairs. Nearing the door labeled number 42, she slowed to a walk. Something wasn't right, she was sure of it; however, it was unwise to run into a situation blind. She knocked on the door, and continued with increasing urgency. She called his name again and again, finally resorting to using the spare key he had given her.

After she opened the door, she noted the only source of light was the lit fish tank. It was then she saw the prone form of her partner lying on the floor beside his desk, which looked as if an earthquake had hit it. Rushing to his side, she knelt beside him and tried to find a pulse. Relief flooded her when she felt the faint rhythm beneath her fingers. Her initial relief passed when she continued to check him. She could feel that he had a high fever and he was totally unresponsive to both her touch and voice. Fumbling around in her jacket pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and punched 911.

She sat down on the floor beside Mulder, placing his head on her lap and began to run her fingers through his sweat soaked hair. The wait for the ambulance was a long one, there was little she could do to help other than to be there if he woke up. Eventually, Scully heard the familiar sounds of a medical team approaching Mulder's apartment. She was forced back away from him as the team worked. When they had him moved onto a stretcher, she followed as they left the building. Getting into her car, she sat behind the wheel for a moment, just staring out into space. Quickly she regained her bearings and pulled out behind the ambulance.

When she reached the hospital, she was forced into the waiting room by an emergency room nurse. She paced for several minutes, hating the feeling of helplessness. Again, she pulled out her cell phone, only this time she dialed Assistant Director Skinner. A groggy voice answered on the other end of the connection. "Skinner."

Clearing her throat she began, "Sir, this is Agent Scully. There's been an incident involving Agent Mulder. He's just been brought into the hospital."

Suddenly wide awake, Skinner sat up listening to Scully as she described how she found Mulder. "It looked like someone else had been in the apartment, but my attention was focused on Mulder at the time. I'm not sure how long he had been like that," she concluded.

"Do you have any idea, or even a guess, how he came to be in this position?"

Tiredly, Scully sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting area. "No, Sir. I'm hoping he'll be able to tell me when he wakes up. Uh, Sir, I need to go. I see the doctor walking in this direction."

"Keep me informed, Agent Scully."

"Yes, Sir. Goodnight, Sir." Scully punched end on the phone. Standing she walked over to meet the doctor handling Mulder's case. "How is he?"

"You're," she paused looking down among some papers in her hands. "Agent Scully?" Scully nodded, growing impatient. "Your partner is serious but stable. The sooner he regains consciousness, the better. He apparently received a blow to the head recently, but I don't believe that is what is the cause of his being unconscious. He has a bacterial infection that we can't quite explain, which is causing a very high fever. We're doing what we can, but right now we're a bit lost. As it stands for the moment, we're continuing with regular treatments for this type of infection."

Scully listened as the doctor explained Mulder's condition. She wished she knew what could have happened since only Friday to have caused him to be so sick. "Can I see him?"

The doctor looked at the exhausted agent before her. "Yes, but be prepared for seeing him just lying there hooked up to so many machines." She was taken by surprise when Scully actually laughed.

"Doctor, you have no idea just how much preparation I do have. He has a talent for getting into trouble. And he will be a nightmare to deal with when he wakes up, if history serves as any lesson." Both noticed her use of when and not if he wakes up. Scully couldn't bring herself to even voice the possibility that he might not wake up. Mulder always pulls through. Nodding her head, the doctor motioned for her to follow. Soon, Scully found herself standing in the ICU. After a moment she pushed aside the curtain between Mulder and herself.

Memories washed over her, seeing Mulder lying there reminded her of the other numerous occasions she had stood guard at his bedside. And he at hers as well. Except most of those other times, she hadn't walked out on him just beforehand. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she pulled up a chair to sit beside his bed.

"Come on, Mulder. Wake up. They're doing everything they can out here, they rest is up to you. Come on, partner. You can't leave things between us like this, we need to talk." She took a steading breath and continued to talk to him. "Wake up and I won't even roll my eyes if you start flinging innuendo, I won't even make fun of those movies that aren't yours. But this is a limited time offer, bud, so wake up soon to take advantage of it."

She continued to talk to Mulder throughout the night, and was about to resort to pleading when she saw his head move just slightly. "Mulder?" Blinking slowly, he opened his eyes completely and turned just a bit to look at her. "Mulder? Can you talk to me?" Seeing him attempt to lick his lips, she found some water for him to sip. "Better?" He nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "Mulder?" She tried again, "What happened to you?"

She searched his eyes, concerned by the strange look she saw there. "I... I'm sorry. I know I should know you, but I don't remember. You're Scully, right?" Her eyes widened in shock as she took in what he was saying. For an instant, he thought he could see her heart crack through her soft blue eyes.

"You don't remember me?" she whispered. "But how do you know my name?" Her mind was whirling, she couldn't manage to grasp what Mulder was telling her.

He nodded, very carefully, in response to her first question. To the latter he lowered his eyes and whispered, "I found a picture of us. I knew you, or rather I knew I should know you, because at the same time I didn't know you either. It's hard to explain. I found a mention of you in one of the files on my computer and the name seemed right somehow. I'm sorry." The last was a whisper so faint, she had trouble hearing it over the beeps and chirps of the machines in the room.

Again she found herself struggling to control her tears. She couldn't think of how they might help the situation. Absentmindedly she brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead, as if realizing a mistake she dropped her hand back down into her lap. "Don't be sorry, Mulder. I'm sure you didn't ask to forget. How much do you remember?"

Scully watched as his eyes appeared to focus far away. A couple of moments later he spoke. "I remember my sister, and I remember working for the FBI. In fact, most of my life I can recall perfectly. Even a few details of the past few years are there, just nothing that has to do with you." The look on her face nearly broke his heart, he could only guess as to how deep a connection they must have shared. He could visibly see her struggle for control of her emotions, somehow he knew that control was a fundamental part of her character.

She looked away for a moment, and when she looked at her best friend again, it was with as much clinical detachment as she could manage. To the lost man in the bed, it appeared as if a mask had fallen over the fair features. "Mulder, you have to help me. Can you remember anything, anything at all from this weekend? You have to try if we're going to figure out what happened to you. Will you try?" She searched his face for a sign, of what she didn't know, yet she continued. What she saw was weariness covering his silent features. When he didn't respond, she continued. "If you can't help me, I'm not sure how I'll figure this one out."

"Just follow your heart."

Her head shot up, and she stared at him. "What did you say?" He was taken aback by her fierce whisper. "Never mind. Where did it come from? Mulder?" She was close to losing her fragile hold of the control she so valued, but for the moment she didn't care.

Confusion etched every feature on his face. He had no idea why what he had said upset her so greatly. It had just felt right. "It didn't come from anywhere, except inside. Why?" He tried to find the answer in her eyes, but found none. "Tell me, please."

She sighed. "That was the last thing you said to me the last time I saw you before this." She punctuated her remark with a gesture of her hands indicating where he lay in the hospital bed.

A knock on the door interrupted the strained conversation, and Scully turned to see Assistant Director Skinner hovering just outside in the hallway. "Sir. Come in. Mulder, do you remember A.D. Skinner?" A confusion similar to Scully's initial reaction flickered across the assistant director's eyes. When Mulder nodded his head yes, both men saw the hurt flare in Scully's eyes. "Okay. That's good. It's a start. Sir, can I speak with you outside?" She stood when he motioned toward the hallway with his arm. "Mulder, we'll be right outside the room."

Her gaze seared into his, yet he gelt only guilt at not being able to remember her, while he had recognized Skinner. He resigned himself to staring at the ceiling until he remembered something. He concentrated, and tried not to hear her voice as it echoed in the hallway. Echo, why did that idea make him cringe?

Outside of Mulder's room, Scully conferred with Skinner. An investigative team had been sent to Mulder's apartment soon after she'd called to alert him to the situation. While they were speaking, the doctor Scully had spoken to the night before stopped to check on Mulder, and ordered for him to be transferred to a private room. Soon after the details were dealt with, Scully stopped to finish speaking with Skinner.

"So what did the team find at his apartment, anything?" Scully crossed her arms in front of herself, expecting the usual findings of nothing.

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before he began to speak. "It appears as if Agent Mulder struck his head against the edge of the kitchen counter. There was evidence to substantiate that much. It appears to have happened late Friday night. There was also evidence of a robbery. Cash and credit cards were missing from his wallet, as well at other small belongings it appeared. It is possible that it was a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Is it ever truly that easy where Mulder is concerned, Sir?"

"Only he can tell us for sure, Agent Scully."

"And he can't remember," she stated.

"What exactly can't he remember?" His earlier confusion had yet to be abated.

"It appears as if whatever occurred to him this weekend led to a type of selective amnesia. He can remember everything except this weekend, and . . . " She paused, not wanting to actually voice the thought. "Me. He can't remember anything to do with me."

The tall agent looked at the visibly shaken agent before him. His instincts were telling him there was something she wasn't telling him. However, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Shanking his head, he spoke. "Okay, so what do you think would be the best to do now?"

Shaking her head sadly, she conceded, "For the time being we should just wait and see if his memory returns."

"And if it doesn't?"

"I don't know, Sir." With that she turned and walked into Mulder's room, leaving Skinner almost as confused as he was when he arrived. With a final look into Mulder's room, he turned and walked down the hallway.

He was sleeping when she walked into his new room. For a moment, she paused to look at the man lying before her. In so many ways he helped define what her life had become, much to Bill, Jr.'s chagrin. But most importantly, he was her friend, her best friend whom she didn't want to lose to anything. Least of all a knock on his amazingly thick skull.

Slowly Mulder began to awaken, his gaze filtered across the room and stopped on Dana Scully's face. He could tell she was lost some place else in thought, but didn't know where to even begin guessing. For the moment, he was content to just watch and let the cobwebs come clear in their own time. Time ran out when her hopeful blue eyes settled onto his hazel ones. He looked away quickly, unable to hold her gaze when it was filled with disappointment.

Mulder settled for looking in the general direction of the window but could feel her stare even then. Her sudden move surprised him, especially when he felt her hand tugging on the neckline of his hospital gown. "Hey, Scully? Trying to get into my clothes now, huh?" The comment, accompanied by a genuine Mulder smirk, was out even before he had time to think it. Still, he could read in her eyes it was somehow familiar of the times before.

"You wish, Mulder." She replied as casually as possible. She did want the innuendo tossing Mulder back, but she wanted her innuendo tossing Mulder back. "Tell me, is this sore?" She probed gently around a knot that had formed just below his collarbone and had been hidden by his gown until he had moved. His sharp intake of breath was answer enough as she continued to examine the area. "I don't guess you would happen to know when this showed up would you?"

Pain still showed on his face, even after she was finished checking the afflicted area. He closed his eyes tight to both help diminish the pain and will the memories back into his head. The former came to some success while the latter failed miserably. "Sorry," he said finally. "I don't remember. Do you know what it is?"

Scully recognized Mulder's puppy dog face when she saw it. Usually it meant he was trying to get his way, but now it was different. Now it was as if he was seeking approval or forgiveness of some sort. He just ended up looking lost and alone. She knew their argument had upset them both, and a small part of her was relieved he didn't remember, but the rest would give anything to be able to take that lost look away. She again forced to the back of her mind the possibility that he had only forgotten her because of their disagreement. He couldn't have been that angry, she had to believe, but was it possible he'd been that upset? Believe? Ha. She laughed to herself.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she sought to answer his question. She just wished that she did know what it was. "Mulder, I'm not sure. But I have an idea, I'd almost bet that . . . " She paused talking as she leaned to get a closer view of the area, her auburn hair falling across Mulder's face. Standing up, she paused for a minute to think. "It was what I thought. There's a small injection mark in the center of the swollen area. That could explain the infection and the fever. Also why they still aren't sure what the infection is." As she spoke, Mulder's eyes grew larger and larger, as if for a moment he couldn't fathom why someone would want to inject him with something. Again, he wondered just what he'd missed in those lost memories.

"Mulder, I'm going to go find Dr. Robertson, all right?" He nodded his head, and she turned, her even strides carrying her out of his room and down the hall. A stop at the nurses station and she asked where she could find Dr. Robertson. Five minutes later, she found her. A brief discussion about Scully's discovery later, the two began to walk back to Mulder's room.

Scully's heart fell into her stomach when she heard a commotion coming from inside Mulder's room. Breaking into a run, she turned the corner into his room to discover Skinner fighting with a man beside her partner's bed. Amongst the chaos a shrill noise pierced the air and Scully's heart skipped a beat as her eyes flew to the heart monitor. In a daze she saw Skinner forcing the intruder out into the hallway rather roughly. She was forced to follow them by a well-meaning nurse. Calm but intense voices reached out to her from inside the room, the sounds of charge paddles echoed as the team struggled to revive Mulder.

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