Hearts (PG)
by Donna

 
 Mulder turned from his refrigerator drinking the last of the orange juice from 
the container. Now the refrigerator was officially empty, he’d have to go to the 
grocery today. He needed to do laundry too. Boy, weekends were so exciting.
He heard the knock at his door. He finished the juice and headed for the door.
"Who is it?" Another project, he still needed that damn peephole. No answer, he 
picked up his gun from the coffee table. When he opened the door, no one was 
there, but a package fell into the room from where it had been leaning against 
the door. Mulder ignored the package and stepped into the hall, no one - and the 
elevator was closed.
He turned and carefully picked up the package. Addressed to him, no return. 
Well. . . He carried the box to the coffee table and began his investigation of 
it. He finally opened the package, being careful not to destroy the packaging.
When he opened the inner carton, he felt the surge of adrenaline. He knew his 
weekend wasn’t going to be routine or boring.
Hot Damn! Scully needed to see this! He grabbed his phone and punched her 
number. Damn, her machine, try the cellular. Cellular not in service. Shit. He 
called her machine back.
"Scully, call me. You won’t believe what was just delivered here."
He couldn’t wait. He dialed Skinner’s home number.
"Hello?"
"Sir, its Mulder. Sorry to disturb you but I need you to authorize some overtime 
for this weekend."
"Mulder, I’m off-duty. What is this all about?"
"Someone just delivered a heart to my apartment. And I believe it’s a human 
heart."
"A human heart. Someone delivered a human heart to your apartment?"
"Yes sir."
"What does Scully say?"
"I haven’t been able to locate her yet. It is Saturday."
"I know that. You want to take it on in?"
"Yeah, have the lab start testing, then Scully can finish it up when she gets my 
message."
"If you find out it’s from a mutilated cow, you’re gonna eat this 
investigation."
"Yes sir. Thank you."
"Let me know." He hung up the phone. Only Mulder would get something like that 
delivered to him. It damn well better be a mutilated cow sent by one of his 
weird friends as a joke. He had bitten hard if it was a practical joke. Skinner 
hadn’t heard him that excited in a long time. He shook his head and went back to 
his to do list.
Yes! All domestic thoughts were gone from his mind. He reassembled the package 
and took off for the office.
He arrived at the lab, and grabbed the first tech he found. He explained what he 
wanted and left the heart, then took the wrappings down to his office for his 
own investigation.
When he looked up again it had been over two hours. Damn, why hadn’t Scully 
called? She’d want to be in on this. Maybe she was at her mother’s. He’d give it 
a try.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Scully, hi. I’m trying to find Scully. Is she there?
"Hi, Fox. No I haven’t seen her today. Is everything okay?"
"Oh yeah, everything’s fine. I just got a new case and I’m anxious to tell her 
about it."
"Oh, well if she calls or comes by I’ll tell her you’re looking for her. When 
are you coming to see me?"
"It has been too long, I’m sorry. If this new case doesn’t take us out of town 
I’ll be over this week, I promise."
"I’m going to hold you to that, Fox."
He grinned, Scully was so lucky. "You won’t have to – I’m inviting myself to 
dinner."
"Give me half a hour’s notice and I’ll fix your favorites."
"You got it. And I’ll have Scully call you." He hung up and tried her again. He 
didn’t bother to leave another message. Then decided to go check on the lab’s 
progress.
*****
"Agent Mulder, this stuff takes time. We know it is a human heart, and a blood 
type of O+. The DNA is in the computer for matching, but that’s a long shot. 
You’re just going to have to wait."
*****
"Did you want to see me, sir?" God, Skinner looked awful. He was positively 
gray, was he having a heart attack? His eyes were red and hollow looking and 
there were beads of sweat on his brow. He hadn’t mentioned coming in today when 
they had talked.
"Are you all right?"
"Sit down, Mulder."
He complied, "What is it?"
"I have some news. I. . . the lab sent me the information on the heart you 
received. They found a match on the DNA."
"They contacted you?"
"Yes. That’s SOP when it’s one of ours."
"One of. . . Sir, please, who?"
"The. . . " Shit, Skinner took a breath and wiped a hand across his forehead. 
"The DNA belongs to Agent Scully. Dana’s heart was delivered to you."
Mulder sat there, staring for a long moment.
"No sir. That’s not possible. I. . . I. . ." He’d been thrilled, hell, he’d 
practically played with. . . Mulder bolted from the chair and rushed to 
Skinner’s private bath. Skinner sat and listened to him retch, unable to rise to 
help him. He lowered his face into his hands.
He heard Mulder stumble back into his office and collapse onto his couch.
"The. . . " Mulder stopped to clear his throat. "There’s been a mistake. The 
tests need to be redone."
"I’ve already ordered it. However, the lab ran it twice before they brought it 
to me. We can wait a short while, but her mother. . . "
"No! No, you can’t tell Mrs. Scully this. Not. . . not yet." He couldn’t get his 
breath and was unaware of the tears running down his own face. He’d been excited 
over the delivery, thankful to be taken out of the domestic routine. There was a 
mistake, there had to be.
"It’s not true. I would know if Scully were dead. Damn it, I’d know. She’s not!"
"Mulder. . . "
"She’s not!" He somehow managed to get to his feet.
"Give me your keys, Mulder."
"What?"
"Give me your car keys, you’re not going to drive. And your weapon."
"I’m going to the lab."
"You’ll be in the way. Just stay here."
"No! Goddamn it, there’s been a mistake. It might be deliberate."
"Mulder. . . " Skinner shook his head, unable to gain the control he so prided 
himself on. He hadn’t been this shaken since. . . hell, he’d never been this 
shaken. He had known his feelings for Scully were more than they should be for 
an agent under his supervision, but this man. . . this man wouldn’t survive 
this. He didn’t have a clue what to do for him.
They sat is silence for a short while, then Mulder roused, "Her apartment?"
"I have men there now."
"But they wouldn’t know if anything was out of place."
"No, you can go over later, but I wanted someone else to go in first."
Mulder nodded without looking up. A tap at the door brought them both back from 
their thoughts.
"Director Skinner? These are the lab reports you requested."
Mulder had managed to gain his feet and snatched the papers from the 
technician’s hand.
Skinner turned to the tech, "Were there any differences?"
"None, Sir. I’m sorry."
"I want a copy of everything, and a tissue sample. All of it!"
The technician glanced over at Skinner, who nodded.
"I’ll get everything together for you, Agent Mulder. It won’t take very long. 
I’ll bring it here."
Mulder had to grab the back of the chair when the man shut the door in order to 
remain on his feet. He finally seated himself again.
"What are you going to do with the copies?"
"Find the error."
Skinner didn’t respond. When the technician returned Mulder checked the contents 
and headed for the door.
"Mulder, I wasn’t kidding. I want your keys and your weapons, both of them."
Mulder nearly refused, he might have need for a weapon. But he had access.
Skinner himself called a taxi for him. His own shock was beginning to wane, and 
the pain increase. Pain he could cope with.
*****
Mulder gave the address for the Gunmen’s apartment, and when he got to the door, 
pounded on it.
"Open up! Byers, let me in!"
The door flew open, "What the hell is up?" Frohike demanded as Mulder pushed 
past him.
"Check this. I need you to do a DNA match on this material."
"Match against whose?"
"Just run it through your database."
"Okay, okay. Tell me what this tissue is, at least."
"It’s a heart."
The three men exchanged glances but asked no more questions. Mulder slumped into 
a chair as far from them as possible.
Except for a few muffled comments, silence reigned over the apartment. Even 
Frohike realized conversation would be inappropriate. 
When the information flashed up on his screen it took Byers several seconds to 
reconcile the data in his brain. Then he paled noticeably and caught Langly’s 
eye to direct him to the screen. Frohike’s low moan caused Mulder to look up.
He was on his feet, charging at Byers. Before anyone could react he had Byers by 
the lapels, yanking him out of the chair and slamming him into the wall. "Don’t 
tell me it’s her! Goddamn it, it’s not Scully!" He was screaming in his face. 
Langly and Frohike grabbed his arms and tried to pull him off.
"It’s cloned! It’s got to be cloned tissue!"
"Mulder." Langly tried to break his grip. "The definition of clone means they’d 
be identical. You can’t tell the original from the duplicate. I don’t know of 
any test. . . " Suddenly he and Frohike found themselves supporting Mulder’s 
body rather than pulling at him.
"On the bed." Byers said, as he lifted his legs.
"Should we call. . . "
"He’s just passed out. Do you blame him? Get him on the bed."
Byers sat with him while Langley continued work on the computer and Frohike 
poured himself a stiff drink.
With consciousness came memory and as always with him, complete memory. His body 
arched in pain.
"Mulder! Mulder, please."
The other two raced into the room, but Mulder was racked by violent shaking, his 
body nearly convulsing. His three friends were at a total loss, they didn’t know 
how to face this kind of grief. Byers was surreptitiously wiping his own eyes 
until he realized Langly and Frohike were crying freely.
When the storm finally passed, Langly got Mulder a glass of water from the 
bathroom, but no words were spoken.
He attempted to rise from the bed, but sheer physical exhaustion prevented it.
"Just stay still, Mulder. You don’t need to go anywhere."
"No, I have to see her mother. I need to tell her. . . tell her what everyone 
believes." He managed to sit up and put his feet on the floor. "I need to borrow 
your keys."
"No way. You can’t drive."
"I have to go." His three friends exchanged glances.
"I’ll take you there." Byers said. They helped him to the car. Mulder started to 
give the address, but Byers waved him off.
"You know her address?"
"Yeah, when you guys are out of town we keep an eye on her. We know she’s 
special to you."
"Does she know?"
"No, we’re more careful than that, Mulder."
He closed his eyes and remained silent the rest of the way.
*****
When they arrived, Byers parked and started to get out of the car.
"I can do this. Thanks. . . I’ll. . . "
Byers nodded, and Mulder let himself out of the car. He approached the door like 
someone at least 100 years old, and rang the bell.
Mrs. Scully opened the door. She’d obviously been crying but she pulled Mulder 
into the house. "Thank God! I was so worried about you. Oh Fox." She threw her 
arms around him and he managed to remain on his feet. When he reopened his eyes 
he saw Skinner coming toward him. Together, Skinner and Mrs. Scully got him to 
the sofa.
He let the words wash over him. Bill on the red-eye, Charlie coming tomorrow. 
Memorial service to be planned. Inside he was screaming, but he held his 
comments. It wasn’t hard, really, his voice didn’t seem to be working right. 
Skinner kept watching him, didn’t he remember that he was holding his guns. 
Soup? How did that get in his hand? Swallow. Make the fluid go down. Right, 
swallow again. Didn’t he use to know how to do this?
"Mulder, can you hear me?" Skinner was sitting beside him. "Do you want me to 
take you home?"
"Walter, no. He’s staying here."
"No." Mulder struggled to answer, this conversation he understood. "I need to 
get home."
"You are staying with me tonight. I need you here. Please, Mulder."
She needed him? Why would anyone need him? Everyone that needed him died. He’d 
better get away from her.
"Mulder, take these." Two pills had appeared in Skinner’s hand. 
He shook his head, they wouldn’t be enough.
"Take them. Come on, Mulder." He swallowed them without bothering to ask what 
they were. He would find what he needed later. "I’ll put him to bed, Maggie. Try 
to finish your soup, you’ll need your strength."
Why was Skinner taking his clothes? What the hell? But this wasn’t Skinner’s 
apartment, was it? He was getting sleepy. No! If he went to sleep he’d dream. He 
couldn’t dream tonight. Please, no dreams tonight. . . 
*****
Langly looked up when Byers entered the apartment. "How’s Mulder?"
"Walking dead. Shit, if he saw an autopsy, why is he so convinced. . . "
"No autopsy, no body. I’ve been reading the files he brought. The heart was 
delivered to his apartment. He didn’t know whose it was until the DNA match came 
up."
"Oh god. No wonder. . . wait a minute."
Frohike and Langly waited. "If there was no body he could be right. I mean, it 
could be a clone as easily as original. And this way no one would be looking for 
her."
"Except us." Langly added. "Frohike, where are your pictures of Scully?"
*****
It was Tuesday and the memorial service was over. Mulder had vague memories of 
Skinner on one side of him and Byers on the other. Now he was back at Mrs. 
Scully’s home. He heard voices in the kitchen saying dark things, but that was 
okay it was getting darker everywhere.
"Mom, we want you to come stay with us for a while. You shouldn’t be alone and 
you can play with the baby. It’ll be good for you."
"I appreciate your offer, really I do, but I can’t leave now, Bill. Fox needs 
me, he’s completely lost."
"Fox needs you! Fox is the reason for all of this! He’s cost you two daughters 
and me two sisters, and you want to stay in town to look after him?"
"Bill, be quiet. That man loved your sister beyond all reason. He’s devastated."
"He has a mother of his own."
"Not really. I mean. . . Bill, their relationship isn’t very good. I’m going to 
stay as long as he needs me. I’ll come visit and soon, but you didn’t think I 
was going to move out there or anything, did you? Bill, I have a life here. 
We’re dropping this conversation, I don’t want Fox to hear you."
Bill slammed his coffee mug down on the counter and left the kitchen. He 
immediately spotted Mulder on the couch. Shit, he’d probably heard everything. 
And Mulder was obviously torn up, why couldn’t he feel sorry for him?
"Hey, Mulder, I’m sorry. I’m upset and. . . Mulder? Mulder can you hear me? 
Mom!" He waved his hand in front of Mulder’s face. The eyes were open, but he 
didn’t respond.
"Fox, can you hear me? Oh Bill, what. . . "
"I think he’s catatonic, Mom."
"Call Walter, he’ll know what to do."
*****
After his admission to the hospital, on suicide alert, Skinner sent Maggie and 
Bill home and promised to keep them informed. Skinner watched him through the 
glass in the door and shook his head. That brilliant, tortured mind – hell, he 
might be better off dead.

*****


She woke feeling strangely weak, with a splitting headache. The light in the 
room was glaring and there was so much activity out in the hall. What was going 
on? 
"Well hello. Nice to see you’re back with us. Headache?"
When she tried to speak, her voice croaked and shaking her head didn’t seem a 
wise course of action, so she didn’t respond. He placed a straw in her mouth and 
the cool water tasted like ambrosia. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Thanks." She managed to whisper.
"You’re welcome. I’m Dr. Hickman and I’ve been looking after you." This man 
looked like a caricature of a country doctor, white hair and kindly face. The 
phrase, ’but I play one on TV’, came to her mind.
"Doctor? Where am I?"
"You’re in the hospital. Someone dropped you off unconscious so we don’t have a 
lot of details."
"Dropped me. . . ?"
"Why don’t we start at the beginning. What’s your name?"
"I’m. . . " her eyes grew bigger and the color left her face. "I. . . I. . . "
"Now wait, I don’t want you to panic." He took her hand, patting it, trying to 
calm her. "You’re been unconscious for three days that we know about, and 
possibly longer. I find no head injuries, so you’re probably just confused due 
to being out for so long. I don’t want you to start thinking the worst." 
"But I don’t know my name!"
"Let me tell you what we know about you, okay?" He hadn’t let go of her hand, 
continuing to try to reassure her.
At her nod he continued, "You’re a very pretty young woman, red hair, late 
twenties, I’d guess. You seem perfectly healthy, from the tests we were able to 
perform here. You were not allowed to become dehydrated, so someone was looking 
after you and brought you to us when they needed help. You have no bruises or 
contusions."
"Was I drugged?"
"That’s a possibility and we did do some blood work, but our facilities here are 
limited under the best of circumstances. I have to admit you could have been, 
but there haven’t been any signs of toxicity and all of your vital signs have 
been good from the beginning."
"Where am I?"
"You’re in Carbury, North Dakota."
"North. . . North Dakota?"
"Doesn’t sound familiar, huh? Well, your accent certainly isn’t from around 
here."
"Hasn’t anyone asked about me or come looking for me?"
"Now they may have, Dear. You were discovered in the waiting room after visiting 
hours on Sunday evening. About two hours later, we were hit by an ice storm that 
is still going. We have no electricity and no phones in the county. This is a 
30-bed hospital that has been turned into a shelter because we have generators. 
Everyone in the nation could be looking for you and not able to get to us to 
tell us."
"Oh. But the police. . . "
"We have a sheriff and two part-time deputies. They’re out evacuating people. I 
know you’re anxious, but give us a couple of days. We’ll get this all sorted 
out. In the meantime, I’m going to send someone up to talk to you."
"A psychiatrist?"
"Well, actually, we don’t have one. I thought my wife. . . "
At that she actually smiled. "Thank you. Whatever you think is best."
Dr. Hickman squeezed her hand, winked and left. Shortly, a small woman tapped on 
her door and stuck her head in.
"Hello, I’m Hazel, Doc’s wife. May I come in?"
"Of course. I was just looking out the window. It does look bad out there."
"Worst in twenty years they’re saying, but next year’s will be worst still, so I 
quit comparing them. Doc thought you might like someone to talk to."
"Well, I don’t have a lot to say. I can’t even remember my name."
"You’re remarkably calm about that."
"You didn’t see me earlier. I’ve decided I can’t do anything right now to find 
out, so I’ll cocoon myself and wait."
"Good attitude. Why don’t you tell me what you do remember."
They talked a bit, Hazel occasionally asking a question. Nothing was coming up 
until she hit on a new tact.
"Are you married?"
She paused, "Yes, yes I am." She smiled.
"Well, that’s definitive. Do you remember his name?"
"No. . . no, it won’t come."
"You seem pleased about it, I’m guessing it’s a good marriage. He’s probably 
worried to death right now and giving the police a terrible time."
"Yes. Isn’t it strange? Even though I don’t remember a name he’s the one thing I 
feel confident about."
"Well, that’s enough pushing for now. Why don’t you come out and meet the 
neighbors? I think we’re all here, and there’s not really anyone to bring you 
meals."
"There’s no reason to serve me. I feel fine, so I might as well be up and try to 
get some stamina back."
Hazel located a robe for her and took her out to introduce her to the crowd. It 
was actually several hours before she made it back to the room she was now 
sharing with several young women, and she felt a great deal better. These people 
didn’t know her at all, but they had heard of her problem and gone out of their 
way to make her feel comfortable. She hoped she came from a place like this. It 
felt warm, she just wished it also felt familiar. Why couldn’t she remember her 
husband’s name? Or her own for that matter? What had happened to her to cause 
this? There was no trauma to her body that Dr. Hickman could find. It just made 
no sense at all.
The next day was much the same. A few more people arrived and she was finally 
able to meet the sheriff. He promised to get to her problem as soon as he could, 
but he was obviously overwhelmed with what was already facing him.
She had found that she didn’t care for the name Jane, so when someone called her 
‘Red’ it stuck. She borrowed a uniform from the storeroom and was actually 
feeling almost normal as she headed for the cafeteria.
"Nurse! Nurse, my husband!"
She turned at the frantic call. This man was having a heart attack. She raced to 
his side and began instructing the others in the crowd of how to assist her.
"Find the crash cart, it should be in emergency. Stat!" She began CPR, grabbing 
a young man to trade off with her. When the cart appeared she grabbed the 
defibrillator pads, and ran the dial up to 300. "Clear!"
She jolted the patient and felt for a pulse. Try again.
"Clear!" She sent the second jolt through him and was rewarded with a faint 
heartbeat. "Get a blood pressure cuff on him."
It was then she noticed that Dr. Hickman had somehow become her assistant. "Yes, 
Doctor." He responded with a quick wink. She fell back and allowed Dr. Hickman 
to transfer the man out of the hall and into an examining room.
She began to tremble, the young man that had helped her with the CPR put his arm 
around her and led her to a chair. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, unable to speak. A few minutes later Dr. Hickman sat down beside 
her.
"Dwight’s going to be fine. You did a good job. Do you remember anything?"
She shook her head, then, "I could have killed him."
"You saved him."
"But I didn’t know. . . "
"Obviously you did, and you reacted instinctively. I’m awfully glad you were 
here. You need to relax, let’s get you something to eat."
At least a dozen people came up to thank and congratulate her while she 
attempted to swallow her sandwich. If she could remember how to do that, damn it 
what was her name!
During the night the storm broke and crews were finally able to get out and 
begin the massive repair. She had been missing for at least five days with no 
word.
The phones came up first.
*****
"Jeff, wake up!"
"What? Shit, it’s not even light yet."
"The phones are working."
"So?"
"So we can get back on-line."
"They’ll kill us."
"Not if they don’t find out. Come on."
The two boys slipped quietly from the room. They grabbed the laptop from where 
they had stashed it and headed downstairs to an office in the basement.
"Yes!" Josh clapped Jeff on the back. "Finally!"
"Look at the spam." They scrolled down, noting real notes from several friends.
"Hey, what’s this one?" Jeff pointed to a message flashing "Have You Seen Her?"
"Probably porn, let’s see." They clicked on it, and watched a face being painted 
on the screen.
"It’s only a head shot, what a gyp!"
"But isn’t that. . . isn’t that the lady that saved your uncle?"
"No, why would she be on the net?"
"I think it is her. Look at it."
"Yeah, it looks like her, but why would she be here?"
"Well, they say she doesn’t remember her name. Maybe her family’s looking for 
her. What’s it say?"
"There’s an email address. What do you think?
"Go ahead."
"What should I say?"
"Ask them if she’s a doctor."
"Okay." Josh composed a short email and hit send.
"We can’t wait for a reply. We’ll have to check back later." They signed off and 
snuck back into their room.
It was several hours before they were able to get alone again with a phone line. 
There were seven responses to their email. Each increasingly frantic.
[Chill guys. We’re back on-line.] Josh wrote.
The answer came back immediately. [Where are you?]
"Should we tell them?"
"I don’t know. We hit the jackpot when we asked if she was a doctor. What if 
she’s hiding from them?" That stopped them both. 
"We need to find out who they are."
[We’re friends. Tell her Byers is helping locate her.]
[She won’t know Byers, she doesn’t even know her own name.]
[Are you serious? Is she okay?]
[Yeah, she just can’t remember her name. Where’s she from?]
[DC. Tell us where you are, I’ll come get her. She needs to come home. Her 
family thinks she’s dead.]
"I think we should tell them."
"Yeah, yeah go ahead."
[Carbury, North Dakota]
[What’s the nearest airport?]
[The nearest would be Minot, but it’s an air force base. Then you have at least 
an hour and half drive, if the roads are clear. What’s her name?]
[Dana Scully. I’ll take the next flight out, but it’ll probably be tomorrow 
before I can get there. Let her know I’m coming.]
*****
Byers turned to the guys. "Okay, if it is her, she’s in North Dakota in the 
middle of west nowhere, but near an airforce base. Why don’t I like the sound of 
that?"
"Maybe we should tell Skinner."
"He’d think we were crazy, more so than usual. He’s convinced Scully is dead 
because of the evidence he’s seen. He’s not going to listen to us."
"Well that means one of us has to go get her and bring her back. What do our 
funds look like?"
"Meager as usual. What if it’s not her? We can’t afford to go traipsing around 
the country."
"This is the only lead we’re received that sounds legit. And we owe Mulder big 
time. If they’ve taken her memories she might never find her way home alone. I 
say we take the chance. It’s only money and we’ve been without before."
"Yeah. I agree. Who should go?" Langley and Frohike both turned to look at 
Byers. 
"Yeah, you’re right. Either of you two show up and she’ll run on her own."
"Thanks, I resemble that." Frohike retorted as he reached for his wallet.
*****
Actually reaching the hospital in Carbury, North Dakota was the most exhausting 
thing Byers had ever done. Plane changes, puddle jumpers, rent cars, snow and 
ice and countless other annoyances seemed destined to keep him from his 
destination. All he really wanted to do was crawl in a warm hole and stay there. 
But this was for Mulder and, of course, Scully.
His reception at the hospital was as frosty as the weather outside. The boys had 
not warned anyone of his arrival, to protect themselves as long as possible. 
When he asked for Scully he stirred a hornet’s nest.
Byers was escorted by the sheriff and Dr. Hickman to a private room where he 
presented his id and his evidence that their "Red" was actually his friend 
Scully.
"We should let her meet him." Dr. Hickman finally said after going over all of 
the information on the table. "You are not to upset her, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. I just want to make sure it really is her. Her family was told she 
was dead and evidence to that fact was presented. They don’t know I’m here 
because we didn’t want to get their hopes up. Please, just let me talk to her."
The sheriff stood and went to the door, motioning for his deputy to bring Red 
in. Dr. Hickman was watching Byers’ reaction rather than hers. Byers’ shoulders 
sagged and he closed his eyes in what seemed to be a short prayer of 
thanksgiving. It did a lot toward relieving the doctor’s mind. He stood then and 
went to take Scully’s arm.
"Red, this fellow says he knows you and came to take you home. Do you recognize 
him?"
Scully stared at Byers’ face carefully. She tried to take in all of his features 
from her safe distance at the door, unconsciously putting her hand on Dr. 
Hickman’s arm for reassurance. Finally she shook her head. 
"I don’t know him."
"Scully, please." Byers was desperate, he had to at least get a hearing from 
her.
She drew back even farther. "What did you call me?"
"Your name is Dana Katherine Scully. You live in Washington, DC and work for the 
FBI."
"No! I’m a doctor. I must be a doctor."
"Scully, you are! Please relax. I would never hurt you. I’ll explain, just sit 
down."
Instead she turned to Dr. Hickman. "How did he find me here? How did he know 
where to look?"
Byers didn’t wait for the doctor to answer. "We’ve been looking for you ever 
since they tried to tell us you were dead. Mulder wouldn’t believe it. He was 
convinced that if you were dead he would feel it. He. . . "
"Is Mulder my husband?"
That question caught him off guard. She remembered a husband? Well, that might 
complicate things, what should he say? Scully noticed his hesitation.
"Are you my husband?" She didn’t look especially overjoyed at that prospect. 
Well, he’d known for years that she loved Mulder.
"Mulder is your partner. You, uh, you aren’t officially married, but if you 
remember a man in your life, it would be him."
"Why didn’t he come to get me?"
"He’s in the hospital. Your "death" was, um, very traumatic for him. My friends 
and I took over the search. We sent your picture out over the net and got a 
response from here."
"The net? Who?"
Dr. Hickman fielded that one. "We have some young men here who enjoy their 
computer a little more than was realized. They saw your picture and answered the 
email about you."
"I hope you don’t plan to punish them, if I really have been found."
"Don’t worry about them, an appropriate punishment will be found, I’m sure. 
Would you like to speak with Mr. Byers in private, or have me here? Either way 
would be fine with me."
"I know you’re busy. I can talk to him."
"Scully, we will not leave this building until you’re comfortable with me. I 
promise to answer your questions, I brought a lot of information with me. 
Please, I won’t hurt you."
Scully nodded to Dr. Hickman and the sheriff and they let themselves out. She 
came back to the table and sat across from Byers.
"The FBI?" She started.
"Yes. You are a forensic pathologist for them. You’re very good. Your solve rate 
for crimes is much better than average for the bureau."
"Where do you come in?"
"I’m a friend of Mulder’s, and you since you became his partner. My friends, 
Langly and Frohike," he paused hoping the names would be something to her. When 
she didn’t react, he went on. "We’ve worked with you and Mulder on some cases, 
unofficially of course. We do a lot with computers and sometimes have access to 
unofficial sources."
"You’re hackers." She stated.
"Yeah, we are." No sense denying it and she did know the word.
"How long have I been partners with Mulder?"
"Five years, almost since you got out of the academy."
She absorbed that, she had no memory of a man she’d worked with for five years, 
except to believe he was her husband. Maybe this Byers had the wrong man. Maybe 
he didn’t know about some personal aspect of her life.
"Have I known you the whole time?" Byers nodded, "But I could be married, and 
you not be aware of. . . "
"Scully, you wouldn’t marry anyone except Mulder. Take that as fact. You two are 
together, if it’s unofficial, it’s because of bureau regulations."
"Can I see a picture of him?"
Byers ducked his head. "I thought we had one, but Frohike prefers you as a 
subject. I have some side views, but nothing you could recognize him from. I’m 
sorry."
"Tell me the rest, family, friends. . . "
So Byers brought her up to date on her mother, brothers, the fact that her 
father and sister were gone, her apartment, everything he thought she’d care 
about. He had pictures of himself with Langly and Frohike, the bureau, even one 
shot of the office in the basement. He could feel her relax as they talked, her 
fear of him waning as he brought more and more evidence that he really did know 
her out of his bag. There were many pictures of her and she finally took the 
picture of Frohike in her hands and studied it.
"Why has he taken so many pictures of me?" She finally looked up.
"He thinks you’re hot." Byers blushed as he said it and Scully smiled for the 
first time.
"I suppose I should thank him, it’s these pictures that the boys recognized 
isn’t it?" He nodded. She looked up into his eyes, "Why hasn’t this brought back 
anything? What was done to me?"
He swallowed. He had purposely avoided exactly what she and Mulder did. He knew 
if he brought up UFOs or government conspiracies or the para-normal he’d lose 
her. And he couldn’t blame her for that. He decided to compromise.
"Listen, you and Mulder work in very sensitive areas. You work with things I 
don’t know about, but it’s possible that you were abducted to interfere with 
your work. I don’t know, maybe you got too close to a truth that someone wanted 
kept quiet, so they separated you and made him believe he’d lost you forever."
"You said he was in the hospital, was he injured when I was taken?"
"No. He had to. . . identify your remains. He. . . it was more than. . . "
"He loves me?"
"Yes." He could answer that one directly and truthfully.
*****

 
"Director Skinner please."
"Yes. Who is this?"
"John Byers. I’m a friend of Mulder’s."
"Yes." He remembered him from the memorial service, what did he want now?
"I need you to meet me at the hospital. I need to get in to see him."
"He’s not having visitors." Skinner was trying to keep his condition out of the 
records and it wasn’t easy. Talking to this guy wouldn’t help things.
"He’ll want this one. Look, I can’t go into this on an open line." Besides he 
was exhausted beyond belief. Getting back had been as hard as getting there. He 
wasn’t sure how Scully had stood it, but she was here beside him, anxious for 
the next move.
Skinner sighed. He didn’t need this.
"Please, Mr. Skinner. I’m in the parking lot of his location now."
"I’ll be there in twenty minutes. This better be good."
The line went dead. "Dana, your boss is on the way over. We’ll need him to get 
in to see Mulder."
"You still haven’t told me Mulder’s condition."
"The people that took you wanted to hurt him as much as possible. Sending him 
what he thought was your heart caused a breakdown. He blamed himself and, well, 
became a danger to himself."
"My heart? I thought we were talking about clothes or a watch or something. Why 
the hell were you even looking for me?"
"Mulder just couldn’t believe it was really your heart. That’s what sent him 
over the edge."
"But there are tests! Byers are you sure I can help? I mean, since I don’t 
remember him."
"Seeing you alive is the only thing that can help him. Believe me."
She still had hundreds of questions but wasn’t comfortable asking them. Byers 
left the car when Skinner arrived.
"I don’t know how to tell you this. . . "
"Come on, Byers, I don’t have a lot of time. I. . . "
"I found Scully."
"What did you say?" Skinner’s eyes narrowed and he took another step toward him. 
Byers held his ground.
"She’s in the car. Mulder was right, the heart was cloned. It had to be."
Skinner advanced on him now, ready to tear him apart if this was some kind of 
joke. "If you’re lying to me. . . " He left the threat unspoken.
Dana opened the door to the car and emerged. Skinner froze, unable to speak or 
move. Finally he reached out for her, but she stepped back away from him.
"It’s really her, but they’ve taken her memories. She doesn’t know you."
"Taken her. . . you sound like Mulder. Wait, are you saying she doesn’t remember 
him?"
"She has a feeling she was happily married and her medical training seems to be 
intact."
"Married?"
"How would you describe their relationship?"
Skinner decided not to answer that. "Are we making a mistake here?"
"They can help each other. He’ll know she’s alive, so he’ll want to live. He can 
help her get well. We have to let him know."
"Jesus, I don’t know how to. . . "
"Can you let me see him?" She finally spoke, "I don’t want to make it worse, but 
I need to know who I am. I need to know what’s happened to me."
Skinner wiped his hand across his brow. "Yeah, yeah we have to."
He took her elbow and motioned for Byers to stay at her side.
They paused just outside of his door.
"Are you sure you’re okay with this?"
"I have to know." Well, that was the Scully he knew. He pushed open the door and 
the three of them entered.
Mulder turned his head when they entered. Her eyes were on the restraints on his 
wrists. She hadn’t realized how much she feared this, he had become a "danger to 
himself". Was he also a danger to her? Everything hinged on this, what if she 
still didn’t remember? They had walked a couple more steps into the room before 
she forced herself to look up at him.
When their eyes locked she staggered under the impact and would have fallen if 
they hadn’t been holding her. The memories assaulted her and she desperately 
wanted to close her eyes and succumb to them, but she couldn’t look away. He, 
however, seemed to have no reaction to her presence.
Damn his hallucinations were getting good. She was back and he could actually 
smell her, the Scully scent he used to appreciate in the office. He hadn’t had 
visions of Skinner or Byers before, wonder what that was about.
"Mu. . . Mulder? Oh God, Mulder!" She broke from them and threw her arms around 
him.
"Release his hands! Byers, release him!"
Skinner already had the attendant fumbling with the straps.
His hands were trembling when he touched her face. He couldn’t believe she was 
here. He didn’t dare. If he believed he’d be put in the other room with a full 
body suit, not just restraints. But this was a great hallucination, he’d added 
the tactile. Shit, he could feel her!
His hands sought out the buttons on her blouse and he pulled it apart, his hand 
on her chest, feeling for the scar. She allowed it, pushing the hair off his 
forehead.
"Scully?"
"I’m alive, Mulder. You were right."
"A clone?"
She nodded.
"And you?

She leaned in and whispered, "I was wearing less than this that night in your 
hotel room on our first case. That’s when I learned you were the only one I 
could trust."
His eyes glistened, but he wasn’t going to cry, not now. She was alive. . . 
alive, so he could be too.
He pulled her closer into his arms, his hand resting tenderly on her left 
breast, his thumb caressing where the scar didn’t exist.
Byers and Skinner retreated quietly from the room.