Author's Note: This takes place in multiple alternate universes. Yes, I've screwed up some timelines but I've tried to keep what I can intact. Leave your canon purist cards at the door. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files or any of its characters. Nor do I own anything else I may have mentioned throughout the fic. External use only. Void where prohibited. Side-effects made include nausea, dizziness, sinus headache, heartburn, and death.

It started out as a normal investigation: a series of suicides all within the same town, all occurring within days of each other. Foul play had been dismissed by the local police. No usual suicide notes or reasons behind the victims' actions could be found. Up until their demise, each of the victims had all the appearances of leading happy, fulfilling lives with no history of depression. It's like each of them woke up one day and decided to die. With no explanations to satisfy the families of the victims, they brought in the X-Files team.

"Let me guess," Scully ventures as they near their destination, "Ghosts from the cemetery possessed the victims and made them kill themselves."

Mulder smirks at her obvious sarcasm. "Not my first guess, but I'll take it into consideration."

"Did they find any evidence of cult activity, possibility of a suicide pact between them?" She guesses, more seriously this time.

"Not bad, but as far as anyone's told us, none of them had any real connection to each other. In a small town like this, everyone seems to know each other, but nothing deep enough to explain this. That's what we're here for; maybe there's something the local PD missed."

The rest of the trip is continued in silence. They check into their motel and form a plan of attack for questioning the town. After hearing from several people, friends and loved ones of the victims, they had little to go on, leaving both agents frustrated with the case.

That night, they go over what they know.

Scully reads over their notes they collected. "Five suicide victims, ranging in age from 25 to 40, varying sexes, no connecting physical features, from all appearances a standard sampling of the town. It's starting to make me wonder what we're doing out here. We've found nothing to suggest that there's anything unusual about any of this."

"Except they all died within a week of each other, with no known motivation or history of mental illness. There has to be more to it than this. What else did we find out?"

Scully sighs, flips through their notes, "So far, the only thing vaguely resembling a lead is that about a week before their deaths they'd all been to some exhibit at the local museum. Maybe they contracted a contagious illness and died so suddenly it looked like suicide."

"With no one else in the town catching it? It's not much of a lead, but it's the only one we have. What do we know about this exhibit?"

"Unsurprisingly, it didn't draw much of a crowd. It was only one piece that not even the curator knows what it's supposed to be. Someone just found it and brought it in. No clue even what culture it's meant to be from. Sounds phony to me."

Possibly spurred on by her skepticism, Mulder stretches and looks ready for action again. "Might be worth a look."

First thing in the morning, they visit the local museum to find out what they can. Just off to the left of the entrance, they see a man wearing gloves handling what must be the mysterious artifact, placing it in a new Plexiglas display case. There's no identification card, although there is a poster next to it, featuring the person who found it in his field. Both agents peer in at it briefly. There really isn't anything terribly remarkable about it. It's a largish, about the size of a bowling ball, polished black stone with three concentric circles scratched in it, looking like a bull's eye symbol.

Scully addresses the employee nearby, "This was found in the area, is that right?"

"That's right. Out on Schmidt's farm, just a few weeks ago. We've sent pictures of it around but no one recognizes it. Kind of a mystery."

"Looks like you're making it a permanent fixture here," Mulder assesses. "I saw you put it in the case just now, was it just out in the open before?"

"Well, we don't get many visitors, so chances of it getting stolen are pretty low, but we had a few people walk in and start handling it and I'm more worried about keeping it in good condition."

"Who, kids?" Mulder asks.

"No, actually, the last people to see it didn't even come with a group. They must've just read about it or saw it on the news and just stopped by." The worker stops, suddenly contemplative. "Strange, now that I think of it...you're here investigating all those deaths...I'm certain some of them were here just a day or two before they..." he trails off, looking unsettled.

The two agents exchange looks. They immediately guess each other's thoughts and Mulder grasps her wrist, restraining her.

"Scully..."

"It's fine, what could happen?"

"I have a bad feeling about this, I don't think you should."

Scully wrests herself from her partner. "I just want a better look. It's probably nothing." She cleans her hands with a moist towelette, reaches in and picks up the stone.

She stands there with a stunned expression on her face, frozen on the spot. Her breathing is strained and unnatural. Mulder looks from his partner to the museum employee. "Did this happen before?"

"I didn't see them up close, I couldn't tell! Should I call 911?"

They watch her for about a minute, her eyes are the only part of her that move, and they're twitching back and forth almost too rapidly to see. After another minute she comes out of it and the museum worker is able to pry the stone out of her hands with his gloved ones. Scully collapses into her partner's arms, exhausted; he scoops her up and carries her back to the motel.

"Mulder? Is really that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

Pause. "Good. I missed you." She cuddles him, pressing her cheek against his collarbone. "I missed you so much."

"Shh, it's okay, I'm taking you home."

"Thank God. I'm so tired. I'm ready."

He lays her down on the bed, unsure what to think of the way she's acting. "Scully? You all right?"

With a strangely serene expression, she gazes up at him, taking his hand with a sweet smile. "I am now. I'm wonderful. It's been so long, so very long. I'm glad it'll be over soon."

"Over? What do you mean?"

"I should've known that you'd come for me. You look great. I'm ready to come home with you."

"But wait, what do you mean? You're glad what will be over? What do you mean I came for you?"

"You've come for me, right? I'm done now, aren't I? Because I don't want to go back..." she ends with a languishing sigh.

Something attracts Scully's attention to her hands, she stares at them, opening and closing them, feeling up her arms, propping herself up to look down at herself... "Mulder, look at me! Just look at me! Look!"

"W-what am I looking at?"

On the nightstand sits her travel makeup bag, she sifts through it until she finds a mirror and stares at herself. "Mulder? How old am I?"

Still obeying her initial command to look at her, he tells her, "Thirty-six."

"Thirty-six?" she repeats in awe. "I'm 36?" She looks from the mirror back to her partner, then back again, "36. God, I'm just getting started...and I was hot!"

"How old did you think you were?

Here, she claps a hand to her forehead and thinks, he watches her count on her fingers, drawing in the air... "I don't know. But a lot older than 36." She covers her eyes, visions crowd her brain and she tries to make sense of it. Slowly, things start coming together, continuity begins taking shape...Scully breathes a sigh of relief when she gets this far along.

"Scully, you're not making any sense." He squeezes her hand, bringing a smile to her face again. "You say you missed me, do you mean you've been away?"

She nods, "It's been years; years and years."

"What's the last thing you remember? What year did you...get to?"

Pausing to think about it, she answers, "2039. Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Are the others here, too? Oh, what I wouldn't give to see you all again."

Mulder can't make any sense of what she's talking about, hoping she'll explain herself soon, "Well, far be it from me to screw up a perfectly good movie quote, but no, it's Nebraska. It's the year 2000, we're in Nebraska investigating a series of suicides. Remember?"

"Wha-at?" Scully gasps in alarm. "I have to...all that again? I can't, I just can't! Don't make me do it all again, Fox, please..." She scoots over in the bed, making room for him, with no question to her unspoken request. "Please..."

He takes off his jacket and shoes and gets into bed with his partner, letting her snuggle up to him. "So, what happens to us in the future?"

"Please stay, please stay with me, don't leave me," she begs as she holds onto him like a life preserver. He hugs her back, clueless as to what would cause his normally independent friend to plead like that. A moment later she calms down enough to answer his question, secure that he's here and he's staying. Just the knowledge that he's there with her makes her feel more like herself again. "In one of them, we were married, in others we just stayed friends. I missed this so much. The others were good at it, too, but I haven't been like this with you in so long." Both times she mentioned "the others", she fought with herself to get her memories in the right order. Yes, there had been three...Mulder was one, he was the first one. So good to see him again.

"What do you mean, in one of them? What others?"

"I couldn't remember them all until just a few minutes ago, but since I ended up back here I can. When I was in each one, I only knew the one I was in, no memory of any others. I guess that's how I can still say I was always faithful." She cracks a naughty grin. "As far as I can tell, three times I woke up in 2014, and after getting used to the situation, in each one I was happy. It wasn't a glamorous life, but I was either a full-time doctor or teacher, I was completely out of the Bureau and all that mess, we were all safe, the Truth was uncovered...I was married. I lived each one for 25 years." She sighs sadly, looking quite weepy, stroking his cheek as though she still can't believe he's really here.

"Sounds nice. So who were the others?"

Scully shakes her head, "I don't want to tell you. I shouldn't have even told you about us. It might ruin it. Just trying to change the future or trying to bring it about can ruin things. Temporal Prime Directive. I can't interfere."

"Well, the harm's already been done, as far as we're concerned. So, tell me."

She still figures it's safer to keep him in the dark, just in case it affects their future. "There really isn't much else to tell. But we were happy. Now...now we have to go through it all over again, or even more likely is that none of those futures can come to pass. I don't know what I'll do then."

Mulder pulls her into a hug, realizing that the woman who woke up that morning 35 years old is now mentally over 100. No wonder she thought he'd "come for her". She thought he'd come to take her to Heaven. That she was done, despairing that she still had to continue living.

"Scully! That's it! You just uncovered the reason behind all those suicides! They all touched the rock, right? They were all sent into different futures or alternate universes, lived out their lives there...then when they were brought back exactly where they started...it all makes sense! We have to get back and warn them. Wait, you stay here and rest. I'll take care of it."

Frantically, Scully grabs at him, "Fox, don't! Please, darling, don't leave me. I...I..."

The urgency in her voice as well as the repeated use of his verboten first name shocks him, he obediently lays back down next to her, feeling her shiver fearfully. "Okay, okay, I'll call them instead." He senses her immediately relax, and in a few minutes she goes to sleep, still clinging to him in her dreams.

St. Louis, MO

April 5, 2014

6:45am

Scully finds herself waking up in bed in a strange room. After a brief glance at her surroundings, she turns over and discovers that she's not alone; Mulder lies next to her, asleep. She's immediately at a loss for how to react. From the looks of things, she guesses they aren't being held captive, neither of them bears any sign of injury or restraint. For a few minutes, Scully simply stares at her partner, drinking in the sight of him with a longing expression. Part of her demands answers, another part of her wants to just lay with him forever. She scoots in closer and runs her fingers through his hair, surprised to see flecks of gray.

"Mulder?" she whispers softly. "Mulder, wake up."

He grunts and pulls her close.

"Wake up, it's important!"

"It's your day off, go back to sleep."

Day off? Done playing nice, she gives him a shove and pulls the covers away. "Mulder, look at us! When the hell did this happen?"

Blinking dimly as he finally wakes up, he squints at the angry woman in bed with him. "For gods' sakes, Dana, what's gotten into you?" He pulls the blankets back irritably.

"Don't you notice anything strange this morning?" Scully asks, now hardly able to contain herself.

"Apart from you stealing the covers and waking me up before dawn?" He yawns, "No."

"So you'd say this is normal?"

"Just spell it out; will you, Dana? It's too early for 20 questions."

Lying back down in defeat, she brings her hands up to her head, muttering "Dana, Dana, since when do you call me Dana?"

"What, you want to go back to your maiden name? Fine. Can I go back to sleep now, Scully?"

Maiden name? "Mulder...?"

"Whaaat?" he groans, burying his head in the pillow. "Can't this wait? Seriously, your one day this week to sleep in and you're up before the sun with inane questions."

"Just answer me one thing: why are we in bed together?"

He opens his eyes again to give her a strange look. "Probably has to do with a little something that happened 10 years ago."

"Ten years ago?"

"Mm-hmm. It's April 5th, remember?"

Now it's her turn to give him a look. "April? That's impossible, it's not April. And what do you mean about ten years ago? We didn't even know each other ten years ago."

By this time they've both caught on that there's something definitely wrong. Simultaneously, they sit up and bring their knees up. "All right, now you're scaring me."

Scully runs both hands over her forehead and through her hair. "That makes two of us. So what were you talking about that happened...whenever?"

"April 5th, 2004, I seem to remember there being a church involved and a white dress...?"

Scully's eyes go wide, "Are you telling me that we're married! Hang on a second, 2004...ten years ago? That's not right, it can't be 20...14?"

"What year do you think it is?"

"2000."

They both stare at each other silently. Finally, Mulder gives a short laugh, "No wonder you were surprised. Welcome, Agent Scully, to the future." He waves his fingers at her "eerily" and gives her arm a tug, inviting her to cuddle up with him.

Scully smiles weakly, looking her husband up and down while inching closer to him, drawn to him yet almost afraid to touch him. She bites her lip to stop it from trembling as she brings her hand up to touch his face. "You're my...I'm your...Can't be...Oh!" She stops trying to talk and just presses herself into his arms. "Mulder, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything."

He holds her tightly, stroking her hair. "It's all right, we'll get this sorted out. It probably isn't permanent. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't know, I can't really remember what our last case was."

"Were we fighting again?"

Hesitant to reopen old wounds, she shrugs, "Kind of."

He plants a kiss on her forehead, "Well, we're not anymore. How's that?"

"But...how?"

"Well, it took us a while but we finally faced what's been blindingly obvious from the start."

"We did take the long way around, didn't we? When did you...know?"

Mulder lies back down, pulling her down with him. "I could say the cliché of 'the first time I met you,' but that wouldn't be quite right."

Still unable to take her eyes off of the man who is now her husband, she silently agrees. "I knew there was something different about you then. As much as we disagreed with each other I knew I liked you. But... love came later. It took time, and I'm glad that neither of us did anything to wreck it. We came close a few times..."

Mulder nods regretfully, turning on his side to get a good look at her. "We live here in St. Louis, you teach at the med school. You get a lot of first year classes. Keeps you young."

"And what do you do?"

"Work from home." He gives her a grin. Inside, however, his thoughts are somber. Year 2000? She's forgotten everything. What can I even tell her? Where to begin? He decides to stick with the good news. "The two of us were central to the 2012 resistance, thanks to our background. We got enough people informed that we could fight back before They knew to expect a fight. So, now that you have your answers, can we go back to sleep for a bit? Maybe something will fall back into place. We can cover more when it's a more respectable hour."

"I'll try." She flips over onto her stomach and gives him an awkward smile. No amount of fantasies could prepare her for this reality. She examines her wedding ring, wondering which one of them picked it out. It's a simple white gold band, matching the engagement ring perfectly. It has a three stone setting of small but perfect diamonds. Practical but elegant. Scully looks over at Mulder again, who has now gone back to sleep, suppressing the urge to giggle to herself at her good fortune. The next thought she has banishes that impulse immediately: what if this is a setup? Again, she glances at Mulder, turning over to get comfortable. He wouldn't...what if it's both of us? If we're being used...kept out of the way...

"Mulder?"

Grunt.

"Please, I'm sorry but we need to talk about this."

Grunt, whine.

Now she scoots in next to him, nearly spooning, a fact not lost on her. She whispers, barely audibly, "All you need to do is tell me if we're being detained."

"Detained?"

"Shhh!"

Mulder lowers his voice to the confidential whisper of his bedmate. "What do you mean 'detained'?"

"Isn't this all too perfect? Too easy? I...I wake up to find myself happily married to a man whom I've nearly always loved, teaching at a top-notch medical school, and now some kind of war hero to boot? It doesn't make any sense. It can't be true, there has to be something going on."

Now resigned to being awake, Mulder takes his former partner's hands. "Which one of us is the paranoid one? Listen, Dana, I wouldn't hide anything from you, not like that."

Looking at their hands, she falls deep into thought. "It's just all too good to be true. It can't be. Life doesn't hand out fairytale endings to people."

Mulder looks up at her face and sees tears falling. "God, Scully, I love you," he continues. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you. And if there was anything funny going on, I'd be the first to tell you, to put you on your guard. We're fine, we out, we're free!"

"What if you're trying to protect me? You could just be shielding me from facts that I've conveniently forgotten. How could fourteen years just vanish without a trace like that?"

He kisses her forehead, wiping her tears away. She trembles in his arms; all those years of yearning for this make the final reward almost unbearable. "I don't know how, but we'll find out. We'll get you to a doctor and get some answers. But I swear to you on all I hold dear, it's the truth. Trust me."

"I trust you. I love you." She nuzzles their foreheads together, indulging in kiss after kiss. Within a few minutes, though, the early hour starts to become more apparent to both of them and they doze off together again.

Hours later, they're woken up again by a clattering/splashing sound in the kitchen. Scully jerks awake, on full alert, while Mulder barely turns over.

"Look, there's something I didn't tell you-" he starts to confess. He's interrupted by the voice of a 12-year-old boy.

"Mom, Dad, we're out of milk!"

Mulder gets up, stretches and hands Scully her robe. She's giving him a distinctly suspicious look, walking mechanically by his side. In the kitchen, they survey the damage, a half-gallon milk carton lay on the floor, slowly chugging out its contents. Mulder picks it up, it's still about half-full, and grabs a wad of paper towels to mop it up. The boy is standing perfectly still, like if he doesn't move his parents won't see him. Scully barely looks like she has eyelids as she looks at him, then at Mulder. Doing another quick glance between them, she crosses her arms over her chest.

"You really must think I'm stupid!"

"Mom?"

She holds a silencing hand up in front of the boy, with a stern look. "Mulder, you lied to me. This is a setup, you know it, and you're playing some part in it."

Mulder takes her by the shoulder and guides her out of the kitchen, trying to calm her down. "I didn't lie to you, Dana."

"Don't call me that," she warns darkly.

"Fine. Scully, this is William, our son. Will, Mom's hurt herself or something, her memory's been affected, so be nice to her, all right?" The boy nods, gives his mother a wave. She still regards him coldly.

"You really must think I'm stupid," she repeats, breaking away from her husband and giving the room an impromptu search, pulling open end-table drawers and decorative boxes.

"Scully, what are you looking for?" He's reverted back to his old name for her with surprising ease, helped in not a small way by her apparent aversion to her first name at the moment.

"My gun," she answers shortly. "Where – is – my – gun?"

"Gun?" William gulps, sidling away.

"You turned it in, you don't carry one now. What did you want to do, shoot me again?"

This has their son running back to barricade himself in his room, certain that his boring old parents had finally gone insane.

"You had to bring that up again," she mutters irritatedly. "Look, Mulder..." she whispers lightly as looks fearfully around, taking in all the corners and crevices where she imagines her foes could be watching her from. "You told me we're not being detained."

"And I was telling the truth," he whispers back.

"You know full well I can't have children," she hisses. "What kind of a sick joke is this?"

As it had quieted it down, William peeks out of his room and tries to see if it's all clear. He creeps out, looking between the two of them. "Are you guys still fighting?"

"Yes. Yes we are," Scully reports, trying to get the boy to slip and reveal his true purpose. "What's more, we're probably getting a divorce, and it'll be your fault. How do you like that?"

"Dana!" Mulder reproaches. "She's kidding, Will, none of it's true. We're not fighting, we're not getting divorced, nothing's your fault, all right?"

The boy looks between his parents, unsure who to believe. "Mom? What'd I do?"

It isn't real, she tells herself, it can't be real. He's one of Them, he's been brought in to play a role to keep me quiet. She steels herself to go into another diatribe, but suddenly she can't bring herself to do it. Dammit! They knew! Throw me in the room with a total stranger who calls me Mom and I'll melt. Gah... "Will, if that's even your real name, just what exactly are They doing this for? What's the purpose? Maybe...maybe we can arrange something. Just get me out of this."

"Dad, Mom's not making sense. What's going on?"

"That's what I want to know!" Scully cries. "Look, kid, I can't have children, I've had tests done, trial runs, and they all turned up zip. Okay? I give you full points for being convincing, though. If I didn't know better, I'd have believed it myself."

Mulder tries to step in again, wishing he had a better answer prepared, "Scully, William is our son. This isn't a hoax or a setup, nothing's been done to us."

"Then how-?"

"He's an alien hybrid. You, me, and those guys," he points skyward.

Scully blinks, looks at her husband, then her son. "Oh. Well, that's different. Why didn't you say so?" She then heads back into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. The father and son sit down together, glad the crisis is averted. Scully comes out with two cups, hands one to Mulder, looking 100 percent better than she had a moment ago. "So, what else do I need to know?" She plops down next to her husband and son.

"That we're safe," Mulder tells her, kissing her forehead. They spend the rest of the day catching her up with recent history, from their son's miraculous conception and birth, to the changes in their lives afterward. William keeps a safe distance, still wary of his mother from the way she acted that morning, which is probably just as well, since Scully needs time to adjust to being somebody's mother. They regard each other shyly with Mulder to moderate. Scrap books, photo albums, and nostalgia TV shows all play a role in getting her situated.

"So what's everyone else in the family doing these days?" she poses innocently enough as the day draws to a close.

"Well, your mom's been living in a retirement home for a few years now, she's doing all right, we go see her regularly and spring her out." Scully senses him hesitating over family news, knowing something is up She presses him silently with one of her trademark "get on with it" expressions. "You've cut off ties with Bill, or at least he did with you, when we got married."

The news, while hurtful, isn't entirely surprising. She can easily imagine how it happened. "I see."

"I'm sorry."

If given the choice between her brother and Mulder, Scully sees no contest. "It's okay. Not a total loss, huh?"

Despite her light toned dismissal, Mulder knows better. She's had to watch her family dwindle around her, she didn't want to lose anyone. "I'm sorry," he tells her again, pulling her into his arms. She slips right in, the novelty of being allowed to be affectionate with him won't wear off for a long time. Scully stares at him intensely, looking at the big picture. The two of them, together, just as they should be. He kisses her forehead and she smiles serenely, knowing she'd made the right choice.

Scully wakes up. Her memory of her first day in a possible future remains close, however. She curls her arms up to her chest, holding that feeling of safety to her heart. I've been sent back to the darkest, most dangerous part of my life. I have to do it all over again, and I don't even know how I did it before. She dresses mechanically, smirking in reminiscence at her clothes. Mulder is already up and dressed and packing their car up to head back to DC. Unsurprisingly, she falls asleep along the way several times. When awake, though, she often fixes her sad, piercing gaze at her partner. And that's all he is, she cruelly reminds herself, turning her attention yet again to her bare hands.

Mulder looks over at his partner, taking in her pensive and melancholy expression. After what she's been through, he isn't sure what he can even say or do. He reaches over and takes one of her hands, and is once again taken aback by the warm smile she gives him that immediately melts away into a frown of regret. Knowing what she had told him, what he'd been to her...

"Scully? I, uh...I'm really sorry about what happened to you. I wish I knew how to help."

"Oh, Fox..." she whispers, shaking her head. "I mean-"

"You can call me whatever you want, okay?"

"But you're not him. I have to stop this before I hurt myself. You're not him," she murmurs, facing her hands again. She looks back up, "It's so good to see you again, though. You...you have no idea." Scully flings herself back in her seat with an embarrassed grimace. "God, now I look crazy. I didn't mean to get all weird, I just...I'm sorry. I'm so tired. I'm ready, I want to go on, do you understand? I'm not depressed, I'm not making a cry for help or trying to get attention...I'm just ready to die!" She fixes her piercing eyes on his profile. "Please let me. Please..."

He's quiet for a while, listening to her talk this way is almost more than he can bear, "I can't do that, Scully. But I'll do what I can to help you. I can't even pretend to understand what's happened to you, but there has to be another solution than to stand by and let you kill yourself. Give it a few days, just try to get through the week and see if you feel any differently. You may have lived several lives, your mind and your memory are at least 100 years old...but physically, you're young and healthy again. Think of that. And while you're at it, spare a thought for a few people who've risked an awful lot to make sure you're healthy."

Stung, but unsurprised, by her partner's viewpoint, Scully remains silent for the remainder of the day. Night falls, and they're pulling into a town to get a room for the night. As if I have a choice how to feel about this. Like I can just flip a switch and suddenly be happy to be back here. And unless I drop off the map completely I'll end up seeing the others, too. What will they say? I can't even imagine how they'd react. I can't help how I know I'll react to seeing them again. I bet they won't handle it any better than... her thoughts trail off as she gazes at Mulder. He's driving with one hand and fiddling with the radio with the other. Scully reaches out and touches him, that same sad smile crossing her face. "It's so good to see you," she whispers. "And...I'm sorry. I am grateful, you know, I know all that you and...and Skinner did to buy me more time."

The way she stumbles over their superior's name gives Mulder pause. It's been a long time for her, she just needed a second to pull his name out of the back of her head. But somehow he isn't altogether sure. The rest of the trip home is quiet and decidedly awkward, both of them are too embarrassed to speak. On their way to Scully's apartment, they stop at the grocery store. Unsure how well-stocked she is, and facing at least a week of 24-hour suicide watch, Mulder fills the cart with whatever he can think of. Once they're home, he makes a few calls to round up the troops.

"Your mom will come in the morning, someone will come and relieve her around 3, and so on. In the meantime, I'm going to try and see what else may have caused this. If there's some medical reason behind it all."

Scully nods, not even looking at him. "Isn't that my line?" she asks. Now as the subject of doubt, she has to rethink her past habit of always demanding that there was a logical explanation to things. She wanders around her apartment, taking in everything, amazed to find herself back here and now after such a long time away. In the next room, she overhears Mulder on the phone, it sounds like he's called up a psychiatric hotline in the yellow pages to get their take on it. As the conversation progresses, Scully gets the idea that it isn't going as he'd hoped.

"No, she's not taking anything...no, clean and sober, it wasn't drugs...No, no family history of mental illness...Well, what would you suggest? Great," he grumbles sarcastically. "I'm pretty sure this isn't her idea of a joke. Something happened to her, I'm trying to figure out what. I told you she doesn't do drugs. I can't accept that. You're saying she's either lying to me or she's stoned. Yes, vivid detail. At least 75 years, we haven't done the full math yet. Of course I'm serious! Yeah, I didn't think so. So we're down to her making it all up. Great, you've been a huge help." He hangs up the phone with a look of disgust, "While he can't make a proper diagnosis without testing you, he says there isn't any known mental disorder that would cause that many years' worth of memories to suddenly manifest. He said some applications of hypnosis or brainwashing techniques could result in false memory implantation, it wouldn't be to the degree you're talking about."

Scully shoots him an I-told-you-so expression, "So I'm either on drugs, making it all up..."

"Or telling the truth."

"Bingo." She runs her hand over her laptop, stares at the array of remote controls on the end table, unable to remember which one was for what. A stranger in her own time, she sinks into the couch, wondering how she's to be expected to adapt to this in such a short time. Once again, Mulder is back on the phone. He's clearly a man on a mission and the confirmation of her condition is all it took to set plans into action. This one sounds like it's going much better than the other one. Soon he hangs up, looking accomplished.

"I just talked to Skinner," he calls from the kitchen, "He's listed you as wounded in the line of duty, we'll see if we can get you off on temporary disability. He wants me to tell you he wishes you a full recovery. Just take your time."

This brings a soft look to her eyes, and the first real smile she's worn all day. "That's nice of him."

Now Mulder is digging around in her drawers for masking tape and a marker, at the same time he's bagging up any sharp items he might find and removing glassware from the kitchen as well. Scully looks up and sees what he's doing, surprised that he is strictly following standard suicide watch procedure. After a few trips down to his car, he joins her on the couch and labels her remotes. In that respect, their usual telepathy is right on track. Surprised by what he's sensing in her, he curls his fingers under her chin, and draws her in for a kiss. What would've ordinarily taken all of his courage to do, he does very easily since it's something they both know they want. From Scully's perspective, this is far from their first kiss, but she doesn't do anything to remind him of that. When they separate, she sees him actually blushing. "Why, Fox Mulder, I believe you're bashful."

Choosing not to comment on this he just looks at her, trying to wrap his head around all that's happened to her in such a short space of (his) time. "God, Scully, what's it like? One minute you're in 2039, the next minute you're sent back nearly 40 years to do it all over again. And this happened to you three times?"

She nods, "How am I going to do this? I'm going to need a crash history course just to be up to speed with current events. And I don't want to," she ends in a whisper, once again begging him to let her go.

"We're going to get through this. Just try to take one day at a time. For me?"

With another halfhearted nod, Scully slinks back to her bedroom and goes to sleep again. He'd done a quick review about how to conduct a suicide watch, and knows that he's not to leave her alone for any reason. Hoping she's decent, Mulder follows her into the bedroom and takes a seat near her bed.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Scully asks as she climbs into bed.

"Dead serious. You're not to be out of sight until we've decided it's safe."

"We?" she yawns irritably, annoyed at the attention to detail her partner has shown.

"Everyone I called in to keep an eye on you. We'll do this as long as it takes, we won't let you harm yourself."

Scully thinks about it, looking for a loophole. "Are you going to follow me into the bathroom, too?"

Knowing that the answer should be yes, but trying to give his friend a shred of dignity, Mulder caves, "Not if you don't force us to. I'm willing to give you that much privacy. Besides, I can't think of a worse way to go than drowning."

Silently, Scully agrees. Suffocation of any sort had always given her the creeps. "I take it you emptied the medicine cabinet?"

"Not even Tylenol is left," Mulder confirms. "You kind of get the idea we want you around."

Having run out of questions or arguments, Scully rolls over and goes to sleep. Taking into account how much she'd slept on the way home, Mulder is surprised that she's able to sleep so much. It certainly makes him question her previous assertion that she wasn't depressed. He knows that increased, unnatural sleeping was definitely a symptom, and is therefore worried about that possibility.

Mulder spent the night uneasily, finally falling asleep around 5, then what seemed like moments later waking up to let Scully's mother in. "Thanks for coming. I don't want to scare you, but she's in bad shape. She hasn't said much, see if you can get her to talk a bit more. Maybe just talking it out will help."

"I'll do what I can. I don't know what I can do, though."

"Just being here might help. I think she's been a bit embarrassed having me around, to be honest."

"From what I heard, the two of you have seen each other in worse shape than this. How is this situation different?" Maggie wants to know.

Mulder shifts the weight on his feet awkwardly, "Look, I didn't tell you this over the phone, but the reason she wants to die is that she's just lived several lifetimes at once. In one of them we were married. Now that she's back in the present, she's been...different. When she first got back, she thought I'd come for her, to take her to Heaven or something. She might look the same as she always did, but her memory spans well over a century now. She'll need help."

"How many of these lives has she gone through? What were they like?"

"She doesn't want to tell me anything specific in case it screws things up. But she's lived in three of them and was in a different town, a different job, with a different husband each time. She thinks they might still represent a possible future for her." As he's explaining this, he wonders how much of this Mrs. Scully will believe and how much of it she'd probably chalk up as delusions or hallucinations. "It sounds crazy, but it's true. She couldn't fake this. Listen, I have to get going, but your relief should be here this afternoon, and I'll come take over tonight again. Let me know if anything changes."

Knocking on the bedroom door before letting herself in, she calls softly "Dana, it's Mom. Fox just left for work so it's just us. How are you feeling?"

Scully rolls over to face her mother, her expression is dismal to say the least. "What did he tell you?"

Her mother sits down on the bed, smoothing her hair sympathetically. "Everything he knows, I think. Whatever it is you told him."

"And you believed it?"

Maggie doesn't answer, just smiles down at her, stroking her daughter's hair some more. "It sounds awful. I wouldn't wish what you've gone through on anybody."

"In general, or just today?" she asks, a weak attempt at humor. "God, I missed you, Mom. It's so good to have you back. Talk to me. Tell me anything." Momentarily forgetting "when" she is, she suggests "Tell me how you think I made a mistake in who I married, guilt trip me for moving so far away, I just want to hear your voice."

"Was I really that bad?"

Scully shrugs, "You weren't pleased with some of my decisions...and didn't bother keeping it a secret. I was happy, though, Mom. Not ridiculously MGM musical happy, but cozy happy. You know?"

"That's good. If I ever suggest otherwise, remind me that I told you once that that's all that's important. You're an adult, you make your own decisions and you stand by them. I remember I wasn't thrilled when you joined the FBI, but look at where that led you. I don't think I can imagine things any different. Maybe...better, safer, something where you're not in harm's way at all times...but you seem to cope with that part of the job. You would've never met Fox, and he's your best friend in the world."

"Sometimes it felt like he was my only friend. I love him," she admits with a smile. "He was the first one. It was easiest to believe it with him, my only reservation was that it seemed too perfect. I thought it was a ruse to keep me quiet and out of the way somehow. I think he was flattered by the idea."

"Who were the others?"

Scully sits up, hugging her knees, "Did he ask you to find out?"

"I'm curious about who I wouldn't have approved of."

"Sorry, not spilling. I...I don't want to wreck my chances. I'm worried I already lost my shot with Mulder, but I might still have hope with one of them."

"What makes you think you lost your chance with him? Did you two have another argument already?"

Scully shakes her head, "No, nothing like that. I just don't know what he thinks of the idea. Of me. Us. I feel like I just sort of threw it at him. I'd be surprised if it didn't scare him off."

"Dana, how do you know that any of them can happen? What if they weren't even real?"

"They were real, Mom! They are real! I lived it, I know it! They have to be. I don't know what I'd do otherwise."

Maggie takes her daughter's hands, "Looks like we're going to find out."

Angrily, Scully wrenches away. Having been so glad to see her mother after all this time, she's suddenly annoyed by her. What does she know about it? What does anyone know about it? "Leave me alone," she mutters, laying back down. "I never asked to come back, I don't want to be here. I don't need you to tell me what I experienced wasn't real. I'm just so tired."

"Fox said you've been sleeping a lot. That isn't normal."

"Why did I have to come back here? It's so long ago. So long ago. I thought I was done with this part of my life, Mom. You know what you just said about wishing my life could be better, safer, away from harm? I had that. We were out, we were free, our enemies were taken care of. I had everything I needed to be happy. And then...then it was all taken away when I came back here. Home...and family...I had that, Mom! I have nothing here."

"You have me. You have Fox."

"He's not my Fox. My husband wouldn't make me stay like this, live like this. He'd let me go. He loved me. This one..."

"He loves you, too, Dana. He isn't doing this because he wants you to suffer or for selfish reasons-"

"Then why? Why would my so-called best friend do this to me? He knows I'm not crazy, he knows my reasons are sound and valid and if he were in the same place I'd let him go, too! I'm old, Mom. I don't look it, but I've lived my life and I'm ready to die. What if you kept on living and living, 100, 125, 150...and your so-called friends "kindly" kept you alive? How much would you appreciate their efforts?"

"How...how old are you, Dana?" her mother asks, almost dreading the answer.

She'd actually been pondering the mathematics and checking her work before her mother had arrived, having been curious about the same thing herself, so she's ready with an answer. "153. Three times I woke up in 2014, 50 years old, and lived in each future for 25 years. So fourteen years, regardless of whether I remember them, I can accept that they happened; three times fourteen makes forty-two, plus the seventy five years I do remember, plus 36 makes 153. I never gave the whole amount to Mulder, because he'd probably bring up that time were on that destroyer out at sea," she reveals with a smile. "Did I ever tell you about that one? Something in the water made us rapidly age, so even though at the time I'd known Mulder for a short while, we'd already grown old together. Cute, huh?"

Maggie listens, not finding the casual mention of one of her daughter's more grisly brushes with death very amusing, but forces a smile for her sake. "Cute," she lies. "Get some sleep. When you wake up I'll fix lunch. Okay?"

"Okay."