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TITLE: Night Visitor
AUTHOR: Gabi Fisher
SPOILER WARNING: None specifically, though everything up through the fifth season is fair game.
CLASSIFICATION: A, AU, UST
SUMMARY: The second in the Samantha series. Mulder gets an unexpected visitor and finds out some more about Samantha. Scully questions her remission.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, CC, FOX, 1013, and everyone else owns everything. No infringement intended.

*    *    *

Mulder's Apartment-Late Friday night

    The rain storms had subsided sooner than the meteorologists had guessed, and only a light misty shower fell upon the city. By morning, there would most likely be a break in the rain.
    Something woke Mulder, though he wasn't sure what. He stared the television, but only saw the snow that followed movies. A moment later, he realized what had woken him. The doorbell rang again. Sitting up and running a hand through his now disheveled hair, Mulder glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was 1:13, not unusually late for him to be awake, but unusual for him to have visitors this late. Actually, visitors at all...
    He opened the door and found Scully on the other side. "Um, hi," Mulder said, surprised. He hadn't expected to see Scully so soon, he figured she would still be mad at him for another several days even after he had apologized. Remembering his manners, he said, "Want to come in? I was just watching a movie."
    Without saying anything, Scully stumbled through his doorway. Part of his curiosity was now lessened. She was really drunk. Mulder wondered how that had come about. As far as he knew, Scully never drank, not even at the FBI charity balls he had seen her at. "Come on, you should sit down," Mulder suggested, gently.
    Scully nodded slightly, and followed him into his bed room. He helped her lie down on the bed, and then left to go make her a cup of coffee. He brought it to her black and handed it to her. She started to shake her head, but Mulder insisted. "You have to drink something. I'm not quite sure how much alcohol you've had, but I'll guess it was quite a bit. You need something else in your stomach."
    Reluctantly, Scully took the steaming mug from his hands and drank from it. Mulder waited for a few minutes before asking her anything. If he didn't have such a good idea as to why she had gone and gotten drunk, he would have asked. He figured that most of the reason was him. He definitely hadn't been nice, or even decent, to her earlier on the phone. The bigger question was why did she come here if he was the problem.
    When Scully handed the empty cup to Mulder, he took it from her and then set it on the nightstand. "You want to tell me why you are here, Scully?" He said it gently, attempting to keep her calm.
    She thought about it for a second before she responded. "To talk to you I guess. I had a few things to say," Scully responded, her words slurred. "I wanted to tell you that I'm glad that you found your sister," she started, though Mulder couldn't place the tinge of anger in her slurred words. "And it was so very much like you to ditch me as soon as you saw her. I don't even know why I was surprised. You always do that; you are constantly putting a phantom sister in front of those who are actually here in flesh and blood. You only remember me when you need help or need suggestions on what to do next. Why can't you ever just ignore someone or something for me? Is it really that hard?" The anger and hurt in her words sunk into Mulder's head. Scully rolled onto her side with her back to Mulder. Then, once again surprising herself and Mulder, she began crying.
Mulder was at a loss. He didn't know what to do. He rarely saw Scully cry, and even then she refused any support from him. Tentatively, Mulder placed his hand on her shoulder. She didn't shrug it off or move away, but just continued silently crying, her shoulders shaking.
    Eventually, her sobs quieted and her shoulders stilled. She was asleep Mulder didn't know how long he sat there next to her while she cried and then after she fell asleep, and he didn't care. While he sat there, he thought. Mostly about what Scully had said, but about Samantha, the X-Files, and every other aspect of his life. Scully's words were true, he knew, though he had never known that was how she felt. If he had, maybe he would have done something differently. Maybe not. He wasn't sure.
    All his life until he met Scully, Mulder had been alone. He didn't have to worry about anyone but himself. He didn't have to care about anyone but himself. When Scully came into his life, all that changed, but by then, Mulder was so set in his ways that he didn't always think about what he was doing-or who he was hurting-and just did it.
    Before standing up and returning to his couch, he vowed to himself and whatever higher being that was listening that he would try harder to change his ways and hurt Scully less.

*    *    *

    The thin slivers of early morning light that passed through the venetian blinds seemed more like the hot, midday sun to Scully when she first opened her eyes. She closed her eyes against the bright light and tried to remember where she was. Due to the massive headache she had, it was very hard to think at all, much less details as to what she was doing in the foreign room.
    Slowly, she remembered most of what had happened the previous day. She remembered going to the bar and then driving to Mulder's apartment. What had happened after she arrived, was a mystery, however, She would have to ask Mulder when she saw him.
    Scully sat up and felt a wave of nausea join her pounding headache. Only once before in her life had Scully been drunk, and she decided after this morning that she would never do it again.     Her overhang felt a thousand times worse than the last time, though not necessarily because it had been in her first year of college. With thoughts of making a hot, steaming cup of black coffee with an aspirin going through her pained head, Scully stood up very slowly and began making her way into the kitchen.
    She walked lightly on her sock-clad feet to prevent waking Mulder. The nausea returned while she was headed toward to the kitchen, so Scully quickly made a detour to the bathroom and promptly threw up the previous night's drinks. She felt slightly better afterwards, and sat at the semi-dark kitchen table with her coffee waiting for Mulder to wake up.
    In the dim light, Mulder didn't see her the first time he passed by the table. "'Morning," Scully greeted him, and he practically jumped a mile. Scully offered him a half-smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
    "That's alright. I would say 'good morning,' but I doubt that you feel all that great," Mulder said.
    "Isn't that the truth. I feel like I was either hit by a truck or had about ten glasses too much to drink. I'm leaning towards the truck, myself," Scully replied truthfully.
    "Well, you don't seem to beat up for someone who was recently hit by a truck, but then again you could always be one of those quick-healing-people whose bruises disappear overnight."
    "Sounds like an X-File to me," she commented. "Any idea on how I ended up here?"
    "I was about to ask you the same thing. You just showed up, more drunk than I ever thought I'd see you, around 1:20. I assumed that you drove here, though I have no clue why. Any thoughts?" Mulder asked.
    "None. I don't remember anything after entering a bar last night. Did I say anything to you last night that would indicate why I came here?"
    "Is it that bad that you came here?" Mulder asked, pretending to be insulted. Cringing slightly, though hopefully not too visibly, Mulder hoped that Scully wouldn't ask for details about her little outburst the previous night. "You didn't say much of anything that gave a reason for you showing up on my doorstep in the middle of the night."
    "So what did I say?"
    "I... don't really remember," Mulder replied, knowing that eventually she would get it out of  him, but hoping against it. He tried plastering the most innocent face he could.
    "After working with you for six years, don't you think I can tell when you are lying? Out with it. It couldn't possibly be that bad," she prodded, silently adding 'I hope.'
    Mulder sighed. It was useless to attempt to lie to Scully. She could see right through him, and would relentlessly hound him about it if he did lie. "You kind of yelled at me and accused me of constantly ditching you and putting a 'phantom sister' in front of the rest of the world." Well, Mulder thought, it's the truth, not all of it, but the truth.
    Now it was Scully's turn to sigh. "Oh, God. I'm sorry Mulder. I don't think I really meant it. I was just a little more than drunk." Scully tried for a smile, but failed horribly, "I'm sure my anger wasn't directed at you, but you were the only one near enough for me to accuse."
    "I know, it was just drunk talk, Scully. I know that you didn't mean any of it. You would never say anything like that," Mulder offered his own attempt of a smile. It didn't work much better than Scully's did.
    Mulder silently stood up to get himself a cup of coffee, though they were both still silent when he returned with a mug in hand. The silence was somewhere between uncomfortable and comfortable. Scully finally broke the silence when she stood up. "I should probably go now. I'm sure that by now you aren't thinking too highly of me. Call me if you get any more information about Samantha. Or if you need any help."
    Scully walked to the sink and deposited her mug there. She saw her purse by the door and picked it up. "I'll talk to you later, Mulder," she said, and let herself out.

*    *    *

    Scully sat in her car for several minutes before turning it on. Knowing that there was no one to hear her if she thought out loud, she did. "God, why did I have to go do that!?" Scully sighed. She had sensed that what Mulder had said wasn't the entire truth of what she had said, though she got a pretty good idea of what the rest had been. She had been thinking it all day. Whoever had said that drinking and driving was a bad combination was right-it took her places she really shouldn't go when drunk.
    Scully had a several hours to kill before she had to be at her mother's house for dinner. She drove around town aimlessly for an hour or so before slowly making her way back to her apartment. Her headache was slowly receding and with any luck she'd be able to cover up the circles under her eyes so that she wouldn't have to explain to her mother why she had gotten so drunk the previous night.
    A hot shower made Scully feel much better, and she felt that it also helped her appearance some. Not in the mood to dress up, Scully chose a pair of comfortably worn blue jeans and a t-shirt to wear to dinner. She didn't bother to dry her hair, but just twisted it up and clipped it. Then she applied some make-up. Mom, won't mind if I show up early, she thought as she walked down to her car.

*    *    *

    The Cigarette Smoking Man looked across the room to the woman who lay strapped to the gurney. Currently, she was drugged, but eventually she would wake up and he would have to be prepared to give her a reason for her being here. The truth was most definitely not an option.
    Though what did it matter if she knew her true reason for being here? In a few hours her memory would have to be... altered anyway. By now it was a reasonably well developed skill with doctors specially chosen for the Project, but the Smoking Man always wondered if the frequent procedures would hurt the woman in the long run. Though Fox might not see it, the Smoking Man had always a soft spot for the Mulders, Samantha being no exception.

*    *    *

    Remembering Scully's words the night before-the ones she didn't remember speaking, and he hadn't shared with her-Mulder considered calling her and asking her to come with him when he went to the clinic to see if anyone there had any further idea of where Sam might be. Mulder decided against it, figuring that Scully most likely had plans. He thought he remembered her saying at one point that when she had Sunday evenings off, she spent them at her mother's.
    He sighed and hoped that Samantha's vet clinic was open on Sundays. Before he left, Mulder showered and dressed in clean clothes. Using music to distract his thoughts, Mulder thought very little of Samantha.
    When he arrived at the address printed on the colorful business card, the lights were off inside the building, though there was a sign in the glass of the door. Mulder got out of his car to read the sign.
    The sign read:

Until further notice, the Happy Pet Vet Clinic will not be open, due to the absence of Dr. Samantha Garret. If you need to pick something up, please call and leave a message and someone will return your call with a good time to come back. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may pose.
During Dr. Garret's absence the following veterinarian clinic can be used:

Under that was another vet clinic reference.

    On the off chance that someone would be in the building, Mulder knocked on the glass. By some miracle, someone came to the door. It was a young blonde woman. She was probably in her late teens and was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt.
    "Can I help you?" she inquired from behind the glass. Judging by the look on her face, she wasn't too happy at being disturbed. "In case you didn't read the sign, Dr. Garret isn't here at the moment."
    "I read it. In fact, that's why I'm here," Mulder replied. He flashed his FBI badge and continued, "I am Agent Mulder with the FBI. I was wondering if you had any idea where Dr. Garret  is?"
    The woman unlocked and opened the door. She stepped aside so that Mulder could enter. "I'm sorry I was rude earlier, it's just that so many people keep banging on the door demanding to know why we can't operate without Sam-Dr. Garret and it's really been getting to me. And answering your question, I don't know where she is. Yesterday Dr. Garret didn't show up for work at noon like she was supposed to. Then around two we received a frantic call from her saying that she would be gone until further notice, so we should probably close except for routine appointments and just put up the name of a friend's clinic for emergency appointments until she gets back since we can't do much of anything without her."
    That new information threw a wrench into Mulder's thoughts of Samantha being kidnapped by the Cigarette Smoking Man because if she had been kidnapped, how would she be able to call? Unless the Smoking Man made her call... Anyway, he'd have to worry about that later, for now he had to get all the information he could from this nurse.
    "Do you have her home phone number and address? I would like to ask her husband a few questions, see if he has any better idea about Sa- Dr. Garret's whereabouts," Mulder asked.
    "Sure," she replied slowly. "Let me get it for you. I'll be right back." The woman said before proceeding to behind the counter to find a scrap piece of paper.
    Mulder looked around the waiting room while the nurse was busy. A picture of groups of cats and dogs and birds was on the wall facing the door and on the wall facing the counter was a photograph of a smiling boy with his puppy. In the corner was a toy barn with several kinds of farm animals scattered around it for the children to play with. Five chairs lined the walls, slightly more comfortable looking than most doctor's offices had.
    The nurse returned quickly and handed Mulder a slip of paper with Samantha's home phone number and  address.
    "Thank you. Please call me if you hear from Dr. Garret again," Mulder said, pulling a business card from his pocket. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know."
    Mulder returned to his car, and looked at the address on the paper the nurse had given him. He didn't recognize the street, so he pulled out a map from underneath his seat. The street was easy to find, and Mulder figured out how to get there quickly.

*    *    *   

    Scully knocked once on her mother's door before letting herself in. "Hi, Mom," she called.
Her mother's response came from the back of the house, "Hi, sweetheart. I'm in my room. Sit down somewhere and I'll be out in a second."
    Scully went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice before sitting at one of the counter stools. She passed the dining room and took note of the four place settings and wondered who else would be coming.
    The kitchen was filled with the aroma of a cooking meal, though Scully couldn't exactly identify what she was smelling. Most likely a casserole, she thought.
    Before she had a chance to give more thought to what would be dinner, Margaret walked into the kitchen. "I'm surprised to see you here so early, Dana. I was expecting you here later."
    "I didn't have anything else to do today, so I thought I'd drop in early and help you with dinner."
    "That was nice. Though you should know by now that I don't let anybody help me when I'm cooking," Margaret replied.
    "I know. I figured I could help set the table or something like that. Though I saw that you beat me to that when I walked past the dining room. By the way, who else is coming for dinner?" Scully asked.
    "I meant to call you and let you know, but I didn't get a chance. A friend of mine is coming with her son. He is a lawyer around your age. I though the two of you might like each other so I invited them over."
    Scully groaned. "You know I hate it when you try to set me up with men!"
    "Well you haven't been doing to well lately setting yourself up with any men!" her mother replied, a partial smile playing on her lips.
    "Maybe that's because I haven't been trying!" Scully finished with an exasperated sigh. "Anyway, if you insist on being a matchmaker, you can at least give me some warning so I can attempt to look half-decent!"
    "You look fine! As I said, I meant to, honey. I was not expecting you so early," Margaret told her.
    "It's too late to do anything, so let's just make the best of it. I'll finish setting the table while you make dinner. What time is your friend coming?" Scully asked. She then leaned over so that she could see the clock and figure out how long she had until they had company. It was 4:45.
    "I was planning on having them come over a bit earlier than you usually do. I told them that if they were her by five that would be alright. Then I'd be able to introduce you to them when you arrived," Margaret replied, knowing that her daughter would not like the idea much.
    Scully just sighed again. "Well then, we had better get going. It's obviously too late to do anything about it, so let's just make the best of it."
    Twenty minutes later, the table was set and the food was set out on the kitchen counter, waiting for the guests to serve themselves. Scully was drying her freshly washed hands when the doorbell rang.
    She heard her mother call from the kitchen, "I got it, honey."
    "I'll be out in a second," Scully replied.
    Scully entered the family room as her mother was greeting her friend and her son. When Margaret caught sight of Scully, she made the proper introductions. "This is my daughter, Dana. Dana, this is Estelle Sherad and her son Mark."
    "It's nice to meet you," Scully answered, extending her hand. Estelle shook it first, and then Mark.
    "It's nice to meet you, too," Mark replied.
    "I'm glad that I finally got to meet you, Dana. I've heard so much about you from your mother," Estelle said.
    With a smile, Scully answered, "All good I hope."
    Estelle flashed her own smile, "Of course."
    "Would anyone like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Soda?" Margaret asked.
    "Coffee, for me," Estelle replied.
    "Soda, please," Mark answered.
    "I'll have tea. I'll go put on the hot water. Excuse me," Scully said. She went to the kitchen while her mother took the Sherad's coats.
    Scully added water to the kettle and then placed it on the burner. "Regular or decaf coffee?" she called to Estelle.
    "Regular, please," Estelle called back.
    Scully took the coffee out of the cabinet and spooned enough for two cups of coffee since she knew that's what her mother would have. She then reached into another cabinet for three mugs and a glass. She added a few ice cubes to the glass and then poured some Coke into it.
    She brought it to Mark and then addressed the other women, "The coffee will be ready in a minute." The kettle began to whistle, and Scully returned to the kitchen to make her tea.
    Mark set his glass on the table and then excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands.
    To Estelle, Margaret commented quietly so that Scully wouldn't overhear her, "Dana arrived early today, before I had a chance to tell her that you were coming over, so she was a bit unprepared. She'll warm up to you in just a little bit. Don't worry."
    Estelle assured Margaret that it was alright. With a smile, she added, "It also takes Mark a while to warm up to strangers. From the sound of it, by the end of dinner we'll all be chatting as if we've known each other forever!"
    "I'm sure we will," Margaret confirmed.

*    *    *   

    The Garrets lived in a quaint, one-level cream and pastel colored house in a nice neighborhood. Down the street Mulder saw a few kids playing basketball. He thought back to a time when he, too, played basketball out on the street in front of a neighbor's house. Mr. Garret had answered the door after only one knock. Mulder had debated over whether to introduce himself to Samantha's husband as her brother or an FBI agent, and finally decided on both.
    "Mr. Garret?" Mulder asked.
    "Yes, how can I help you?" he asked. He sounded tired.
    Mulder pulled out his FBI badge and showed it to Mr. Garret. "I am Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. I am also Samantha's brother."
    "Samantha has no siblings, Mr. Mulder," Mr. Garret replied, his voice almost cold.
    "You are almost correct. Since she was.. kidnapped when she was eight she has had no siblings. But for the first eight year of our lives, she did. I talked to her yesterday, before she disappeared. If you like, I will share with you our conversation."
Mr. Garret's face paled slightly, "Sure, come in."
    "Thank you," Mulder replied.
    "Does Samantha's disappearance have anything to do with FBI business or is the FBI only involved because of your relation?" Mr. Garret asked once they were seated on the couch in the living room.
    "So far, her disappearance has nothing to do with the Bureau," Mulder said out loud, but mentally added 'Until I find out just how deep Cancer Man is involved.' Mulder would have sworn he heard Mr. Garret sigh in relief.
    "Before you start, let me tell you what I know of Samantha's past. She told me that when she was around eight, her family was in a fatal car accident and she was the only one who survived. She remembers none of this, but was told what happened while recovering in the hospital. Not long after that, the Cravats adopted her and raised her as though she was theirs from birth. She was never very willing to talk about her real family, though she did tell me that she had a brother, Fox," Mr. Garret told Mulder.
    "To begin with, I should probably tell you that Samantha had contacted me, not the other way around. When Sam was eight and I was twelve, one evening when our parents were out, Samantha was abducted. I remember very little about that night, however. For years I have been looking for her, but have never had any luck, most likely because I was looking for a Samantha Mulder, not a Samantha Cravat. Sam told me about the supposed car accident. She also told me that a man had contacted her, telling her that I was alive. From the description Sam gave of the man, he appears to be a mutual... acquaintance. He is also the cause of her disappearance if the waitress I talked to described the same man. I need you to think if you have ever seen the man before," Mulder said. He described the Cigarette-Smoking Man to Mr. Garret, being sure to include every detail he could think of.
    "No, no, I don't think I have ever seen that man. Have you tried sending his picture to any of the local police departments?" Mr. Garret asked.
    "It isn't worth it. This man is only seen when he wants to be seen. I've learned that many times through out the years I have known him." Mulder sighed. "Since you have never seen this man, I doubt that you have any idea where he would have taken her. Thank you for your time."
Mulder stood up, pulled a business card out from his pocket, and handed it to Mr. Garret. "Please don't hesitate to call me if you can think of anything, however unimportant it may seem."
Mr. Garret thought for a moment, then said, "Samantha had several meetings with someone this past week, though I don't know where or with who. She was only gone about half an hour each time. I don't know if that has anything to do with that man or not. I wish I could have been of more help, Agent Mulder."
    "So do I. So do I." Mulder whispered, though so low that he himself could barely hear it.
    "Thank you for speaking with me," Mulder said, and shook hands with Mr. Garret before leaving.
    The next step in Mulder's investigation was to question Skinner about what he knew. There was little chance that Skinner would tell Mulder anything, whether he knew anything or not, but he didn't know what else to do.

*    *    *

    By mid-dinner, Margaret's dinner guests had begun to have a reasonably lively conversation. Not quite like they had known each other forever as Estelle had jokingly predicted though, but better than when they had arrived.
    Mark was talking about a few of his past cases, the more amusing ones, when they began dessert. He was awarded with smiles and laughs from all three women throughout his stories.
    Scully felt something wet on her lip and reached to wipe it off, figuring it was just a drop of tea that had splashed out of her cup. She looked at her finger tip to see if it was indeed tea or not. It was blood. She was used to the nosebleeds, but she had thought she was better. A wave of worry hit her. 'Was her cancer back?' she repeatedly asked herself, praying it wasn't. The thought of possibly having to go through all that again made her sick to her stomach. First thing tomorrow she would make an appointment with her doctor to check.
    No one else had noticed the blood. They were all deeply involved in conversation and did not seem to notice that Scully had stopped adding comments.
    Tilting her head back slightly with one hand to her nose, Scully excused herself to the bathroom.
    When her nosebleed stopped, she washed her face with a washcloth. She scrubbed the few drops off her fingertips. When she had calmed down some, on the outside anyway, Scully returned to the table.
    "Is everything alright honey?" Margaret asked, concern filled her voice.
    "Yes, I'm just a bit tired. I think I'm going to go home after dessert. I do have to be at work bright and early as always," Scully assured her mother, though by the look on her face, Scully knew that her mother wasn't buying it. Scully silently promised to tell her mother what was bothering her. After she had seen the doctor.
    After they finished dessert, Scully helped her mother clear the dishes before putting on her  coat. She hugged her mother goodbye and thanked her for dinner. Scully also promised to call soon.
    Then she shook hands with Estelle and Mark. Pulling out a business card, she handed it to Mark. "Call me sometime later this week and maybe we can do something."
    He took it and replied, "Sure."
    "Thanks again for dinner, Mom. It was nice meeting you, Estelle and Mark. I'll talk to you all  later. Goodnight," Scully said as she stepped out into the chilly night.

*    *    *

    Mulder was jogging along a stretch of unpopulated beach. He looked around, pondering why no one else was running or playing or sitting at the beach. He surely couldn't be the only person who ran in early twilight...
    He wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been running, but figured it must have been a while because he was beginning to tire. He looked out at the water. The many colors that painted the sky reflected in the water. In the distance, he saw a pair of flailing arms. He stopped and looked again to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. The arms were still there. He ran into the water and broke into a swim as soon as it was deep enough.
    As he neared the woman, he heard her yelling for help. "Help! Please help me! Fox, I need your help!"
    Samantha? What was Samantha doing here? he asked himself.
    He could see her about five yards ahead of him. She looked exactly like the woman he had met in the diner the day before. He swam for about two more yards before he heard another voice. It wasn't as close as Samantha's, but he could recognize it instantly.
    "Help me, Mulder! Help! Please help me!" Scully cried, barely staying above water.
    Mulder was more confused than ever. How did both Samantha and Scully end up in the ocean, fighting to stay above the water? How did he not hear Scully calling him before?
    He turned around to see how far Scully was from him. She was another several yards to Samantha's left. There was a look of pure terror on Scully's face. He could tell that she was fighting a losing battle against the water.
    He was forced to make a choice between Scully and Samantha. He looked from one woman to the other, unable to choose.
    All of a sudden both of their cries disappeared. Neither women could be longer seen. It was as if they had never been there in the first place.
    With a start, Mulder woke up. He was drenched in sweat and sitting on his couch. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming in quick gasps.
    It was only a dream, he tried telling himself, though it did little good. It had felt too real to be a dream.
    Several minutes later, Mulder had calmed down. He considered calling Scully to make sure she was alright, and finally decided he would go insane worrying about her if he didn't talk to her.
Not worrying about the time, Mulder picked up his phone and dialed Scully's home number. She picked up after the second ring.
    "Hello?" she said, surprisingly awake. Mulder figured that she would have been sleeping.
    "Hi, it's me. Did I wake you up?" Mulder asked.
    "No, I was still up," Scully replied.
    Mulder looked at the clock on his VCR. "At 2:15 in the morning you are still awake?"
    "Yes," Scully replied a bit testily. "Did you want something other than to see if I was still up?"
    "Yes, I wanted to make sure you were alright."
    Scully hesitated for a moment. Did he somehow know about her nosebleed? Scully asked herself. Impossible, her mind replied. How could he?
    "I'm fine. Why would you think otherwise?" she asked. Mulder didn't need to worry about her nosebleeds. It could be nothing, anyway. Why bother him unnecessarily?
    "I don't know. Just had a bad feeling about something. OK. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll let you go. See you tomorrow morning. 'Night," Mulder said.
    "See you then. Good night," Scully responded, gently replacing the phone. She flipped off the light next to the phone and lay back down. Maybe she could finally get some sleep.
    She had been lying in her bed since ten o'clock, unable to sleep. She was worried about how her tests would come back the next day. She didn't know how she could deal with a relapse of cancer, if that really was the problem. It would not only work on destroying her from the inside out, but it would slowly eat away at Mulder's soul as well. Scully had seen how tormented he had been last time she had been in the hospital fighting cancer. It had nearly destroyed him. She couldn't watch him go through that again. She could only pray that her cancer was gone for good and would never return.
    Finally, Scully fell into a troubled sleep, her fears of a returning cancer plaguing her dreams.

 

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