Chapter Text
A morgue is a morgue is a morgue, you have seen one, you have seen them all. She wakes up in one of its slabs and she isn’t scared. There is a dead body next to her and she still isn’t scared. Nothing under that sheet can hurt her, the real dangers lurk outside of these sterile walls. Agent Scully sits next to her, reading a file. She looks up and smiles at her, showing her all of her white teeth. She doesn’t look scared either.
“Dana,” she greets her and passes her a glass of water. People shouldn’t eat or drink in morgues. The dead don’t care but there are procedures. But she doesn’t remember when was the last time she drunk anything. Shouldn't the living take priority? She accepts it gladly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Alive. Which is ironic, all things considered.”
Agent Scully raises an eyebrow. “Do you remember dying?”
Dana doesn’t know to answer this. She doesn’t remember dying but she doesn’t really remember living either. Both of these things should be memorable. Agent Scully seems to understand.
“You don’t remember much, do you?” she asks, pinching her nose. “Don’t answer this. Anyway, we talked about this before, Dana. You are supposed to do. An. autopsy. It’s your. Job,” she enunciates her words slowly, like she is talking to a child. Dana wants to slap her.
“I am not an idiot so stop talking to me like one.” She tries to stand up but she realizes she is naked. It shouldn’t be a surprise, really, corpses are usually naked. But she doesn’t feel like a corpse. The slab feels cold against her back. “You want me to do an autopsy naked?”
“You know what to do. Or you should know. Get dressed.”
“Can I have some privacy?” she asks, irritated. God help her, Agent Scully is a bitch.
The bitch laughs like she haven’t heard anything funnier in her entire life. She can already feel a headache coming. Is she supposed to work under these conditions? Dying should justify a few days off, at least. Someone in the after life must hate her. She stands up and goes looking for a pair of scrubs, ignoring Agent Scully’s continuous giggles. She finds one easily enough, next to the cold cabinets. Every single one of is occupied.
“The fridges are full,” she says, more to shut her up than anything else.
“Really? How surprising. They usually keep the dead bodies in the park,” Agent Scully stands up and looks at her expectantly. She takes a deep breath and smiles at her the way people smile at young children who ask about Santa Claus. In May. She gestures at the metal bed. “When do you start?”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“Dana. Please. This is your job,” she says. She pinches the bridge of her nose, again. “We talked about this. You promised.”
“I don’t remember.” She doesn't remember making any promises, what she ate yesterday, what her favorite book is or how the sun feels on her bare face. How did she end up in this place? Is this purgatory?
Scully slaps her. She looks like a caged animal, ready to maul at her. Suddenly, she is very scared of Agent Scully. There is something unhinged about her, hidden under her severe suit and high heels, a frazzled energy she can almost taste.
“For god’s sake, Scully. You are not helping.” Dana recognizes that voice. The door opens and an older man strides towards her. He touches her cheek where Scully had slapped her. She can already feel a bruise forming. His touch is careful and measured, his hands warm and steady, they feel good on her skin. She doesn’t remember sunlight in May but she imagines it would feel a bit like this.
“This is a waste of our time. Just finish this, we have work to do,” she spits and walks towards the exit. Dana is glad to see Agent Scully leaving. She wants to be alone with the man with the warm hands. If only he keeps touching her, soon enough things would start to make sense. “And for the love of god, Mulder, don’t fuck her. It’s distasteful.”
Mulder? She knows the name, she is sure of it. Suddenly, the hand on her face feels too hot. She doesn’t want him to touch her anymore. Pain sears through her skin and she can feel the start of a scream burning on the back of her throat. She fells on her knees and vomits food she doesn’t remember eating.
“Was that really necessary?”
The man helps her up and leads her towards the metal bed. She knows there is a dead body in there, under the white sheet and she doesn’t want to see or touch it. She screams and trashes in the man’s arms, trying to get free. The man’s grip tightens on her wrists, barely paying any attention to her, his gaze focused on Agent Scully who is leaning against the door. She smirks at him and leaves the room, the beat of her high heels clicking across the floor. The man mutters something under his breath, his grip finally relaxing. Dana knows she only has one chance and reaches for the scalpel that lays upon the tray. She remembers what vein she needs to cut to make a man bleed to death.
“So, you are going to do the autopsy after all?” The man asks, unfazed. He taps his fingers on the white sheet, one, two, three.
“Shut up. Where am I? Who are you?”
“We are in Quantico. I am Fox Mulder, your partner.” Four, five, six.
Mulder, that name again. Dizzy, so dizzy. The scalpel feels heavy on her hand. Seven, eight, nine. Fox Mulder, like a magician, pulls the sheet away and reveals Agent Scully. Didn’t she just leave the room? What the hell is going on?
Twins, her mind provides. “Two offspring produced by the same pregnancy. Monozygotic. Meaning one zygote, which splits and forms two embryos. They will share the same sex,” she recites like a poem.
“Basic biology. Quaint, coming from a medical doctor.” The smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Ten, eleven, twelve. He raises his hands and pries the scalpel away from her fingers. He studies it for a long time, avoiding her eyes. She feels the air tightening around her. She knows she has to try. “Mulder...it’s me.”
“Scully? The scalpel falls from his hands. For the time, it is gone, forgotten. He grabs her by the arms, hard. If there is a tomorrow, there are going to be bruises, to match the one Agent Scully gave her. He looks at her like he expects to see the whole world reflected back and Dana, who feels her world shrunk down to the breaths she takes, doesn’t know how to respond.