Any thought of dinner is forgotten in that moment; the TV's a dull background sound, canned laughter as Mulder turns his head toward Scully. She means it, he can see that much. It sounds like a line in a movie of the week, but the sentiment under it is true. I'm here to help.

Help me, he wants to say. Tell me that the abduction didn't change anything that mattered. He swallows, reaching up to touch her cheek. She's still soft, softer, even - pregnancy has taken away some of the sharpness of her face's angles. She reminds him of the years before her cancer, how round her cheeks were then.

"Tell me everything." He can't keep a strange sort of grief out of his voice. "How you got to...this point."