Hey guys,

So here’s chapter 3. Nothing much else to say that won’t give away the whole chapter. Thanks for the great reviews last time, you guys are the best. Review again and I will reply. ;-)

Thanks everyone, happy super bowl,

phoenix

About ninety minutes later, there they all were, inching along the highway in Mulder’s car. In those ninety minutes, after a lot of meetings with the head of the psych ward, signing so many legal documents his hand was still cramping, and far too many phone calls, it was concluded that Sydney was in their protection, under many conditions, some of which being that she meet with a therapist twice a week, and that she wear a tracer, monitoring her location during “lockdown,” where she was not allowed to leave the house for a couple hours each day. Scully had even made a call to Skinner, who declared that this was now their assignment, which meant that both of their jobs were now at stake because of this crazy impulse of Mulder’s.

He looked back in the rearview mirror at Sydney, who was staring out that car window with wide eyes. The car. That had been one of the first big problems. It was rather strange driving with someone who had never (at least not to their memory) set foot in a car before. Driving just a little over the speed limit, as he always did, had proved to be a little too much for Sydney, and the terrified look on her face didn’t fade until they were moving at about 12 miles per hour.

Yet another annoyed car horn blared, Sydney jumped, and Mulder began mentally screaming at himself. What the hell were you thinking? She’s completely insane!

Scully seemed to be reading his mind, and she searched for something to change the subject. All that she could think of was “Can you drop me back at the office? I’ve got one more report I need to finish.”

He nodded silently, still unable to speak. He turned the car down the road that led to the F.B.I building, the words Oh god this is such a big mistake running through his mind like a broken record.

The car screeched to a halt as his foot slammed down on the brake almost of it’s own accord. Scully opened her car door and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she murmured, squeezed his shoulder, forced a smile, and left.

They inched the rest of the way home, until finally, they pulled up to his apartment building. “Here we are,” he said, with a forced smile like Scully’s. Realizing that unless Sydney had been watching him with her muscle memory, that she might not know how to open a car door, he rushed to the back of the car. Apparently she had been watching, because by the time he rushed to her aid, she was already out of the car, standing dangerously close to the curb and squinting up at the building, marveling at the height of it. Trying out to laugh at her innocent wonder with such ordinary things, he pointed to the front door. “This way,” he said, and she followed.

He decided that the elevator would not be a good idea, she they climbed flight after flight of stairs. She was much faster than he was, and he was panting by the time they finally reached his floor. He led Sydney down the hallway, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Well, this is it,” he said, switching on the lights with a flourish. “Let me give you the grand tour. This is-“

Mulder turned around. Sydney was already curled up on the couch, reading. He blinked, having no idea how she had gotten there. Then he finished his sentence “-the bookcase. And apparently that concludes our tour,” he muttered to himself. She didn’t move. He ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. This was going to be interesting.

And interesting it was. Though Sydney did spend most of her time reading, was as fascinated with the fish tank as she was with the clothes spinning in the washing machine, and still hadn’t spoken a word, Mulder couldn’t deny that the first day with his new roommate had been interesting. He wished he had something to say to her. He tried to imagine what it would be like, seeing the world for the first time. The way she looked at everything, every little thing, like she had never see it before, because she hadn’t, or at least she didn’t remember.

One day Scully came by, her arms laden with paper bags. “Hi,” she said. “I asked my mom to dig some of mine and Missy’s old clothes out of the attic. She was gonna give them away as hand-me-downs, we never got around to it. Hopefully they’ll fit her,” she nodded over to Sydney, who was sitting by the fish tank with a book.

“Thanks,” Mulder said. “Really.”

Scully nodded. “Sure. How’s it going?”

Mulder shrugged. “She read more of the books in my bookcase then I have, but hasn’t slept, eaten, or left the house.”

Scully raised her eyebrows. “And nothing? No memories or anything?”

Mulder shook his head. “Hasn’t said a word.”

Scully watched her with interest and confusion. “I tried to find her in the files at the F.B.I,” she said. “I looked up every one with her description and age in the X-files, everywhere. But-“ Scully lowered her voice. “As far as I can tell she didn’t exist until a week ago.”

Mulder closed his eyes. “What do I do, Scully?” he asked. “I don’t even know what to say to her.”

Scully smiled. “Maybe you just need to give it some time. If it’s possibly true that this girl hasn’t seen the world before, she’s got a lot to get used to.”

Scully tossed the paper bags on Mulder’s couch. “These are for you, Sydney,” she called, and Sydney actually turned to look at her. “Let me know what you think,” Scully said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Was that a smile on Sydney’s face? Mulder asked himself He looked back at Scully, his mouth practically open in shock. How the hell did she do that? he wondered.

“See you tomorrow,” Scully said with a grin, closing the door behind her.

His eye traveled back to the figure in the corner. He squinted at the book she was reading. It appeared to be one of his many baseball books, either the one on the history of baseball or the one that he had taken from the F.B.I. Damn, I’ve got to return that…

But then an idea began to form in his mind. He ran to the window. It was getting dark. We’d better go soon…

He waited until Scully’s car pulled away from the curb and turned back to Sydney. “You wanna go somewhere?” he asked.

She looked up, but didn’t leave her safe corner.

“Come on,” he said, “put away the books. There’s only so much you can read about baseball. Just wait until you try playing.”

To his amazement, a smile spread across her face, and she closed the book.

“G-great,” he stuttered, “but don’t tell Scully I let you play baseball instead of read or she’ll kill me.” He realized that she was still dressed in her hospital clothes. “But you’ll need to try these on first,” he said, pointing to the bags of clothes.

One slow car ride later, they walked across the empty and silent baseball field. Sydney was dressed in Scully’s old plaid shirt and overalls. Mulder smiled, trying to imagine the little girl whose stories he had heard from Margaret Scully so many times. He remembered when he had taken Scully out here himself, after she had declared the baseball was “boring.” He smiled at the memory.

Mulder tossed his old baseball back and forth from one hand to the other. He handed one of his old beat up gloves to Sydney. “Here,” he said. “You put it on like this.” He slipped his hand into the other. Sydney put hers on, and stared at it with that now familiar look of curiosity.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll throw it like this,” he tossed the ball from hand to hand, “and you catch it like this.” He sent the ball catapulting into his gloved hand. “Ready.”

She nodded, and he hardly dared to believe it, but he thought that he could see her teeth grinning. He tossed the ball, and she caught it, only to send it hurling back into the darkness. “Whoa!” he yelled, and ran after it, searching and searching through the grass until he finally stumbled over it. He ran back to Sydney, who was, laughing? Yes, she was laughing, and it wasn’t long until he was too.

Minutes turned to hours, as they tossed the baseball back and forth into the night. They remained caught in the rhythm of toss, catch, toss, catch, until something broke the silence.

A police car sped down the street, sirens blaring. Suddenly, terror grabbed Sydney, and she ran. Mulder ran after her, panic making him run faster. What if she ran into the street?

He saw her trip over something in her path and fall. “Sydney!” he yelled, finally reaching the spot where she lay in the grass. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were closed tight, her fingers tangled in her hair. She was curled in a ball, muttering to herself. “It’s them, them, they’re coming, don’t let them, don’t let them take me-“

Mulder took her into his arms, stroking, her hair. “It was a police car,” he murmured, “It’s okay. Just a police car.”

Slowly, she uncurled herself and looked back up at him. “Let’s go home,” she mumbled.

“Sure,” he whispered. But she didn’t let go of the sleeve of his jacket as they walked back to the car.