It's cold. The streets are wide and empty and the mist in the rear-view mirror doesn't help to alleviate the feeling of isolation. No birds sing cheerily in the deciduous trees lining the road, nor do animals scamper tracks through the snow.
Scully takes a deep breath and fills her lungs with the crisp, fresh air. After everything this case, this X file, has brought up – long forgotten feelings and emotions, and memories of chasing down the truth – it's exactly what she needs.
She had thought that such a life had ended for both herself and for Mulder and finding that she was wrong in that regard makes her yearn on a higher level for something more peaceful and quiet and normal. Never mind that she was the one who insisted they work the case in the first place.
Normality apparently isn't a welcome thing when it comes to her, anyhow. It's always disturbed by the darkness creeping back in, no matter how far or fast she runs from it. It's always right there behind her, and if it's not behind her, it's going after Mulder. She knows it's inescapable, so why does she bother running?
She has asked herself that question on many occasions and the only answer she's been able to come up with is she wants normality. It's as simple as that. She wants a normal life.
She sighs as she recalls the works Father Joe said to her.
"Don't give up."
What he meant, she's not certain of, but if it's what she thought when he first told her, there will be no choice for her to make on the matter.
Whether she likes it or not, she's a magnet to the paranormal now as is Mulder, and Mulder can rarely let things lie. When he does allow things to slide by, she picks up the slack and gets him interested. The paranormal never fails to draw their attention.
She can tell Mulder she's leaving that life behind and attempt at a life without him, without it, but she knows eventually she'll return. She always returns.