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Scully peered through the barred windows. She looked up into the bright, eery moonlight through the darkness she was swimming in. A cool, moist breeze floated lazily through the window and chilled the room. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her arms. The temperature was starting to drop a lot faster, and the slightest bit of humidity in the air made the atmosphere highly uncomfortable. Mulder was watching her as she stared up into the starred sky. He was in the opposite corner, leaning against the wall. He saw her shiver.

"You cold?" he asked. She turned around to look at him.

"A little," she lied. When her teeth chattered a little, it gave her away. He pushed himself away from the wall and peeled off his flannel shirt that covered his white t-shirt. He wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it around her tighter.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah, but what about you?" she said, concern in her eyes. He shrugged.

"I'll be okay," he said, tugging at the chest of his t-shirt. He reached out and pulled the hair out that was trapped beneath the collar of the shirt. "You keep warm, Scully."

"Let me know when you want it back," she said, touching his shoulder.

"I will," he said, but he had no intentions of taking it back from her. He backed up to the wall again and resumed his leaning. He kicked at the dirt of the floor with the toe of his boot, causing dust to float up and cause a mist in the white moonlight.

"We'll get out of here, Mulder," she said, hoping to create some reassurance. "We did get that call in to the bureau before we were taken here. I'm sure somebody's on their way to help us."

"We sent that call over 10 hours ago, Scully."

"Well, maybe they're trying to create a good plan to get us out."

"Maybe," Mulder said skeptically. He looked down at his crossed arms.

"You must be delighted to be back in Tunguska," she said. He looked up at her, a wry smile on his lips. She had put the shirt on and had pulled it around her tightly, the sleeves were a good six inched too long for her arms.

"Yeah. Dirty water, torture, tests, misery....the cries of the dying....it's great to be back. Lots of happy memories. I think this might actually be the same cell I was put in before."

"Did they do tests on you last time?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Did it hurt?" her voice was soft.

"It was....something. I really don't remember. I ended up getting hurt in other ways, though. Kind of like how we were this morning. Whippings and mild beatings." He paused, then looked at her. He studied her face. "How do you feel?"

"Sore."

He nodded, and went to her. "Where?"

"Everywhere. But my leg hurts the most," she said. She had gotten a deep lash on her leg from a whip. "It'll heal up okay, if I can get some good clean dressings on it."

"Can I see it?" he asked. She nodded and removed her bloody denim shirt that was tied around her thigh. He winced when he saw it.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Mulder."

He carefully stretched back the torn material of her jeans to examine her leg. The cut ran from the right side of her knee to nearly the top of her thigh. It was deep; the blood had dried and was shiny. He released the material and stood up to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mulder. I promise."

"Of course," he said. His arm was aching from a wound he received, his lower lip was split, and his ankle was strained. Scully's cuts seemed worse than that. What he hated the most was the bruise that was spreading across her cheek. She had been thrown against a wall when they were put in the cell, and it was spoiling her perfect image.

"Hey!" a voice called suddenly. Mulder and Scully looked at one another. "Hey!" the voice said again.

"Who's there?" Mulder called out, looking through the cracks dug through the stone wall.

"What are you doing here again, prisoner?" a voice called. Mulder smiled, recognizing the sound of the man speaking. He WAS in the same cell. And the man who helped him escape Tunguska last years before was still alive. The familiar watery, bloodshot eyes peered through the wall suddenly.

"It's a long story. How have you survived?" Mulder asked.

"Not easily. It has been difficult."

"I'm sure it has," he replied. Scully was next to him, hand on his arm.

"Who's that with you?" the man asked.

"My part-" he stopped. Maybe he shouldn't tell him that. "My friend."

"Are you wounded?" the voice asked. Scully could see the concern in the pair of dark eyes staring at her through the thick stone.

"We're okay," she replied. "Who are you?"

"My name isn't important. I know your friend there, though. I met him years ago."

"He helped me escape, Scully," Mulder said. She turned to looked at the man's eyes.

"It was nothing. He did what no one else dared to try," the voice whispered loudly.

There were footsteps outside their cell, and it startled them. Mulder quickly stepped in front of Scully protectively, her hands came up on his back. He heard voice speak unrecognizable words to someone else. They heard footsteps as the unknown person went back down the hallway.

"What did they say?" Mulder asked the ally on opposite side of the wall.

"He said 'Give them five minutes,'" the voice said, worry evident in his tone. "You might be in danger."

Scully looked to her partner.

Five minutes.

That was all?

Mulder's eyes showed pain and anger. They moved away from the wall, standing silently in front of each other.

"Mulder-" she started.

"Sssshh-" he hushed, placing a finger over her lips. "Just....just let me look at you one last time," he whispered. A lump was rising in Scully's throat. She couldn't respond. Mulder's hands came up to her face, his fingertips tracing her features. He started at her hairline, then down to her forehead, over her eyebrows. She closed her eyes at the feel of his touch. The pads of his fingers ran over her eyelids, then down to the bridge of her nose. He paused for a moment then ran his thumb over her upper lip, then her lower lip, to her chin. His touch was soft and warm as his fingers went up her jaw, to her cheekbones, and his palms finally rested on her cheeks. She opened her eyes. He was staring at her, eyes looking slightly watery. "You're so beautiful."

She would have laughed at any other time. But not now. She couldn't. A gurgle escaped her throat from the emotion she was feeling. She slid her hands up his chest, to his shoulders. He leaned forward and barely brushed his lips against hers, then pulled her into a warm, tight embrace. She felt his body shaking from both emotion and the chill. She held him to her, feeling the security and safety of his arms around her. His face was pressed into her shoulder, she could feel his breath through the material of the shirt. They held each other, and held back tears, until the lock of the door was undone. They pulled away, holding only one another's hands. A Russian man stepped in and grabbed Mulder.

"Mulder!" Scully cried out, even though she knew there was nothing she could do.

"Scully..." he started, but was pulled out the door before he could say anything else. She stood there, alone. Wrapped in Mulder's flannel shirt, tears still wet on her shoulder. She sunk to the floor, crying helplessly.

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She gathered herself in a few minutes, and did all she could do.

Pray.

She knelt down on the dirty floor, gasping at the feel of her flesh stretch apart on her lash. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. She bowed her head and prayed in whispers to the Lord, begging for a miracle. Praying for her, and most of all Mulder's, safety.

"Pssst! Hey!" the voice said. She sniffled and looked up at the hole in the wall.

"What are they going to do to him?" Scully asked, walking on her knees to the wall.

"I don't know....we'll have to see. Were you praying?" the voice asked.

"Yes."

"I've prayed for years. Prayers do nothing here."

"Not as long as God is here," she replied. "He won't fail me. I trust Him."

"You have a faith many don't," the man replied.

"Well I have a lot to lose."

There was a sudden commotion outside. Voices yelled.

Gunshots fired.

It was deafening.

BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!

Scully flinched and covered her ears, eyes squeezed closed. It continued for what seemed like hours. After nearly forty-five minutes of turmoil and calamity outside, it finally grew silent.

*Click*

Scully opened her eyes at the sound of a lock. She heard voices in the cell next to her.

*Click*

The lock on her own cell door unlocked. She felt her heart race and dread filled her, knowing that someone was coming to get her. She was next. The door swung open, and she scrambled to her feet. She didn't recognize the silhouette of the figure at the door.

"Agent Scully?" a young man's voice queried. She was surprised to hear her name.

"Y-yes?" she replied, unsure of what to say. The figure quickly moved to her. She saw it was a young soldier, and by the looks of his uniform, he was American.

"Are you all right?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at his hand, then up to him.

"I'm fine. What's going on here?" she asked, as he lead her down the hall.

"We're taking you home. And this camp is being closed down. The leader of the camp was killed when we took it over. The prisoners have been released and are going to be cared for by some doctors at a hospital a few hundred miles away. The Russians that helped run it were captured and arrested-"

"Where's Agent Mulder?" she interrupted. He looked at her, surprised by her outburst.

"I don't know. We got him when we got here," he said as they got outside. The sun had just began to rise, dawn was finally there, warming the chilly northern air. There were camouflaged Jeeps surrounding the building. Russian men Scully recognized were being loaded into a large truck with a canvas cover. They approached another soldier. "Where's Agent Mulder?" Scully asked.

The soldier turned to her.

"He's getting checked out by a doctor," he said. "I think that most of the medical stuff is in the Jeep out there," he said, pointing out to a Jeep parked far outside the fence in the tall weeds. "Looks like you might need to be looked at yourself," he added. She nodded, and quickly said thank you. She shook the hand of the young man who had released her from the cell, then turned and started a quick sprint to the Jeep.

"Mulder!" she called as she ran. She saw a head poke out of the vehicle. And as she got closer, she recognized the face. She was suddenly off the hard, slippery gravel, crashing through tall brush. Mulder was out of the Jeep and was running toward her as best he could with his bad ankle. He was limping an awful lot. They threw themselves at each other....and the impact knocked them to the ground. Scully landed on top of him, panting hard, her breath on his face. Mulder looked up at her and laughed.

"Nice to see you, too," he said, "Right now, you're reminding me of a golden retriever."

She laughed and got up, helping her partner to his feet. They held one another tightly, rocking back and forth in the tall, dry weeds. They pulled back and headed to the Jeep, arms around one another.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Scully said softly.

"Well, we have more than five minutes now," he said, and kissed her temple gently. They got to the Jeep and climbed inside. The doctor examined Scully's leg and gave her some bandages. He handed them a blanket and they curled up in each others arms, covering themselves with the blanket. The vehicle started, and so did their long journey home.