It wasn't her fault that Mulder had made the deals he did. But if he hadn't, would she be alive? Scully knew the answer to that. Knew that Mulder still did not regret his choices. She thought about the winter barren trees that ringed the center, kept it away from prying eyes. Thought about Mulder when he had good days and was himself, curled up in the library on a couch, writing on his laptop. Could not help thinking about the bad days when he spent hours crying or shivering or hitting his head against a wall. What had they done to him?


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