|"'Go home, Scully,' he
mumbles into the crook of his arm.
'I'm not going.' I drag the desk chair
over to the couch and sit. "Tell me what happened.'
'It's not what you think.'
'What do I think?'
He rolls onto his back and stares at me
through bloodshot eyes. Is he angry? Frustrated? Afraid? I can't
His focus slides to the ceiling. 'You
think I need to be rescued.