[ Although she does not openly admit it, she cannot remember the last time her own feelings were her own. Falling into the sinkhole that is the Syndicate, Mulder's mission, the masks she put on and the parts she played — until she finally played her own part and was severely reprimanded for it: two and a half years of experimentation for a vaccination, watching her own body rot away nearly into nothing. The end of the Syndicate is not enough validation or justification for her bouts of weakness, for giving up control of her entire body to an alien virus.

It is a long road into the darkness of the void and when she arose, there was no one there for her. No one there but the person who punished her in the first place. ]

Those feelings you talked about in the journal... those belong to you, don't they? [ Her fingers flex against her skirt, as there is a shifting noise. She's crossing one leg over the other. ] While our captivity has both it's freedom and limits, we're still given the chance to our beliefs, our memories, and emotions.

Not everything is as hopeless as it seems. [ Not everything dies, Mr. Mulder her own words echo in her mind. ]