REVIEWED BY: Jennifer J. Chen ON: March 15, 1999
ORIGINAL AIR DATE: February 2, 1997
I loved this episode, and it surprised me when I read some reviews that didn't agree with my position. I saw it from the very first time, as an angst-ridden, Scully-finally-makes-Mulder-feel-the-way-he's-made-her-feel-so-many-times, Scully-the-woman instead of Scully-the-FBI-agent episode (although the latter does appear). I thought it brought a great edge to her character that has been suspected but supressed for a long time. Now that it has been addressed, I believe that the furtherance of Mulder and Scully's relationship can only be deeper and more meaningful. In short, I believe that this episode was critical in sustaining a realistic acceptance of Scully's personal investment in the X-Files in the future, which brings her closer to Mulder on every level.
3-28-99
The following song, which I believe beautifully expresses the sentiments of this episode, is from the album Chicago: Greatest Hits 1982-1989 by Chicago. Written by Peter Cetera, David Foster, and Robert Lamm. Copyrighted by Double Virgo Music/Little Sacha Songs ASCAP/Foster Frees Music, Inc. BMI.
"Everybody needs a little time away..."
I heard her say
"...from each other.
Even lovers need a holiday
Far away
From each other."
Hold me now
It's hard for me to say I'm sorry
I just want you to stay
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I promise to
And after all that's been said and done
You're just a part of me I can't let go
Couldn't stand to be kept away
Just for the day
From your body
Wouldn't want to be swept away
Far away
From the one that I love
Hold me now
It's hard for me to say I'm sorry
I just want you to know
Hold me now
I really want to tell you I'm sorry
I could never let you go
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I promise to
And after all that's been said and done
You're just a part of me I can't let go
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I promise to
You're going to be the lucky one
And in the end, if I cried, I cried for Mulder. In an episode that is all about Scully, it was ultimately all about Mulder. That is how entwined their lives are, that no matter what angle you approach, you see one and you see the other; there no longer exists a distinct separation. And though Scully denies to Mulder that her actions have anything to do with him, it is a familiar defensive front—we have seen this from both her and him before. They touch each other too deeply, and for whatever reason, find it dangerous and threatening to admit unless extreme circumstance forces those feelings to seep out. Had Scully been mortally wounded as a result of her scuffle with Jerse, you could have counted on some bedside weeping by Mulder, and an honest admission from Scully. But, of course, that is not what happened.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Scully needed this. And because she needed it, the show needed it. It had become increasingly apparent that Scully was nearing a breaking point where Mulder and the X-Files were concerned. She was in too deep, she was losing sight of herself, she could not explain to herself why her life revolved around this one man, a man whom she loved without reason or limit, but whom she could never have in the way she had always expected to love a man. It's been said a hundred different times in a hundred different ways, but in this episode, Scully was searching for Dana...but what made me sad was that she never lost her in the first place. "Dana" has changed over the years, as every person does. Who Scully fondly remembers as "Dana" has passed by long ago—the Dana who snuck out with her mother's cigarettes was a teenager. Scully never gives any examples of how Dana used to be when she first joined the FBI. That's because Agent Scully was already beginning to take root. But Scully, of course, cannot find it as easy as a third person from an objective viewpoint to analyze her own life, and does not see this. She fondly imagines that it is Mulder—the undeniable driving force in her life ever since they met—who has taken Dana away and replaced her with Scully. But Mulder never knew Dana—at least, not the Dana that she believes she has "lost."
I am not denying that Scully has given up a lot for Mulder. To see her young and smiling face in the Season One episodes still has the power to stun me, and at times I do ache for her. But I don't believe she has necessarily "lost" anything—not without gaining something else and making up for it tenfold, at least. But who is to say that the maturity she has now is not simply from, well, maturing? She has to grow and change like the rest of us, and inevitably, it often involves some degree of cynicism. She may miss some of her naivete, but she undoubtedly would have lost that in the FBI no matter where she had been assigned or what partner she was assigned to. But Scully seems to overlook that fact, as well as to conveniently forget that Mulder did not force her to change (and indeed, she is giving him much too much power and credit)...she did that voluntarily (though at the time perhaps, she did not fully appreciate what she was committing herself to). Time after time, we have watched Scully choose Mulder over every other matter in her life. And this action is not one-sided—it is reciprocated by her partner. But understandably, ever blind to each other (as a result of caring too much), Scully does not see that she has changed him as much as he has changed her. Through the years, Mulder's main focus, his driving ambition, his focal point, has more and more centered on Scully. We have seen him choose Scully over his sister Samantha, we have seen him risk his life countless of times for Scully, and above all, we have seen his devastation when he believed himself to be the cause of any harm done to her. This, I know, is all said in retrospect, which perhaps is not fair, but since I am writing it in retrospect, I cannot pretend not to have the knowledge that I already possess about what has happened to these characters and to the show after this episode.
Scully's quiet panic is all too believable. The partners' recent tension, along with her knowledge (even if it is in her subconscious) that having chosen Mulder she cannot unchoose him, her heart is already too involved, yet her relationship with him seems to be splintering apart, and she has to contend with the knowledge that she may be alone, that she may have given up something precious of herself for naught. These are understandable and sympathetic fears. She no doubt believes that to regain "Dana" she can somehow regain the control in her life that she has, without consciously realizing it, given up to Mulder. Like anyone who has given up their heart to someone else, she hurts when the person she has shared it with does not appreciate—or so it seems—the gift that they have been given. To protect herself, she wants to reclaim it before there is any chance of having it carelessly abused by indifferent handling. But for all his selfish tendencies and at times over-zealous enthusiasm for his work, Scully could have chosen no better avenue for safe-keeping of her heart than Mulder. But perhaps at this junction in the series, she has not been given enough proof of that. And proof is something that Scully needs a lot of, to convince her of anything.
Where does one place this episode? It is a valid concern. It aired after Leonard Betts, but was supposed to go before. So were Scully's actions a result of a lot of repressed feelings that she had been having for some time, or were they the expressions of a woman depressed and disturbed by the suspicion that she may have cancer? A mighty battle waged itself in my mind...and it was my heart that finally gave the answer—it doesn't really matter. It can be both. And then my mind supplied all the justifications: for whatever reason, though it had been scheduled to air before Leonard Betts, the fact is that it did not. So it may have been the intent of The X-Files creators to see it exactly as a breaking point for Scully—the perfect excuse for atypical Scully behavior. It doesn't detract from the fact that she has obviously been feeling unhappy for quite some time (though, of course, in Paper Hearts you couldn't see that at all—bless you, Vince). Whether or not she also suspected that she had cancer on top of this is simply academic. Scully needed to realize for herself that she hadn't lost as much as she thought she had; and she needed this discovery period in order to reevaluate her life, and to rediscover a believable, vested interest in the X-Files. She is reinvested not because she has no other option, but because she consciously chooses to be. Scully needed to realize that she has that control, that she never lost it to begin with—she simply chose to trust it to Mulder, on simple faith. The type of person Scully is, she needs to know that her own decisions brought her to where she is now; no one forced her there. And if her feelings for Mulder did offer a great push, those too, are her feelings and not a result of any unwanted intervention by him.
The beginning discussion with Mulder in the basement office has got to be one of the most painful scenes I have ever had to watch. Throughout, Scully is on the defensive, Mulder is perplexed and grows upset because he doesn't know what is going on yet senses that there is something really wrong. But since he doesn't know what the problem is, he can't fix it, and this scares him and causes him to lash out at the one person he doesn't really want to lash out at. Isn't this the way of life, and at the heart of many arguments between two people who love each other? All I see everywhere are crossed lines and miscommunication galore. They are not speaking the same language—Scully metaphorically and Mulder literally, and they hear each other's words in the same way. When Scully asks, "Why don't I have a desk?" she is really asking why it seems that their partnership is so unequal, why she feels like an underling and he her superior. I don't believe that Mulder cares or even realized that she didn't have a desk. I believe that he has gotten to the point where he doesn't think about anything in terms of "you" or "I" anymore, but "our." So her question of, "Why don't I have a desk" probably hurt him a little because she wants to make that distinct separation. But of course, as the one who holds most of the cards most of the time, it is easier for him to accept this sharing...after all, it was his office and it is still just his name on the desk and on the door to the office. Scully, meanwhile, needs to have some kind of assurance that she is not just some sidekick, that she is an equal partner and should be given equal due, even if she couldn't care less about having a physical desk...it's more what the desk represents.
Mulder replies vaguely, "I always thought that was your area over there." I highly doubt that he gave it even that much thought—he only says it because I suspect that to say, "I never thought of you having an area" was definitely the greater evil, because it would come across all wrong. But of course, again, I don't believe that this indifference stems from arrogance or feelings of superiority—Mulder is just the type of person who doesn't think about that stuff. Right or wrong, or too convenient, it's still true. Maybe it doesn't excuse him, but the fact is that he and Scully as a team is already ingrained in him, and he has no idea of her turmoil. No one ever said that Mulder was the most sensitive guy in the world.
I'm no Mulder apologist, don't get me wrong. Though because of DD he is sexy as hell and tends to make me forgive him for a lot of trespasses, I am ultimately sympathetic to Scully. Mulder has been a jerk way too many times and incensed my sensibilities too many times for me to cut him much slack when he's being a jerk, but in this case, my sympathies go out to him. Because no matter how much I can understand why Scully is going through what she's going through, at the end of the day I can't fully take her side because I know that Mulder DOES see her as his equal. She may not believe it, but I have absolutely no doubts on this score. Why am I so sure about this? Is it because he's a non-chauvinistic male who would never harbor such feelings? Yeah, right—no. Is it because she's a medical doctor and is incredibly intelligent and savvy? She is, but that's not why. Is it because she is the only one who believes in him? That's not why. Is it because he would give his life for her? He would, but that's not why, either. The reason why I know that Mulder knows Scully to be his equal is simply this: he trusts her with his life. No matter how you try to get around it, that trust, in its purest sense (the kind they both harbor) can only be achieved by equals. That's it, and that's all.
But Scully takes his purposely vague answer to heart. Even though Mulder really means, "I never thought of your having your own area, I just thought this was our area...though, okay, my name is emblazoned everywhere..." what Scully hears is that he always figured her area was "way back there." She's not in the front with him, she's in the background.
And Mulder could definitely have chosen some better words than to say, "This is your assignment" and "This is what I want you to do." Because yes, it does sound like you're her superior, Mulder, you dumbass, don't you realize this? Even if Scully hadn't already been in a highly sensitized state, those words would have rubbed the wrong way. But she remains tight-lipped and non-communicative, and Mulder senses that something is wrong but since she won't say what it is, he cannot do anything about it. This frustrates him and says things to—I suspect—hurt her on purpose. He wants her to explode, so that she will let out what is bothering her, and then maybe he can do something about it. While hardly noble, none of us can say that we haven't done similar things. In an argument with a loved one our frustration combined with our deeper need to understand and soothe but not given the opportunity fuels some demon and we lash out in defense. Harsh words are spoken that aren't meant, but the damage is done, and afterwards we don't understand why we said them at all. The same thing happens here. Mulder says angrily, "You were just assigned to the X-Files. This is my life." Of COURSE he doesn't believe that. The reason why he's so hurt in the first place is because he believes and wants Scully to be as invested in the X-Files as he himself is. He needs her like he needs no one else, and the work would be meaningless without her. This revelation is something in itself—his work used to be the only thing that mattered to him, but now it has no meaning without Scully. The significance of that is astonishing. If he lost her, he would lose everything. Here, Scully seems to understand that he is frustrated with her, at the same time that she doesn't believe she owes him any explanations. She lets it pass, because his hurtful words obviously stem from a reaction to her closing him out.
But his next words do hurt, though she tries not to let it show—"Maybe it's good that we get away from each other for a little while." It is thrown down like a gauntlet. Scully no doubt has much inner turmoil over these words—she still loves and respects him, no matter how she's feeling, and her greatest fear would be for him to mean them. But she reigns in her panic, tells herself to be strong, that she has to learn not to care. One of Scully's biggest fears, aside from having lost sight of herself, is, ironically enough, that she is not carrying her weight in the partnership. She always needs to seem strong in front of Mulder, because she doesn't want him to see her as an Achilles heel, and give him good reason to see her as unequal to him. If she is weak, then he is made weak, and she does not want to be the weak link in the partnership. So basically, she wants for him to acknowledge their equal partnership at the same time that she is afraid she isn't equal to him. She needs for him to believe that she is capable—which he does, but she isn't sure that he does. What person wouldn't get a little stressed out when repressing all this?
Mulder throws out those words to provoke her further, to make her react so that he can know what's going on inside her. He desperately wants her to deny what he's said, that they don't need any time apart, that she doesn't need time apart from him. But she doesn't say the words he wants so badly to hear, and he grows even more upset. Now the tables have turned—or at least, it seems that way to him. He knows that he doesn't mean what he said, but because she doesn't deny it, it is now as though she has said the words. And as far as he knows, she means them. But he can't show her how much she's upset him, so he has to retain a strong front, make it seem like she's the one with the problems, not him. His, "I plan to discover something about myself. Maybe you should do the same," is purposefully misleading—he implies a control he has over his life that she doesn't have over hers, when it is only a face-saving gesture.
I loved this episode from the first, because it was finally Scully's turn to live it up and meet someone of the opposite sex like Mulder always gets to do. But when she didn't sleep with Ed, I was relieved. Okay, I suppose I can't avoid this discussion. Now why am I sure that Scully didn't sleep with Ed? First of all, she had her panty hose on when she woke up. NO ONE would put panty hose back on after sex, unless she was leaving. Second, the tattoo wouldn't have allowed it—it probably would have made Jerse freak out and try to kill Scully during the act. And third, in TV language, waking up apart—one in bed, the other on the couch, is a DEFINITE sign that they didn't do the deed. Anyway, when I surfed the net a little, and read some reviews on this episode, I was surprised to find that some people were upset about the double standard applied to Scully. Why does Mulder get to perform a lip-lock with several different women, sleep with one, and Scully doesn't even get a peck? When Mulder's old flames show up—Phoebe Green and Diana Fowley, instant tension flares up between Scully and the other woman. Mulder seems on the break of giving in to these women, they are "real" threats...whereas when we see one of Scully's old flames, Jack Willis, they don't even touch. In fact, they seem so distant that one has to really stretch to even accept that they used to be involved.
So I thought about that, and at the outset, I had to agree. But I wondered why I hadn't seen it earlier, why my first reaction when I saw that Scully hadn't slept with Jerse was relief. After much thought, I came to this conclusion: the double standard existed because of their different personalities, not necessarily because of their gender. Scully, as we all know, has always been a proponent of a "normal" life—she yearns for it at times, or else what she has been taught to want. Mulder, on the other hand, harbors no such desire...he doesn't even know what it is, really (think of the beginning conversation in Dreamland). With these two different outlooks on life, it is necessarily more risky to introduce a possible life-partner for one than another. In short, to involve Scully with a man is much more dangerous to the Mulder/Scully relationship than to involve Mulder with a woman. We may not like it, but it's true. And that's why I understood that Scully could not sleep with Ed.
Scully thinks she wants a normal life. I think if she had it, she'd be bored to tears, but it still remains that she thinks she wants it. She also wants Mulder, but she thinks she can't have him in that way. So in her mind, she can't have both. I truly believe that ultimately, Scully wants a partnership with Mulder in every way—but she doesn't think he reciprocates those feelings, or ever will. She learned that in Season One (Friend: "I thought you said he was cute." Scully: "Yeah, but he's a jerk. He's not a jerk. He's obsessed with his work."), and Scully is not the type who will risk getting burned if she knows she can avoid it. In many ways she's as much of an emotional coward as Mulder. It's how they've managed to get so far together, and not have dealt with it at all. Everyone around them seems to be able to recognize their feelings but them. Scully read Mulder with complete accuracy in the beginning of their relationship—if she had shown anything but professional interest in him it would likely have alienated (pardon the expression) him. But she's too close to the situation, and doesn't recognize that things have changed, that he's changed, that she's the one who has changed him. When it comes to Mulder, she operates on many of the conclusions she reached about him during their introductory period—not realizing that many no longer apply.
That being said, it's easy to see why Scully thinks she has to choose—when the time comes—between Mulder as a platonic friend or a "normal" life. Scully is no martyr, nor is she the type to put her stakes in a lost cause (that's much more Mulder's area of expertise). So if an opportunity were to present itself for a "normal" life—I think she would take it. I think that the writers realize this about their character as well. That's why it's so much more dangerous to dangle real potential in front of Scully—she is much more likely to take it and abandon the X-Files and the partnership than Mulder. As I said before, I think that once she had it she would regret making that choice, but I do think that initially, that is the choice she would make. You may disagree entirely. I never said that this was the absolute definitive of her character; this is only my own personal take.
Besides, that scene where Scully is getting her tattoo is so erotic that I think it is meant to be a representation of intercourse...the look on her face, her small gasps, the smoldering eyes of Jerse watching her. This is a very intimate act, especially for someone as normally reserved as Scully. Getting a tattoo with someone on a first date is pretty heavy stuff. But the way I judge the interaction between Scully and someone she's attracted to and Mulder and someone he's attracted to, is what I call my fly-on-the-wall theory: to imagine how the other would feel if s/he were present and watching (without the other knowing, of course—or else it'd just be kinky). In this case, I believe the way Mulder would have felt watching Scully with Jerse (the tattoo scene, in the bar when Jerse grabs her hand and challenges, "You're so curious...get your own," and when Scully doctors Jerse's injured arm and he grabs her and pulls her close) would be more than equal to how she would have felt if she had seen him with Kristen Kilar. Sure, Mulder had sex with Kristen, but that was in their second year of being partners, and Scully was missing and he wanted some human comfort (I can't even believe I'm making excuses for him when I wanted to kill him for what I believed to be a terrible betrayal on his part at the time). In this case, it is in their fourth year of being together—and their relationship is that much more familiar and stronger. Applying this fly-on-the-wall theory with other examples, I think we can see that while Mulder may have more examples, the natures of those relationships have been pretty much equal. Scully's infatuation with Sheriff Hartwell could be likened to Mulder's infatuation with Bambi Berenbaum and even Detective Angela White (inciting mild irritation by the other, but no more serious than that). Scully's date with that guy in "Jersey Devil," and also perhaps her behavior with Faux Mulder from "Small Potatoes" is comparable to Phoebe Green (though Mulder is definitely one-up in this case, since he seemed about ready to give in to Green). And Ed Jerse is definitely on level with Kristen Kilar and perhaps even Diana Fowley (and I would say that Scully needs a male version of Fowley to truly even things up, but I don't think I can take any more of her and Mulder separated over someone else). The power of the tattoo is perhaps even more pervasive than if she had had sex with Jerse, because presumably, she still has it, and unless she chooses to have it removed, it is branded on her forever (but even if she has it removed there'd still be a trace of what was once there). Every time she looks at it, it will bring back memories of the events with Jerse. If Mulder ever has cause to look at Scully's bare back again, he too, will be reminded that she once had an experience that she shared with a man named Ed Jerse—and not with Mulder.
I think this episode has got to be one of my favorite portrayals of Mulder. David Duchovny does a spectacular job. He didn't have that many scenes, and those he did have were short, but in them he was able to convey a myriad of feelings: pain, worry, sorrow, jealousy, anger, betrayal, and yes, even love. This in no way detracts from Gillian Anderson's outstanding work—but that almost goes without saying. These two are pure magic together...and maybe it's just me but I don't understand why they aren't able to capture it in their real lives. But that's a whole other tangent. I loved Jodie Foster as the voice of the tattoo. The music in this episode was simple but dazzlingly effective. The silence during the last scene made the words that were spoken so poignant. Rodney Rowland did a great job as Ed Jerse, too. Normally, I don't like anyone who comes in between Mulder and Scully, but you could sense that he was innately such a good guy, and I felt a lot of sympathy for him. The only thing I have to say about his performance (and perhaps it wasn't entirely his fault) is that he leaned against a fiery oven and couldn't seem to feel any of the heat. Anyway, he was cute enough and sexy enough that the sexual sparks that flew between him and Scully were that much more effective. There wasn't as much UST between Mulder and Scully in this episode; most of the UST was between Scully and Jerse—but I can happily say that what I felt coming from Mulder and Scully was an intense love, and it was better. It has often been a fear of mine that as a Shipper, if I ever did see Scully and Mulder get together that the loss of UST would ruin the show, because love is often (sadly) not as interesting. But now I know that it would be better.
Did it hit anyone else how much Ed Jerse resembled Fox Mulder—at least, physically? The same kind of short dark hair, a little floppy in the front, the same lean build. It seemed to me that even while trying to escape from Mulder (whom Scully implies to be a father figure—who is she kidding?), she wanted him. She wants Mulder in a way that she thinks she'll never have—so to have it with someone else who kind of resembles him would be the next best thing. But of course, this was not about Ed Jerse at all. This was about Scully finding Dana. Jerse was just incidental. This is evidenced by their conversation in the bar—Scully explains part of her life to him in terms that are so convoluted as to be utterly incomprehensible to him. He raises his hands in puzzlement—but she isn't doing this for them; she's doing it for her. She was cleansing out her mind and her feelings and he was a convenient sounding board. He was willing to listen when the person she wanted to have listen to her wouldn't. Mulder wouldn't hear what she was trying to say when she asked for a desk, but Ed was hearing her. Too bad for him that she never means for him to understand any of it.
I didn't admire Mulder's denseness, but I could feel his pain and love, so I forgave him for it. In almost every way he could, he showed his dependence on Scully, his concern, his care. Because at the end of the day, he does know her—he knows her better than anyone. When he stops his car in the middle of nowhere to call her just to ask her to let him know where she is, it tells me how much he relies on her. When he says that he checked the hotel they always stay at and that's how he reached her, it tells me how familiar they are with each other. When he says, "I knew you wouldn't abandon me," I hear the nuances in his voice that bespeaks of a lover or a best friend who has absolute faith in his counterpart. Scully hears arrogance, she hears Mulder taking her for granted—all I hear is the desperation of someone who would go through hell to reach her, but doesn't have to because he knows her so well. And when Mulder tells her to sit tight, to hang onto the case that she's handed over to the Philadelphia police, it's not because he doesn't think she's not a capable investigator—it's because it wouldn't be the first time that she's dismissed something outright that he had a hunch on. And can we blame him? I for one can't. And his incredulous response to the idea that she might have a date certainly doesn't stem from doubt that she could get a date—he's all too certain that she can. It is more from hurt that considering their relationship with each other, unspoken perhaps, but understood, she could actually accept a date with someone else. This tells me where he thinks their relationship stands. When he calls her to share his "spiritual journey" with her, it tells me how significant she is to his life. When he calls her from the office as soon as he gets in (it looks like), it tells me how much he worries about her. When he grabs for the phone as it rings, hoping, praying that it's her, and the crestfallen look on his face when no one answers, tells me how much she means to him. And that anger, that hurt, those gutted actions at the end that lead to an unfinished sentence, tells me that he believes their lives to be inexorably entwined...when she hurts, he hurts, when she closes him out, he dies.
So now, that ending scene. How can I say that Scully is now more vested in the X-Files as ever? How can I say that she can go on now, having wrestled with her demons? How can I say that she has made a choice, and she chooses Mulder, with a cleared conscience? How can I feel such joy, such hope, when in the end it seems that Scully has gained nothing from her experience, that she returns as depressed as when she left? Because in The X-Files, I have learned never to take anything at face value, that almost nothing is what it seems. Scully went looking for Dana. But she found that it felt more comfortable to be Scully. Scully ends up saving her life. It isn't Dana that she's lost, but Scully that she's found in this journey. Maybe she felt that Scully wasn't her...but discovered that it was all the best parts of her. Outwardly, she seems as disenchanted as before, and still won't let Mulder have an easy time of it. But that's because she's Scully—strong and secure, with a renewed faith in herself. Dana may have been willing to plaster on a smile and assure Mulder that she was perfectly all right—but Scully doesn't have to do that. And she has found that just because she has this intense partnership with Mulder doesn't mean that she has to give up being her own person, that she has to be swallowed up by him. When she says, "Not everything is about you, Mulder," it's true. Most things are about him...but she, like each of us, has a little part of herself that is only hers, what makes her unique, and what attracts Mulder to her in the first place. She goes on to say, "This is my life." Scully has found her strength again, and confidence in herself and her choices. This means, of course, that she can also accept that she has chosen Mulder and her work over every other facet of life, and not have to worry that she has made the wrong decision or that she has "lost" herself in the process, because as recent events have shown her, she hasn't. So Mulder should actually be relieved, if he knew this. But he doesn't necessarily see this, and his response to her claim breaks my heart. "Yes, but it's m—" and he stops. I think we can all appreciate how significant it is that Mulder—emotionally stunted, often insensitive and defensive Mulder, comes so close to saying what he almost says out loud to her. It is a desperate admission, halted only because he believes that she will either take them the wrong way (as in him being possessive or somehow trying to take over her life and not respect the boundaries she has set) or worse, refute such a claim. The unspoken words say volumes.
So if in the end I cry for Mulder, it is because he is the one left in the dark while laying himself bare to Scully. He accepts Scully's important place in his life like he accepts most other things, on faith. The how and why can come later. But Scully questions, fights, and argues—that is who she is. If in the end she reaches the same conclusion, they will both have gotten there on their own terms, making the end result all the more satisfying.
There is an amazing review of this episode out there written by Paula Graves. It astounded me by how well it was able to ferret out all the nuances of what occurred and how it was able to look beyond the surface (by bringing in some theory I once heard at a university communications class) to better understand the communication (or rather, the lack of it) between Mulder and Scully in this episode. Check out Paula Graves' Review of Never Again. I promise you won't regret it. Please note that she has two reviews of Never Again--the "First Kneejerk Version" and the "More Reasoned Version." It is the latter that I was really impressed with. You can read her "visceral" first review by clicking here.
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