DeadAlive

Previously on The X-Files, alien space ships started dropping abductees in deserted fields and leaving them for dead. Everyone's favorite doomsday cult leader, Absalom, and everyone's favorite faith healer, Jeremiah Smith, plucked them off the ground and healed them up real good. They tried to help Mulder, but the stupid FBI crashed in and interrupted them. Now Mulder's dead (or is he?) and Scully is oh, so very sad.

Raleigh, North Carolina. Snow covers the ground. There's a military funeral in progress. Several people -- none of whom is wearing a hat, even though they must be freezing -- surround a coffin draped with the American flag. What time of year is it, anyway? I know I said I was going to give up trying to figure out this time line thing, but I just can't seem to let it go. We know it's after January 28, since Survivor 2 was mentioned way back in the Crazy Subway Tunnel Contagion episode. So, at the very, very, very least, it's mid-February. And Scully told Skinner she was pregnant in early May. Which puts her pregnancy right at nine months. She ought to be dropping the sprog right this instant, and she's not even showing. But, you know what? I'm over that. I'm over it. It's in the best interest of my health and well-being to drop this muddle-headed obsession with linear space and time. So it's over. This is the last time you will hear me complain about the totally screwed-up timeline on this show. Girl Scout's honor. I wonder if there's a badge in this for me. And if so, does it feature a little green alien head? Sorry. Anyway. The minister is doing the whole "ashes to ashes" thing as Scully stands between her mother and Skinner, solemnly looking at the ground. Mulder's gotten a good turnout; in addition to Scully, Mrs. Scully and Skinner, Kersh, Doggett and the Lone Gunmen have come out to pay their respects. "Let us pray now, for [Mulder's] eternal peace," the minister says. Scully purses her lips and tries very hard not to cry. She lets out a long, shuddering breath. Oh, poor Scully. This whole career-with-the-FBI thing has just turned out for shit. I hope she at least knows a good therapist, because after the sister dying/ abduction/ cancer/ abduction/ disappearance of partner/ pregnant with alien baby/ death of partner story arc, she's going to need someone impartial to talk to. Maybe FOX and HBO can broker a Competition Crossover Event and she can have a few sessions with Dr. Melfi, who at least knows what it's like to deal with someone in an unusual line of work.

Slightly later, Scully and Skinner watch, all alone, as Mulder's coffin is lowered into the ground. "He was the last," Scully sniffs. "His father and mother, his sister -- they're all gone." The camera goes right up into Scully's nostrils. The left one is oddly misshapen. She chokes back her tears and weepily tells Skinner that she thinks the saddest thing about Mulder dying young is that the truth he pursued so adamantly was never truly revealed to him. I would have picked that whole part where he was tortured endlessly on a spaceship and then dumped into deserted field naked and left to die alone, but that's just me. Skinner makes a thoughtful face, as Scully starts to cry for real. She snuffles that she can't really believe she's standing there. Skinner sighs. "I know," he says, "but I don't truly believe that Mulder's the last." Which either means that he thinks the AlienMiracleBaby is a Mulder, or that he believes Scully will continue Mulder's quest for the truth, with his help. Or both. Or he's just talking out of his ass. Scully's face is all squinched up as she tries to hold back further sobbing tears. She pitches a clump of earth onto Mulder's grave, straightens up, and buries her head on Skinner's chest. He awkwardly embraces her with one arm. We pan down into the grave.

Credits. My Mulder action figure pokes me with his little plastic finger. "I am so not dead," he tells me. "I hope you're not going to be talking throughout this entire thing," the Scully action figure says. "You've gotten to talk all damn season," he retorts. "I've had, like, two lines." The Scully figure sniffs, "And whose fault is that?" I finally have to sit between the two of them to shut them up.

According to the non-hip, non-squiggly font of location introduction, we're fast-forwarding three months into the future. It's been a while since we've visited Kersh, and I know you'll all be relieved to hear that he's exactly the same: smarmy and totally unable to control the volume of his voice. Skinner sits in front of the big man, looking irritable as usual, as Doggett enters the room. "Smile, John," Kersh commands. I hate it when people tell me to smile. I'll smile if I feel like it, chucklehead. Otherwise, leave me alone, because I'm not smiling for a reason, and it's probably a good one. Doggett lowers himself into the chair to Skinner, searching his lover's...er, I mean, "his boss's" face for a clue as to why he's there. Kersh smirks and hands Doggett a copy of a letter he's written to the director, detailing Doggett's "meritorious efforts" in the Mulder case, and including a recommendation that Doggett be considered for advancement. Doggett shoots Skinner a glance, but the Skinman just looks straight ahead, stone-faced. Doggett explains that Skinner deserves just as much credit as he does for recovering Mulder. Apparently, Scully had nothing to do with it. She just sat home the entire time, knitting booties and watching Lifetime and crying whenever A Baby Story came on. Skinner awkwardly comments that he's already been thanked for his efforts, and has in fact been asked to write a letter transferring Doggett to a division "more suited for his talents." Like the Lurve Division, located in Skinner's bedroom. Ahem. Anyway, Skinner looks real grim about this entire state of affairs. Doggett looks from Kersh to Skinner and back again. The lighting in this scene makes it look like a photograph of Robert Patrick's head has been cut out of a magazine and pasted onto the film. It's very odd. Kersh grins toothily and reminds Doggett that he, Kersh, is "a man of his word." Doggett licks his lips, thanks Kersh, and tells him -- while staring at the side of Skinner's head -- that he'd like to think about the offer for a while. "Fish while they're biting," Kersh folksily advises. Doggett looks at both of them, all Meaningfully, and leaves the room. Skinner checks out his ass as he leaves. Well, he might have.

Lush Basement Office. The camera pans past Scully's gigantic belly as she stands at the filing cabinet. Frankly, she's looked better. I'm not talking about the weight: I mean the clothes. She's wearing this hideous navy blue sweater set, and it just doesn't do her any favors. I know, I know, it's like she's wearing widow's weeds, I get it, but please, she's looked smashing all season, and I'd hate to see it all go downhill just because her true love, best friend, and the possible father of her baby has fallen dead out of the sky. There is no excuse for dowdiness. This message has been brought to you by Pea in the Pod: Maternity Wear for Stylish Moms of Alien Babies. Doggett blusters into the office, and solicitously asks after her health. "Fine," Scully responds shortly. "How are you feeling?" Doggett grins a little bit and reminds her that he "don't got [sic] a little J. Edgar to lug around." Scully doesn't even smile, probably because she's afraid that her baby actually will end up looking like J. Edgar Hoover. She rubs the small of her back absently and mentions that Skinner told her about their meeting with Kersh. She advises Doggett not to ruin his career by getting tied to the least respected department of the FBI. Doggett slams his papers on the desk and reminds her that she's going on maternity leave in six weeks. If he takes the transfer, the X Files will be closed. Forever. Or until Scully comes back from maternity leave. Whichever. "You don't owe me anything," Scully sighs. Doggett repeats his "I still have big questions about this case" spiel and she finally cracks a small smile, and snorts in his general direction. She tells Doggett that she gave Mulder the exact same speech seven years before, and that Doggett ought to get out while he still can. Before he's fathering Monica Reyes's baby and letting her get abducted all over the place. Doggett looks thoughtful.

Just off the coast of Cape Fear, North Carolina, a fishing boat gets all Perfect Storm through the pouring rain and giant waves. After a lot of yelling, the fishermen pull in a dead and decomposing body. Or is it?

Because is just ain't The X-Files without an autopsy, we chung chung, metaphorically speaking, over to the county morgue in Wilmington. The older of the two coroners twangs something about the inconvenience of being asked to perform an autopsy at 2 AM. The younger coroner twangs something about the District Attorney's demanding answers. The older one hems and haws and starts the procedure. He makes some general comments about the body, noting particularly a "certain enviable post-mortem tumescence," to which I say both: ew, and, really, ewwww. The older coroner turns away from the body, muttering that, "short of this body sitting up and telling [them] what happened, [he]'d say [they]'ve got a long night ahead of [them]." On cue, the Body's mouth moves. Younger Coroner blanches and tugs on the Older Coroner, who's all, ha ha, that's the oldest coroner joke in world. Younger Coroner is all, I'm serious. They stare at the Body, which is definitely moving around. Older Corner leans in for a closer look. It occurs to me that I've never had the kind of exciting job that requires me to get up and investigate stuff in the middle of the night. People just don't need copy at 2 AM. Now that I've finally fallen victim to the internet downturn and am out pounding the pavement, perhaps I will look into getting a job that entails the occasional late-night investigation. Maybe I'll join the FBI! Seriously. I'm having a career crisis. Should I join the FBI? Do you think I'd meet a tall, good-looking wise-ass willing to impregnate me? I think I'd want him to marry me, first. Not that I want a baby right off the bat or anything, I'm only twenty-five. Am I getting too deep into the personal information, here? I'll shut up now.

Speaking of people getting called to work in the middle of the night, welcome to Doggett's bedroom. He's sawing logs, all alone in his bed. Ew, not like that. Anyway, the phone rings, and it's the Skinman, making a booty call...er, "asking Doggett to meet him at the Bureau in twenty minutes." For some lovin'. No, because he got a call from a pathologist about a body recovered in the middle of ocean. It's Billy Miles, a young man who was abducted when Mulder was. Doggett's like, so? Skinner's like, "So, I thought we might get some Italian, maybe take in a movie, and then go back to my place and do it, and this is just a pathetic ploy to get you into my car, hot stuff." I mean, "So, now he's alive."

Skinner picks Doggett up in front of the FBI. Dudes, I know it's just a booty call, but I think it's only good manners to pick up one's date at his door. Doggett asks if Skinner told Scully about this latest development. Skinner scoffs that he did not. Doggett agrees to keep his partner in the dark. Because, he says, she "still needs to heal" and she's been having a difficult pregnancy. Skinner sniffs. "I appreciate your concern for Agent Scully," he says, "but I wouldn't have told her anyway, especially considering where we're going." Yes, can't upset the women-folk! Get us too worked up, and our ovaries might burst into flames, searing us from the inside with the blistering heat of our weakness!

So, where are Skinner and Doggett going? That would be the graveyard where Mulder is peacefully interred. The boys spill out of the car, mid-argument. "We're doing more than opening a grave, here," Doggett snarks. Skinner's opening it. Doggett thinks it's insanity! Skinner couldn't live with the doubt! The body was too far gone three months ago! Billy Miles is alive and he was underwater for ages! It's impossible! I have to see! As Skinner and Doggett argue, a big digging machine tears into the ground. If you're going to dig up a body, the big digging machine is really the way to go, in my opinion. Like, when Sheridan was buried alive on Passions after she faked her own death because French assassins were after her, she didn't get dug up for three weeks because the guy who was supposed to dig her up got kidnapped. So, she ended up having to be rescued by Sam and Luis and Ethan and once they all finally got to the graveyard, they dug her up by hand, which I thought was incredibly stupid because Sam is the chief of police, and you'd think he'd have time to call someone and have them send a digger thing to meet them at the cemetery so that by the time Ethan and Sam and Luis and Hank (the guy who got kidnapped) got back from the docks (because they were on a boat fighting off the kidnappers), the digger thing could already have started the exhumation. Anyway, the point is that Skinner is smarter than Sam Bennett, which isn't surprising since Sam is, like, two tacos short of a combination plate, which is not a particularly good trait in the chief of police. Of course, Sam's stupidity gets him in trouble all the time. For example, recently, his wife Grace fell down a huge flight of stairs and had a miscarriage after she overheard that he's secretly Ethan Crane's father, and now she hates his guts and he's just acting dumber than a bag of hammers about it. But anyway, Sheridan was alive once they finally got the coffin open, and they didn't have to take her to the morgue, which is where Mulder and his coffin end up. The morgue is packed -- a fact that the head coroner guy explains by telling Skinner that word of a dead-of-night exhumation spreads real quick-like. Skinner grits that he wants the crowd out of there tout de suite. Doggett herds the masses out of the morgue. The Older Coroner snits that this entire scenario is insane, and he's only there as a favor. He's sure Mulder is dead. "I say it again: insanity," Doggett whispers in Skinner's ear. Skinner purses his lips. They open the coffin. Mulder looks pretty much the same -- gray, and crappy -- but there aren't, like, shreds of skin hanging off of his skull or anything. Skinner stares at him. I wonder why there wasn't an autopsy performed before they stuck him in the ground and why the morticians didn't load him up with formaldehyde and whatnot, but let's just go with the flow here, shall we? We shall.

Back at the hospital, Scully's spying on Billy Miles. Billy looks remarkably disgusting -- his skin is completely rotten and he's all green and swollen. Scully peers at his charts. Suddenly, Billy starts having some kind of seizure. Scully seems to have forgotten that she's a medical doctor, because she just stares at him, open-mouthed. She looks over at the heart monitor, which reflects two heart beats, and a big old question mark where the pulse rate is usually displayed. She makes her perplexed face, and glances back at Billy, who's stopped seizing. A nurse enters the room, giving Scully the old stank-eye. Scully stammers and stutters and acts completely un-Scully-like, muttering something about being a doctor, and trying to fish her badge out of her purse -- since when does Scully carry a purse? -- and basically sounding like a completely unreliable crazy person. She manages to explain that "the man down the hall" is her partner, and that she's keeping an eye on Billy in the hopes of getting a clue about Mulder's future. She beats a hasty retreat, advising the nurse to have someone take a look at their monitors -- they're malfunctioning. Or are they?

Back at the Bureau, Skinner is heading toward the elevator when he has some kind of attack, which seems to manifest itself with heart attack-like symptoms. Remember, a couple of seasons ago, when Skinner almost died? And he had similar attacks? Neither did I, until my friend C called at the commercial and reminded me. I can only keep so many facts straight in my head, people. Anyway, her call jogged my memory, so when Skinner recovered from his sweating and rolling around in agony and stood in front of the elevator and waited for the doors to open, and then they did and Krycek was inside with his little Remote Control of Evil, I was not surprised. But I was pleased. I love me some Krycek. Although I hate to see the Skinman in pain. "All aboard," he says, glaring all Evil Sexy at Skinner. Skinner snips that he doesn't know what Krycek wants or how he got into the building, but that he can go to hell! Skinner limps away from the elevator. I guess he didn't need to go upstairs after all. Inside the elevator, Krycek cranks the Palm Pilot of Death (tm nehallania) to AgonyCon 2. Skinner starts groaning and writhing all over again. The elevator doors open.

Skinner: What do you want from me?
Krycek: Let's take a ride.
Me and the Action Figures, in unison: [girlish twittering] Okay!

Down in the Lush Basement Office, Krycek sits in Scully's chair and plays with Mulder's nameplate. "Word on the street is he's back from the dead," he smirks. Skinner's all, "What do you want, Alex?" Because now they're on a first-name basis, what with Krycek having Skinner's life in his hands and all. Krycek tells Skinner that he's going to give him the chance to save Mulder's life. Skinner doesn't buy it. Krycek idly remarks that he can kill Skinner anytime he wants. Skinner dismisses this minor issue, and tells Krycek that he doesn't believe that Mulder can be saved, period. But, see, Krycek says he has a vaccine that will work -- a vaccine that Mulder knows about; a vaccine that Bill Mulder helped develop. "No vaccine can help the man I found in that grave," Skinner spits, bitterly. Krycek shakes his head. "You found him," he says almost wistfully, "and you don't even know what you've got." Skinner turns to leave, but whips around at the last moment and dives for the Graphing Calculator of Pain. Krycek is faster than he is, though, prosthetic arm and all. He grins. "Push of a button, Walter."

Okay, grossest scene ever. Ever. Nothing you say can convince me that this is not Chris Carter paying me back for all those times I called him a hack. Those of you who saw the episode can just remember what happened, and those of you who missed it can say a quick prayer of thanks to the deity of your choice right now. Long story short: Billy Miles wakes up, removes his respirator and gets out of bed. He then takes a shower and washes away all his dead skin - for, like, twenty minutes -- while I vomit.

Doggett finds Scully in Mulder's room, sitting to the bed holding her partner's hand and touching her belly protectively. Doggett makes his super-worried face. He's concerned about Scully's physical and emotional well-being. Scully heaves herself out of her chair to get up in Doggett's face and tell him that she's thankful to know him, she respects him personally and professionally, and she's grateful for his concern, but no matter what Mulder's chances for survival are, the choice not to open his grave was the wrong one. Doggett opens and shuts his mouth. "The truth may hurt, but it's all that matters," she says. "What truth?" Doggett sputters. We get the first eyebrow of the episode, and that's over half an hour in. I expect more eyebrows for my money, frankly. "About. What. Caused. This," Scully spits. Doggett blinks. They're in the midst of a staring contest when the nurse pops her head in to tell them to come and take a look at Billy Miles.

Billy Miles is totally naked and tottering on his tiptoes down the hallway. He looks like a new man. Which, you know, he is. Doggett looks distressed and disturbed. Scully looks amazed. Everyone watches the naked guy.

Back in his hospital room and all dressed up in a fancy backless gown, Billy Miles tells Scully that he can't remember much of anything. He has no idea where he is, or what he's doing, wherever he is. All he remembers is water, he says, and being on the ship. Doggett: The fishing boat? Scully: The space ship, brainiac. Gillian Anderson looks extremely pretty in this scene, and it's about damn time . "They took so many this time. Now I understand. They're here to save us," Billy says robotically, and smiles. Scully stares at him. "Well, that's great news," Doggett spits. "I'll let you two talk," he says, before turning on his heel and leaving. Scully gives the closed door a minor eyebrow. I can see why Doggett would be skeptical. It's not like anything unusual -- like dying, being eaten by a shaman, and then being vomited up alive -- has ever happened to him.

Scully's finally had enough. She chases after Doggett, and when she catches him, she really lets him have it. She can't understand why he can't believe what's staring him right in the face, she says. He wonders why she even cares what he believes, he says. Doggett bitterly reminds Scully that she told him she didn't even think he was up to this case. Can I just point out a fundamental problem with the Doggett character? He stubbornly doesn't believe any of the supernatural explanations for anything, but he never offers an alternative answer. At least when Scully played the Doubting Thomas she generally had some long-winded scientific explanation for everything, whereas Doggett just acts the whiney baby. If Chris Carter plans to torture all us year with a Monica Reyes/John Doggett one-two punch, and Monica is just floating all over the place, smiling and twitching and acting like a poorly-coifed empath demon, and Doggett doesn't buy any explanation for anything that he runs into, I will take my Tweezerman tweezers and jab them first into my eyes and then through my ear drums and put myself out of my misery, because lifelong darkness and silence would be preferable to that scenario. Doggett sniffs that this whole Billy Miles thing is certainly a medical mystery, but that the patient's explanation is a load of horsecrap. Scully calls him a bunch of things, including bullheaded and stubborn. Doggett gives her a good glare. "You believe aliens are going to save the world?" he asks. Scully has no response to this. She makes her thoughtful face as Doggett stomps off like a big baby to cry in the corner because no one will listen to his non-existent explanations, but he's too stubborn just to take his damn promotion so that he can get out of the basement and work on something of this earth and actually maybe experience a moment of happiness.

X-ray lab. Scully critically eyes what I presume are Mulder's brain scans. Enter Skinman (that's the name of my latest album, by the way). Skinner is sad and dismayed that no one called and told him about Billy. Scully bitterly remarks that Billy's recovery is too good to be true: there is absolutely nothing wrong with him. Skinner doesn't understand why Scully isn't thrilled to pieces about that fact. She twists up her mouth and tells Skinner that Billy's case makes no medical sense. "Something's not right," she says. "He literally became a new person. And I don't mean the same person." Skinner furrows his big bald brow. "Do you think this has to do with an alien influence? Or a virus?" he asks. Scully wonders why he's asking her all these questions. "Do you know something?" she asks. "We're working against the clock!" Skinner purses his lips. "There may be a vaccine," he hesitantly says. Scully jumps at this news. Skinner warily informs her that the vaccine has a price. "This is about saving a man's life!" Scully exclaims. Skinner, master of doublespeak, looks at his shoes. "Yes, it is," he says.

Doggett goes to prison to find out how Absalom managed to cure the abductees. That's all you need to know about this scene: that Doggett swallowed his doubts and did some investigating, in the hope that he could help out Scully and Mulder. Why? Because he's a nice, decent guy, despite being crazy stubborn and deeply in denial. Write that down: Doggett is a nice guy. We all love Doggett. Doggett will be our touchstone season when Mulder and Scully are off in the Cayman Islands, bodysurfing and taking tequila shots and playing patty-cake with their strangely complected and preternaturally strong alien baby.

The hospital set is getting a ton of work this season, isn't it? Skinner skulks around the hallway for a moment before he darts into Mulder's darkened room. Krycek is there, waiting for him. They banter. Skinner needs the vaccine. But the price? He has to make sure that Scully doesn't come to term. Skinner blanches. "You're out of your mind," he spits at Krycek. "No, the answer is no." Krycek swallows. "We all have a life in our hands," he says philosophically. "I have yours. You have Mulder's. Scully has her unborn child's. Let's see who's willing to sacrifice." Skinner stares back at him, real hard.

Doggett's lurking in the hallway outside Mulder's room. Krycek waltzes past him. Doggett watches him walk all the way down the hall before he turns to see Skinner standing in Mulder's room. Down the hall, Scully emerges from Billy Miles's room. Got all that?

Skinner stares down at Mulder's lifeless face.

In the hallway, Doggett stops Scully. He has this sad puppy-dog look on his face, which almost makes me think that...no. Never mind. It's impossible. He's just concerned about her as her partner and her friend. Don't say it. Don't even think it. That thought never even ran through my mind. Ahem. Okay, Scully tells Doggett breathlessly that she's discovered that Mulder has been infected with a virus that will transform him into an alien unless she can stop it. She's amazed when Doggett doesn't argue with her about this entire alien thing, and even more amazed when he tells her that Absalom spun the exact same theory for him earlier in the afternoon. "It's all part of some big alien take over of the world," he dryly concludes. Scully puts two and two together and tells Doggett that Absalom's theory explains why she saw two heartbeats on Billy Miles's heart monitor: one belonged to Billy, the other to the alien. Because I'm sure that earthling medical equipment can monitor alien vital statistics. If aliens even have heartbeats. Unless, of course, they're measurable because it's all part of the hybridization process and -- you know what? I'm stopping there. Scully tells Doggett that she's taking Mulder into surgery to stabilize him so that she can administer the vaccine that she told Skinner to procure for her, and thus prevent Mulder from morphing into an alien. Doggett stares after her as she totters off to struggle into her Mommy and Me Scrubs.