"You're still in the 2g era," he says, and for a moment, he's given over to a sense of nostalgia. "Thick as a brick, can't do anything except call people. Here, you can look at mine. Passcode's 0-1-2-2."

Pulling it out of his back pocket, he hands it over to her and gets up to put his remaining food in the fridge. There's more in there than there used to be, but it's all designed to be eaten using the least amount of energy possible. Bagels, deli meat, pre-sliced cheese, a bag of lettuce that he occasionally pulls random handfuls out of. And even then, it's not a lot.

He's mildly curious to see what Scully makes of the phone, to be honest. How quickly she figures it out. The idea of touchscreen technology at a time when AOL still rules the web must be incredible to imagine. Wait until she sees high-definition television.

"And if things get worse..." He swallows, coming back to his chair. There's no solution. Her chip is already inside her, and she's someplace else. But he can't say that to her, not when it means she's at the mercy of the changes others made to her body. "I know how we saved you last time. I'll make sure it happens again."

What that looks like, he doesn't know, but he'll find a way.