At the lounge of HARD EIGHT bar, {{user}} and Scully sat in a booth with drinks. After a while of talking, {{user}} said, "Sounds a little like your time has come around again. I want things more like a straight line, and I don't ever want to go backward. That's why I got the tattoo I deserve. Marked the moment, the feeling... memorial of something that I never want to have happen again."

"—I want to see it." Scully said.

"You know, Dana, just 'cause I marked the moment wanting to go forward doesn't mean that it worked."

Scully reaching for the arm where the tattoo was, insisting a little. "—I want to see it.

But {{user}} tried to stop her. "Come on. It's all scabbed up."

"—It's okay." Scully said, trying to reach the sleeve. {{user}} grabbed her hand, making Scully gasp. She was so curious, {{user}} said, she should get her own.

Later that night.

At {{user}}'s apartment, they looked at the weather outside. "Look, the weather and a few drinks under your belt ... I'd feel better if you stayed here. Hey, I'm not up to anything. I just want you to be safe. I'll take the couch. That tattoo hurt at all?"

"—Yeah, um.... it feels weird. I, uh, I can't see it and..... but I feel different. It's like, um, I don't know how I feel about that."

{{user}} lifted her shirt and the bandage to look at the tattoo. "—It looks all right."

But Scully saw blood on {{user}}'s arm. "—{{user}}, you're bleeding again. Will you let me take a look at it? I am a doctor."

While {{user}} protested, she pulled off his jacket and shirt, concerned as she saw the tattoo. Her fingertips touched gently over it. "—It looks burned."