In her years dealing with death, conspiracy, personal loses and torment, Dana had never felt as lost as she did when she had to tell Mulder that not only was his sister (whom he hadn't seen in over twenty years) more than a little delusional, she was was halucinating, and babbling words that no one could possibly string together to make sense. It wasn't that the things that had happened in her life didn't hit close to home. Because they really did. Her sister's death, her father's, her abduction...it was hard to deal with. But every time, she'd been able to turn to Mulder for help and a steady hand to get her through it all.
The problem was, with Mulder, he wouldn't reach out to her. He wouldn't ask for help. He wouldn't let her comfort him, or hold him, or do anything else that could slightly resemble mother henning. Usually that didn't bother her; but this was too heavy. Dana didn't even know how he was supposed to begin to cope with this alone. Find your sister. Realize that she's still very much a sixteen year old girl. Tell her what you know. And in the end - watch as she flips out. And flip out was putting it very, very lightly.
It was awkward to her now, to be standing in the foyer of the Summers' house. Samantha was holed up in a vacant bedroom upstairs. She didn't seem to want anyone, or need anyone. Dana looked around, her arms crossed over her chest. She was in the same room, with the same people who denied there was anything going on in this town.
She decided that she would try one more time to get a straight answer.
"Alright. I want someone. ANYONE. To tell me what's going on in this town. And...before you start, I want you to know that I'm...very irrational right now. So, I'm likely going to believe whatever you try to sell me. But, I'm also very likely to take out my gun and blow your head off if I don't like what you have to say, so I'd play me VERY carefully."