From AmieDeNuit@aol.com Tue Apr 15 02:28:13 1997 Subject: An Angel Come To Earth (1/1) From: AmieDeNuit@aol.com -------- Title: An Angel Come To Earth (1/1) Author: E.J. "NuitCoeur" Pound E-mail: AmieDeNuit@aol.com, NuitCoeur@aol.com Distribution Statement: Distribute freely, as long as my name stays attached Spoiler Warning: No spoilers. Just basic knowledge, nothing past 2nd season. Rating: PG Content Warning: Slightly disturbing imagery. Classification: VA Summary: A dream and a phone call lead to a strange occurance. Keywords: Mulderangst, nightmare Disclaimer: Oh, please don't mind me 1013, Fox & CC I know I don't own 'em But if you could loan 'em I'll have my fun An' put 'em back when I'm done! Note: Even though I posted "Hell Is Might Have Been" first, _this_ is my first X-fic since my series "Oh, God" a while back, and is in no way related to either. (Though for the few who've read "Oh, God", no, I can't get away from the Scully-angel image.) Begging: Please send feedback. If anyone thinks it would be worth reading, I might write a sequel. (And the crowd runs screaming...) An Angel Come to Earth by E.J. "NuitCoeur" Pound It started out as a good dream. That in itself should have tipped me off- my dreams, when I do sleep, are either nightmares or the result of one too many videos. This was neither. In my nightmares, I never seem to realize I'm dreaming. In the other dreams...well, best not dwell on that. In this dream, though, there was the slightest, intangible aura of unreality. Then again, there are vague feelings of unreality about most of my life. The dream began in my apartment. I was in the kitchen, getting some coffee. Samantha was sitting at the table. Sam, my little sister, taken so unfairly so very long ago, was sitting at my kitchen table. Not the adult Samantha of the clone incident, but the little sister I'd known before she had been levitated out of our room. A Samantha who was unscarred, who had never faced that horrer. And it seemed perfectly natural. "Can I have a Coke, Fox? Please?" Sam had asked, giving me her own version of my "whipped puppy" look. "Sure thing, Sam," I'd replied," then we'll finish our Scrabble game." "Sound like fun." Suddenly, I missed Scully terribly. I was buoyant with happiness, feeling peacful and content. I had thought, "Too bad Scully isn't here," I'd commented idly, handing Sam her Coke. "Who?..oh! The nice lady you gave to the bad men to get me and the truth. Yeah, I wish she was here, or anywhere but *there*. It's too bad she's there; they hurt people. I guess she's hurt, if she isn't dead." The coffee cup, which I'd manage to keep grasped in a shaking hand during Samanthat's melancoly though casual statement, fell to the floor at the last part and shattered along with something inside me. I'd whirled as the setting had shifted to a barren white room illuminated by a too-bright light. There was nothing in the room, save an exanining table in the center. An examining table where Scully was restrained. Without moving, I was suddenly next to the table, next to her. All the while, a part of me that recognised this to be a dream was screaming, She was gaunt and pale, as she'd been when she'd been returned, only moreso. A multitude of cuts marred her body, which was covered in nothing but a white hospital gown-like shift. Her lips were bloody, her closed eyes swollen. Her eyes flew open as if she'd heard me. Perhaps she had; we'd haways had an uncanny ability of nonverbal communication. I'd always reveled in it. Now I cursed it. That same communication was happening now. She was obviously incapable of verbal speech, but her eyes said more than could be spoken in mere words. ~You did this to me!~ they accused, ~You sacrificed me to the Truth, sold me for your sister. I trusted you, believed in you, fought for you as I did for no one else and you gave me to Them.~ And, painful as all that was, the next look she gave me seared itself upon my mind as what Hell is. ~I *hate* you!~ I awoke screaming, drenched in sweat. I was forced to concetrate on nothing but breathing for a few moments to keep from hyperventalating. Then, the tears began. I cried in uncontrollably, in deep, gasping sobs that racked my entire body. I'm not certain how long I wept, but by the time I stopped I was exhausted. But I wouldn't, *couldn't* go back to sleep and face continuing that nightmare. I looked at the clock- 2:27AM. I thought. Then the phone rang. "Mulder," I said, clearing my throat to rid it of the embarrassing hoarsness weeping brings. "It's me, Mulder. Are you alright?" It was Scully. Dear God, it was enough to make me believe in miracles. "I'm..I'm fine," I lied, my throat catching irritatingly. "Good," her tone spoke of her disbelief, "Did I wake you?" "No, no. I was awake." "You tired?" "Not really." "Well, I was having a donut craving, and there's a great little 24-hour place near your apartment. Want to join me? I could pick you up on my way." "That'd be great." "See you in ten," and she'd hung up. Scully never got donut cravings. She was a health-nut most of the time. She'd known. Somehow, she'd just known. She'd known I needed her, and she was there. I quickly got dressed. Then I did something I've never done before. At least, not since Samantha had been taken. I knelt down. And I prayed. "God, if You're there....thank You for her. Thank You for the best thing in my life. For the woman who brings me the closest I'll come to Heaven. For a gaurdian in angel in the form of a skeptical partner. Thank You, God, for bringing Dana Scully into my life. Amen." Then the doorbell rang, and I rose to go eat donuts with an angel come to earth. -Fin- Once again, I beg response. Send all comments to AmieDeNuit@aol.com. And, if you've read the entire story, thanks. The only one who I've gotten to read the whole thing as of right now is Noogi the invisible yak. (Who, incidently, has threatened to garrote me if I write a sequel....) ~EJ *'Shipper*Fanficaholic #17*Member Extreme Possiblities* *Founder, D.T.R. Society*X-Centric X-Phile* ~The X-Centric X-Philes Page: www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/5138 ~The D.T.R. (Death to Ratboy) page: www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/2441 Seek & Destroy- Death to Ratboy! The D.T.R Motto- To Eviscerate, Asphyxiate, and Eliminate Ratboy!