From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2001 19:46:31 -0600 Subject: CONNECTION by Ewa Source: direct Reply To: ewa@whatewa.com CONNECTION AUTHOR: Ewa E-mail: ewa@whatewa.com RATING: PG CATEGORY: V SPOILER: Bits of everything. KEYWORDS: Scully's POV THANKS: Tamra, this week's connections got me thinking. SUMMARY: Scully's thoughts. DISCLAIMER: Any characters you recognize belong to Mr. Carter & Co. Others are probably mine, If you can use them, I'm willing to share. I don't get paid anyway. ARCHIVES: You mean, I don't have to pay? Let me know where it's gone please! AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please forgive any errors, this is straight off the keyboard. I wasn't really writing this, I was doing the ironing. Visit my site at www.whatewa.com and see what else there is. 01.19.01 CONNECTIONS. I often wonder Mulder, how I even entertain the idea. It was Missy who was into all this 'New-age' stuff; she was the one who believed in healing crystals and auras and dreams. Yet, now I, a confirmed skeptic, a scientist have come to depend on it for my very survival. It's the dreams and the connection I feel between us that keeps me going, gets me up in the morning, helps me survive each painful day end finally gives me some measure of rest at night. Who am I kidding? Rest, what rest? How can I rest when I experience your pain, see you in such agony? But all the while I have the comfort that, while I can see and feel this, you are still alive, still there. When was the first time Mulder? When did this connection between us start? Was it just intuition back then, or had we not learnt to recognize our minds meshing. Think of all the times one of us was in danger. How did the other know? How many times have I come to your aide and you to mine, guided only by that intuition that instinct, connection, call it what you like? The first time, was it when Eugene Tooms was about to hurt me? Or was it when Donnie Pfaster held me captive? Was it my fear you felt? All those times when I was in danger, not knowing where to turn, yet relying on you being there for me. You never let me down. Was it just blind faith on my part? Or did I subconsciously know about our link? Think of all the times I was there for you. I knew, I don't know how-now there's a laugh, a scientist believing in gut feelings. I knew where to find you, I knew where to look. What was it that showed me the way? What told me you needed me? When I was abducted, did you share my experiences as I seem to share yours now? I can't remember any of that. I only remember that Missy was there, but it's you Mulder, that enticed me back. I could see you, feel you. I knew all those things you left unsaid. It was that which persuaded me to come back. Thought patterns meshing, that's an awesome concept, but what other logical explanation is there? When everyone thought you'd died in New Mexico, I saw you Mulder. I saw you in my dreams, I heard your voice and I believed. You were alive, you would come back to me, and you did. When I was so close to death, when the cancer looked as though it would triumph, when there was such misunderstanding between us, so much left unsaid. That night, I swear I wasn't wake, not in the true sense of the word. I felt your head against my body. In my mind, I saw the anguish, the confusion, the guilt you carried. My mind hurt as it was bombarded by your thoughts, your feelings. I tried to open my eyes, I tried to speak to you but I couldn't, instead I let my heart speak. Did you feel my love for you then, did you understand that I never held you responsible for any of it? Do you remember that episode with Eddie Van Blundht, the man with the silent 'h' and the ability to transform himself into your likeness? I needed you so much then, things were so confused between us. For a little while I thought it was you, turning over a new leaf. I so wanted to believe Mulder, I so wanted you to kiss me. But when that moment came, even before you burst through my door like a bat out of hell, I knew Mulder, I knew the man about to kiss me wasn't you. His mind was empty, there was no connection like there is with us. That's the only way I can describe it Mulder. It's as if there was a constant quiet buzz between us, with sudden bright flashes of intuition. And thinking back, it's something that has always been with us. That is how I know you're still alive. The buzz is still with me. We somehow heard each other when we were face first with Robert Modell and then a few years later with his sister. It wasn't my voice that you ultimately recognized, but that special connection between us, that is what I believe save my life on both occasions, that and the love I know you have for me. When I sleep now, when the soft, velvety darkness claims me, I know I'm with you. I float and drift. It's so quiet and calm, and you're there. You'll always be there. *They* tried so often to separate us, but they never succeeded, even now when you've been gone so long. I move to snuggle in further into your warmth, and feel you enfold me; there is such peace and security when we meet here. Nothing, no one could touch or hurt me while I'm here. You too, are my sanctuary, my touchstone. Here I'm no longer anxious or afraid; afraid for you, for myself, for us both. This darkness is comforting, satiny and smooth, my only refuge; one I *want* to be in,*need* to be in. Here wrapped in your warmth and surrounded by your love, I feel safe and know that you haven't left me, that you could never leave me, no matter what. It's here in this gentle, peaceful darkness, that there was no fear, no pain, only the love that we have for each other. I can feel you here. I feel your fingers gently tangle in my hair, stroke it, gently tucking the stray wisp behind my ear. That's always been your job. Your quiet breath ruffles my hair, your hand caresses my cheek, my mouth. I feel your thumb tenderly rub my bottom lip, a finger slowly traced the outline of my mouth. I meet you here. It's a place of safety, a place you escape to when the pain becomes too much. *They* can't touch you here. It frustrates them, they've tried everything to reach you here, but they are powerless. Faceless beings, men, I can't remember; refuse to remember. Are they the same as watched me as they performed their tests? They watch for your pain, looking for reaction, but there is none. You won't give them the satisfaction. You escape them, evade their probing by shutting off your mind. I can help you in this. This is all I *can* do for you now. Even when they try to enter your mind,*have* entered your mind, you close that final door and come to this refuge. The paradox is that we trust each other with our lives, with our hearts, but can't find the words we need to say. But now Mulder, now there is more than just these connections linking us, now I carry an even more precious link. And Mulder, I finally believe. End This must be the shortest thing I've ever written, but I'd like some feed back anyway please. ewa@whatewa.com 'I have laid my dreams under your feet; Tread softly for you tread on my dreams.'