From: "Dream Cole" Date: Wed, 02 Feb 2000 07:43:49 CST Subject: xfc: NEW: Dream (1 of 1) PG, MSR Source: xfc From: "Dream Cole" Title: Dream Author: Dream Cole E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com Rating: PGish. Nothing graphic. Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between then and now. This is kind of a continuation of Serenity, although you don't really have had read it in order to understand this. Summary: Mulder writes a letter to... well, you'll see. Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't. Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully can't have kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me *any* comments, please! Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. Dream It was all a haze. I can barely remember it at first but then everything comes clearly. Some things stand out while others are just... fuzzy. But this is important so I'll do the best I can. It was a normal day. Well, I guess I should've seen the signs but I can be dense when I want to be. My beautiful bride had been having horrible back pains and nothing could relieve it. She curled up on our bed and tried to sleep and so I busied myself getting the house straightened. Then suddenly she got up and told me, no, she ordered me to drive her to the hospital. When we got there she was whisked away while I was stuck answering questions. I couldn't remember our names, our address, I could only focus on the reason for being there. I think I finally remembered because she, somehow, got the information she wanted and let me go see my wife. I remember opening the door to her hospital room, the way my heart slowed down at the sight of her. Her eyes were clenched tightly and her copper hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, wisps of which stuck to the back of her neck and got in her eyes. Her hands were gripping the rails of the bed and, though she appeared to be in pain, she made not a sound, aside from the occasional groan of agony. Even though she was sticky and sweaty she had a glow about her and therefore I think she was the most beautiful person in the world. Ater quite a bit of pain (3 hours, as a matter of fact, not bad!) we were told she was fully dialated and after that I can only remember pieces. I remember us being moved into another room, and the cries of pain, from both of us. That I remember clearly. I remember there being a lot of blood and then suddenly, out of nowhere, the doctor holds up this perfect child. This infant that we had created. And the baby was crying and I was crying and my wife was crying and I think the doctor was about ready to cry too. He took the baby away for a while and then he came back and placed her into my arms. A girl! I have a daughter. Someone to play with and someone to fuss over. Someone to go shopping with (although I'm sure she'd prefer her mother when she's older) and someone to compare notes on television programs. Eventually (hopefully not too soon) she would have boyfriends and a husband and kids (my grandkids!). And there would be mean friends, horrible teachers and bad boyfriends. But I can handle it all, and so can she. And I know I would never hurt her, never, and I would let anything bad happen to her. I realized then that I would do anything to protect her and would give anything to spend the rest of my life as happy as I was right then. We talked about names. We didn't want to name you something as simple as Katherine, nor did we want to burden you with a name you'd hate for the rest of your life (ahem, think FOX!). So then I remembed what your mother had said you were for us. "A dream come true. A hope for the future. A new life for all of us to treasure and love." So, it was so easy to name you. So that's what I thought. And I know your mother thought so too. We both so happy and I don't think we ever expected anything as wonderful as you. Right now you are just an baby, only a few days old, asleep in the pale pink and blue crib with the fringe at the bottom. But when you read this I imagine you will be a teenager and I wanted you to be able to know what I felt. Because, as you may have already found out, I'm not too good at expressing my feelings. Your mother has accepted it but I'm trying, really. So, Dream Hope Mulder, when you read this remember how I feel. Even when you are mad at me, just remember that I love you and have loved you from the moment you were born, no, from the moment you were conceived. Your mother and I think you are the most precious gift we have ever received and will always love you. Love, Dad Author's Notes: I hope you liked this. If you did PLEASE let me know. I guess even if you didn't, I'd also like to know, but please be gentle! Um, well, I have no one to thank. Ok, well, my own birth mother who I wish I could've met, who wrote in her diary that I was "A dream come true."