From: Ally112038 <ally112038@aol.com>
Date: 06 Mar 2001 16:48:40 GMT
Source: atxc

TITLE - Dreamcatcher  by Ally
RATING - PG 13
CLASSIFICATION - MSR.  Case file.  
Character Angst
SUMMERY - A series of mysterious 
disappearances draw Scully deep in to a 
nightmare world where nothing is as it 
seems.
ARCHIVE - Anywhere.  You don't have to ask 
but I'd like to know where it's going if 
at all possible.
FEEDBACK - Good, bad or indifferent.  It's 
always welcomed with open arms.  Feed me 
at Ally112038@aol.com
DISCLAIMER - If you recognise the name 
they belong to CC, 1013 and FOX.  If you 
don't they belong to me.  I don't make any 
money from doing this.  Don't sue me.
AUTHORS NOTES - It's my first case file.  
Please be gentle!  Main rambly author's 
notes can be found at the end.  
But there are people I have to thank who 
deserve to be here at the beginning.  
Peggy for a wonderful, thorough beta.  Meg 
and Jina for encouragement and occasional 
ass kicking when I needed it. <G>  You 
guys really should think about a career 
move in to professional stalking.  Amanda 
for making me the most beautiful web page 
to display all this stuff and for 
maintaining it for one who is totally 
computer illiterate!
Susan you came in right at the last minute 
to give this thing a wonderful final 
polish.  You're a professional and you 
didn't charge me.  What can I say?
Finally Pamala as always for just being my 
friend.
Thanks guys.  :-)


Dreamcatcher
Prologue

Northeast Georgetown Hospital, Washington 
DC.  May 16th 1999.

Fox Mulder ran a trembling hand over his 
eyes, closing them for a second against 
the image before him.  Knowing that the 
action was essentially futile.  Nothing,  
not all the therapy, all the blanking, all 
the self induced Friday night alcoholic 
stupors would ever rid him of the sight of 
his partner hooked up to the ventilator 
before him.

His first though as he had entered this 
room for the first time was that this 
couldn't possibly be his partner.
She had seemed even smaller than she 
actually was, the unhealthy pallor of her 
skin suggesting that she was already dead.

He had almost been afraid to walk towards 
her, afraid that in doing so he would 
break the spell that held her hovering 
somewhere between life and death.


But eventually he had made the walk across 
the small space that seperated them, 
grasping her ice cold hand in his, hoping 
against hope that some of his health, his 
warmth, would be transferred to her. As if 
his touch alone could bring her back to 
him.  A futile hope that as the hours had 
turned in to days and still she lay.  
Unmoving.  Unresponsive to the sounds 
around her.  

A touch on his shoulder brought him back 
to thehere and now, and through sleep 
deprived eyes he managed to focus on the 
hazy vision of the woman who had remained 
with him throughout this hellish week.  
But right now he didn't want her there and 
he closed his eyes again.  Unwilling as 
yet to face this version of a reality he 
wanted no part of.

Fox.

The voice was gentle, cajoling, attempting 
to summon him from his own personal 
version of hell.

{Leave me alone}

Fox, please.  I know this is hard.....

{Hard?  Jesus.........Hard?}

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, 
only the continuing reasoning from 
Margaret Scully preventing him from 
succumbing to this wholly inappropriate 
action.

......but we have to go now.

{NO!  I have to stay with her.  Always, I 
promised I would always stay with her...}

He opened his eyes slowly.

I cant do this.  I cant let her go like 
this.

He tightened the grip on Scullys hand.  A 
grip he had not relinquished for more than 
five minutes in the days since she had 
been brought here, and traced a thumb over 
the fragile network of veins that 
contrasted sharply against the whiteness 
of her skin.

{ Two weeks ago I was commenting on her 
tan.}

The thought popped unbidden to his mind, 
and he had to bite his lip sharply to keep 
the tears at bay.

{Two weeks ago I was hitting baseballs 
with her in the park}
Oh God, how had this happened?  How had it 
come to this?

{Two fucking weeks ago we were finally 
laughing again.}

A moan escaped his lips as he dropped his 
head forwards, bringing her tightly curled 
hand to cheek.  Resting it there, no 
longer even attempting to curb the flow of 
tears that pooled in his eyes and escaped 
their confines, making salty tracks down 
his face, a thousand memories of those 
same strong hands, time and again 
delicately chasing away his demons, 
feather light touches on his back, his 
face, his arm.  Communicating to him that 
she was with him.  That everything would 
be all right.
How could he live his life without that 
touch?  How could he even want to?

You have to let her go Fox.  You have to 
say goodbye.  We all do.

He finally turned his gaze to the woman 
above him, a woman, who, like her daughter 
had chosen to forgive him for the many 
wrongs he had brought on them.  A woman 
who had essentially, taken the role of the 
loving mother he never had.  Who even now, 
in the wake of her own grief remained 
strong for him.  Who would remain strong 
even after.........after..........

{after I help to kill her daughter}

He felt the hand on his shoulder again.  
Small, strong, determined.  Just like 
Scully.  His Scully.

{Not yours anymore.}

I need a minute alone with her.

He felt rather than observed the slight 
nod.  Attuned as he was to the Scully 
women, he felt it through the increased 
pressure of her hand.

Ill be right outside.

Mulder nodded, waiting until he heard the 
tell tale click of the door closing.  It 
was a sound hed come to recognise easily 
through the past few days, and then turned 
his attention fully to the woman laying 
prone before him.

She had lost weight since the day he had 
brought her back despite the high tech 
crap they had fed in to her via one of the 
half dozen intravenous tubes that snaked 
out of her body.  On the first day, he had 
demanded to know what their every purpose 
was.  Needing to fall back on hard facts 
to take him away from the horror of the 
situation.  Finding small comfort in the 
fact that the invaders in her creamy skin 
were givers of life...givers of hope.

But over the days that followed, the hope 
had waned, until he was forced to confront 
the reality of her situation.  No amount 
of feeding, of nurturing, of loving her 
was ever going to bring her back to him.  
By doing so they were just prolonging the 
agony for all of them......and now the 
decision had been taken.  

It was time to stop.

It was time to let her go.

Still holding her hand, Mulder eased 
himself carefully on to the bed beside 
her, unwilling even now to dislodge or 
disturb the equipment surrounding her.  
Her body rolled slightly against the 
pressure and rested against him, and even 
through the layers of sheets and blankets 
designed to keep her warm now that her 
temperature had dropped so low, the feel 
of her made his heart constrict painfully.

Every emotion in his conscious mind 
screamed at him to just gather her up in 
his arms and take her to someplace safe 
where nothing and no one would ever harm 
her, to protect her as he had always vowed 
to do and almost unbidden he raised her 
slender frame slightly so as to cradle her 
against his chest, holding her against him 
as he stroked her hair, her face, her 
back.
Trying to say goodbye.  Trying to tell her 
all the things she had needed to hear in 
life.  The things he had never told her 
through some stupid misplaced sense of 
pride.  The tears continued to flow.

{Not enough time.  There was never enough 
time for me to tell you.  Never enough 
words to express what you mean to me.}

Im sorry Scully.  So sorry I never told 
you.  So sorry I wasnt there for you when 
you needed me.  Im sorry for a thousand 
things that youll never hear...........

His voice finally broke, and Mulder 
pressed his lips to the crown of her head.  
Breathing in the scent of her that 
lingered despite all the medical staffs 
best efforts at dehumanising her.
Saying through thought rather than words 
what he needed her to hear.
Saying goodbye.

Continued chapter 1/31

Dreamcatcher 1  

Cornerstone Park.  Washington DC.  May 2nd 
1999  11:03p.m. 14 days earlier.

"So Agent Scully, you feeling accustomed 
to the feel of my bat yet?"

Scully twisted her body as best she could 
from within the confines of Mulder's 
strong arms and raised her eyebrow coolly, 
smothering the laughter that had been 
building up inside of her since they had 
started all this.  

{Play by the rules Dana, give him what he 
wants}

"Oh."  her voice came out sounding 
perplexed, as if she had given his 
question serious thought.......

"That's your bat I feel huh?"

...and she was rewarded when colour spread 
along Mulders face like a wave.  Sweeping 
away the embarrassment her retort had 
generated he continued the game. Dipping 
his mouth once more to rest tantalisingly 
close to her ear.  Sighing as he did so, 
he was surprised to see the merest shudder 
course through her body as his breath 
tickled her neck.

"No Scully.  What you're feeling there is 
my weapon.  Loaded and ready to fire....."

Despite her best efforts a bark of 
laughter forced itself from her mouth and 
her hold on the ash baseball bat loosened, 
which, had it not been for Mulders grip, 
would have fallen to the ground.

"Mulder"  she admonished flicking her eyes 
to the small boy who stood grinning at 
them not 15 feet away.

"There are children present!...anyway, I 
thought we were playing ball...."

Behind her Mulder nodded.

"Hey Poor boy....I'm not paying you ten 
bucks an hour to stand there watching the 
sky.  Do your job kid or I'll send Agent 
Scully after you........OW!"
He rubbed the spot where Scully's elbow 
had connected with him.

"What was that for?"

"Shut up Mulder!  I'm not going to tell 
you again. I need to concentrate."

Mulder cocked his head on one side.

"Want to try it on your own now?"

"Not really.  I'm fairly comfortable where 
we are right now."

She settled her gaze back to the child in 
front of them.

"Plus I have someone to blame when we 
miss."



11:31p.m.


"Well Scully, I'll say this for you....you 
have a hell of a right arm on you.  Ever 
thought of doing this professionally?"

The comment earned him yet another light 
punch on his forearm, but, given half-
heartedly and only because he expected it 
of her.

"Mulder you're a jerk sometimes."  She 
smiled up at him and just for a second her 
eyes seemed to radiate a million different 
shades of blue, caught as they were by the 
spotlights that bordered the field.  He 
felt like he could submerge himself in the 
goodness of her, holding his breath until 
he was forced to resurface for air, 
finally exploring the essence of Dana 
Scully, testing it, making it his.

"Only sometimes?"  he teased.

Scully laughed, but shook her head 
slightly, indicating she had no wish to 
enter in to that old argument with him, 
and reluctantly tore her gaze away from 
his.

They had finished with the baseball 
tutorial when the supply of balls had 
waned.  Mulder had dug deep in to his 
pockets and sent Poor Boy on his way.

Scully had been sure that he was about to 
do the same with her, but instead, he had 
taken her hand and led her to the centre 
of the field.  She had protested weakly as 
he trotted off to retrieve a large sports 
bag, and as he had dug in to it's depths 
to finally reveal a large tasselled 
blanket - the kind usually found on family 
picnics - she had crossed her arms over 
her chest, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Mulder...what are you doing?"

His only response had been to spread the 
blanket out on the dusty earth.

"Sit down Scully.  I have something for 
you."

She tried to shake her head, to protest 
that it was getting late, to voice the 
million excuses that suddenly crowded her 
head.
But instead she acquiesced and dropped 
down beside him.

"Now close your eyes"

"What?"  she laughed shakily but 
nonetheless did as he directed.

Seconds later she yelped as something 
freezing cold and solid dropped in to her 
hand.  Looking down she laughed out loud 
as her eyes lit upon a Chocolate Mega-cone 
in all it's glory.  

{Correction Dana, all it's full fat 
calorie artery hardening glory}

Mulder smiled.

"I tried to get you one of those non-fat 
toffuti things you like so much, but the 
clerk looked like I was from Outer space 
when I asked him, so this'll have to 
do.......and look...."

He produced an identical cone from what 
Scully could now identify as a cool box, 
complete with crushed ice.

"You don't have to share this one."

As it turned out, she ended up half 
sharing anyway.  Mulder finished his cone 
with all the eagerness of a half starved 
puppy and since his eyes never left her 
hand as she ploughed her way more daintily 
through the mass of ice cream and 
chocolate, she eventually took pity on him 
and surrendered it's remains to him, 
watching in wonderment as it disappeared 
in three short bites.


And now, she just sat, comfortable in his 
presence, listening to him recount the 
tale of alien baseball stars and rogue 
policemen.  She didn't believe it for a 
minute, but allowed the sound of his voice 
to lull her in to complete relaxation as 
he had done so many times in the past.

He had a beautiful voice, full of melody, 
and soft for a man of 
his size and she allowed it's harmony to 
wash over her in waves.

A perfect end to what had started out as 
such a crappy day.  He had made it end 
perfectly with a gesture that was 
surprising both in it's spontaneity and 
it's tenderness.  Mulder was not known for 
either.

"Scully?"

"mmmmmmmmmm?"

"Are you falling asleep on me?"

Scully shook her head slightly, unable to 
summon up the energy to do anything more 
taxing.

"uh uh.  I'm awake Mulder."

He snorted and she felt the cool air hit 
her as he shifted position on the blanket, 
the warmth of him leaving her.

"C'mon.  Time to get you home."

He extended a hand down to her as he got 
to his feet and she accepted it 
gratefully, using him to pull herself up 
so she was facing him.  His hazel eyes had 
turned green in the strange light that 
surrounded them, and almost on a whim, she 
stood up on tip toes and kissed him 
lightly on the cheek, feeling the stubble 
scratching her lips pleasantly.

"Thank you Mulder."

He gathered up the blanket and stuffed it 
back in the bag which he slung 
effortlessly over his shoulder, and caught 
Scully's hand in his, bringing it up in 
front of his face.

"Get something on those blisters huh?."

Scully nodded and almost against her will, 
her fingers curled around his letting her 
thumb trace small circles over and over on 
the back of his hand.

Mulder left it there, surprised but 
pleased by this sudden show of intimacy 
and together, they walked back across the 
wide expanse of green towards the exit.  
Back towards the real world.

Continued chapter 2


Dreamcatcher 2

J. Edgar Hoover Building Washington DC.  
May 4th 1999
7:42 a.m.




"Hey Ariel.....you gonna stay in there all 
day or what?"

Mulder crossed his arms over his chest as 
his partner neared the side of the 
deserted pool.  50 meters long, Olympic 
sized, it was one of the few luxuries 
afforded them by their Federal Employers.  
Built only 10 years ago as part of a 
programme designed to allow it's Agents a 
way of staying in good physical shape, but 
more importantly as a way of ridding 
themselves of the tensions a difficult 
case might bring, it was rarely this 
empty.  Having said that, it was still 
early.

Scully smiled self consciously up at 
Mulder and smoothed the errant red hair 
away from where it was plastered across 
her face, and regarded him through spiky, 
waterlogged lashes.

"Ariel?"  she queried uncertainly.

Mulder grinned 

"What, you never saw The Little Mermaid 
Agent Scully?"

Off Scully's continued bewilderment, he 
laughed and extended a hand down to her.

"I guess not."

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Scully 
lightly rested her palms against the slick 
tiled surface of the pools' sidings and 
lifted her body out of the water in one 
fluid movement, hardly rippling the 
waters' surface, trying unsuccessfully to 
hide the grimace of pain the movement 
brought.

Mulder though, as sharp as ever, picked it 
up immediately.

"Sore huh?"

He stepped away from her a fraction to 
allow her the space to get to her feet, 
and as she did so, handed her the thick, 
fluffy towel that had a second before been 
hanging over the railing that bordered the 
pool, ignoring the look she threw his way.

"Mulder...do me a favour would you...."

She began towelling the moisture from her 
skin which glowed a deep honeyed gold in 
the light from the spots above them and 
Mulder suddenly discovered that he 
couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

<Scully has a tan.>

<Scully never has a tan....>

Oblivious to his scrutiny, she continued.

"The next time you decide to give me an 
impromptu lesson in the finer points of 
blasting a baseball in to the night 
sky....just don't OK?  My arms feel like 
they've been ripped off at the shoulder 
and reattached.  I could barely move them 
yesterday."

Mulder coughed, and extended a hand 
towards the shimmering expanse of water.

"Physician heal thyself?"  he queried

Scully softened slightly.

"Something like that yes."

"Anyway, why are you here?  We aren't due 
at the office for over an hour.  What's 
going on?"

Mulder grinned, and let his gaze rest once 
more on his partner's honeyed skin.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity of 
seeing you in your bathing suit......the 
suntan is an added bonus though."

"Mulder..."

He caught the warning note in her 
voice...and something 
else...embarrassment?  Pleasure?...he 
couldn't define her tone but he knew 
enough about her to realise that the game 
playing was over, at least for now.  He 
lightly rested a hand at her back and 
began steering her towards the locker 
rooms, enjoying, despite his best 
intentions, the feeling of her warm, bare 
skin beneath his palm.

"I got a call from Skinner this 
morning......he has a case for us...and 
you have..."  He glanced at his watch,

"...exactly 12 minutes to get dried, 
changed and ready before we get summoned 
to his domain for a meeting.  I guess 
we're not going to make it on time."

Scully paused at the entrance to the 
female locker room, and met the direct 
challenge in her partner's hazel eyes with 
a determined stare.

"I'll see you there in ten.  Bring 
coffee."


7:57a.m.

Scully threw Mulder a triumphant look as 
she stepped in to the outer office of her 
superior a mere eight minutes after their 
parting at the pool.  Confident that her 
appearance bordered on the immaculate she 
raised one sculptured eyebrow at him as 
she reached for the Styrofoam cup of evil 
smelling coffee he held in his hand.

"Well?"

Mulder whistled softly.  Hair, make up, 
clothing from the tailored linen suit to 
the impossibly high heeled pumps all 
present and correct.  No hint of chlorine, 
suggested that not only had she changed in 
record time, but that she had found the 
time to shower away the scents of the 
pool.

<How the hell did she manage to do that in 
ten minutes?>

He decided to answer truthfully.

"I'm impressed."

Scully took a sip of the coffee and 
winced.  Disgusting as always.....but at 
least it was warm and wet and took away 
some of the dryness in her throat that 
always followed a swim.

"So, any idea why we're here?  Aside from 
the obvious that is?"

Mulder shook his head, but before he could 
answer, the door to Skinner's office swung 
open and the stern face of their superior 
appeared.  Looking even grimmer than 
usual, he nodded curtly at the two Agents 
before him.

"Scully, Mulder.  Come inside please."

Scully set the coffee cup down on the 
small table that graced the outer office 
and sent a silent message to her partner.

<I guess we're about to find out.>

He nodded slightly and allowed her to 
precede him across the small expanse of 
carpeted floor and in through the still 
open door.  

As was usually the case, two chairs had 
been placed on the other side of Skinner's 
large desk, and he motioned them to take a 
seat, allowing them to get relatively 
comfortable before he began.

"A case file came across my desk some days 
ago, requesting our involvement....your 
involvement with a child kidnapping.  
Initially, I refused the request and 
passed the details on to the VCS.  Last 
night, the file reappeared, and this time 
I believe it warrants a closer look."

Scully traded glances with her partner, 
before turning her attention back to the 
file Skinner now held out towards her.  It 
was unlike him to be this vague, and for 
some reason, the vagueness unsettled her.

"Sir?  I'm not sure I understand.  Why 
now?  Why not leave it with the 
VCS......Kidnapping doesn't normally fall 
under the rubric of the x-files...."

She accepted the proffered file and 
flipped it open, her words dying in her 
throat as she scanned the first page.

Mulder waited patiently as she quickly 
read through the report of the child's 
abduction and subsequent discovery four 
days later, and her breath caught in her 
throat as she finally began to recount the 
details to him.

"The child disappeared from her bed on the 
night of 26th April, no ransom note, no 
communication, no evidence found at the 
scene.  Intensive searches turned up 
nothing barring the usual surmising of 
what might have happened.  No suspects.  
No leads.  Nothing to indicate motive or 
even incidence of foul play.  No sign of 
struggle at the scene.  Shared a school 
dormitory with five other girls, none of 
whom remember hearing or seeing anything 
untoward."

She stopped reading suddenly as her 
eyebrows shot up to be almost hidden 
beneath the fringe of her rich titian 
hair.
Mulder leaned forward, intrigued.  For 
Scully to freak out, even marginally, 
after everything they had witnessed over 
the past six years, meant that something 
in that file had jarred her to the core.

"Scully?  What?"

Slowly she turned her eyes towards him, no 
longer needing to read the file to 
appraise him of it's contents.

"It says here that screaming was reported 
from the dormitory at approximately 11:05 
last night.  Almost immediately the dorm 
mother was on the scene to discover one of 
the other girls huddled over the missing 
girls' bed covered in blood.
On closer inspection, it was clear where 
the blood had come from."

She handed the file to Mulder.

"Take a look for yourself."

Mulder glanced down at the glossy 8x10 and 
blanched visibly, jaw clenching as he 
forced himself to keep focused on the 
grisly scene before him, captured for 
eternity by the Crime scene photographer 
in full, glorious Kodak colour.

A child sized bed, a brightly checked 
comforter, now only barely visible 
beneath....beneath......

<Jesus, so much blood>

"What the hell is that?"

Scully swallowed, trying hard to hold on 
to her professional facade in light of the 
gruesome realisation she had made only 
seconds before, and one which she now had 
to pass on to her partner.

"That......is Elizabeth Armstrong.  
Returned to her bed exactly four days to 
the minute from when she was 
taken.......or at least what was left of 
her."

"Jesus Christ."

Mulder felt the acidic taste of his only 
recently digested breakfast coming back to 
haunt him.  The glistening mass of blood, 
tissue and bone bore absolutely no 
resemblance to a Human Being, let alone 
the smiling little girl who stared back at 
him from the front page of the document.

"It looks as though something chewed her 
up and...and...spit her out again....how 
the hell did they make the ID?"

This time the question was directed solely 
at Skinner, who had remained silent 
throughout.  He had already experienced 
the full horror of the missing girls' 
physical state, and unlike the two Agents 
before him, had thoroughly read through 
the file.

"Blood and tissue typing.  We're still 
waiting on the DNA results, but it looks 
pretty conclusive."

"Jesus Christ."  repeated Mulder softly.

"Who would do such a thing?.....and why?"

Skinner frowned.

"That's why I've allowed your involvement 
in this case.  You will fly out to Ohio on 
the first available flight.  Scully, I 
want you to take a look at the....the 
body.  See if the pathologist missed 
anything.  I don't believe I need to tell 
you that this investigation is to move 
ahead with the utmost urgency.  We are all 
under a tremendous pressure from the DA's 
office to come up with a feasible 
explanation on this one, and I feel, that 
you two are best placed to head up the 
investigation.  You will have the full co-
operation of both the local PD and the 
field office down there.  Use every 
resource available to you.  I want this 
bastard caught."

Both Agents nodded their affirmation, but 
before they could rise to their feet, 
Skinner waved a hand at them wearily.

"There's something I haven't apprised you 
of Agents.  Something not contained in the 
file........."

He sighed, forcing the words out.

".........This morning I received word 
from the Ohio office.  Last night.....last 
night another child was taken."


Continued in chapter 3


Dreamcatcher 3

Brackenhurst Learning Facility for 
Extraordinary Children, Cleveland, Ohio.  
May 4th 1999
8:05p.m.



Scully allowed her gaze to settle on the 
scenery that unfolded before her through 
the open side window of their standard 
Taurus rental.  Even though dusk had 
settled over the school grounds, lending a 
muted grey to the lawns and flower beds 
that bordered the sweeping driveway, the 
beauty of the surroundings was not lost on 
her.

As far as the eye could see, the place was 
immaculate.  From the manicured lawns and 
beds, to the imposing, well established 
redwoods, not a leaf or a blade out of 
place, and below them, the school itself 
loomed like a sentry.
More suited to an English estate, it was 
built to resemble an 18th century manor 
house, complete with stone turrets at each 
corner and leaded windows.  A huge studded 
oak door completed the picture, and as 
they grew ever closer, Scully could just 
make out the gothic type bell pull 
situated just to the left of the door.

The whole place exuded wealth and 
privilege, a type of atmosphere usually 
reserved for the very best private schools 
in the country, and yet she knew this not 
to be the case here.

After hooking up her ever present laptop 
during their plane ride over, Scully had 
apprised Mulder of the school's history.
Owned and operated by Julia Brackenhurst, 
it had been built a scant four years ago 
for the purpose of - as the literature on 
the internet had told her - To Nurture, 
protect and develop the brightest stars in 
America.
The school boasted some of the finest 
facilities in the world, and was fast 
becoming renowned for it's teaching 
abilities, and also it's unique approach 
to the often perplexing problems that 
gifted children brought with them.
Social standing, wealth or position were 
not listed amongst the criteria required 
to gain a place here.  Children were 
accepted solely on their abilities.

No fees were required for admission and 
Scully had learned that the school was 
funded by a group of unspecified 
benefactors, and from Julia Brackenhurst's 
personal fortune.

In fact, it had seemed almost too good to 
be true.

One thing though, had struck her as odd. 
The school accepted only girls.  No boys 
were ever accepted, regardless of their 
abilities or gifts.
The teaching staff was made up exclusively 
of women, as was the ground staff, kitchen 
staff and housekeeping staff.
When Scully had questioned this, Mulder 
had merely shrugged though she could see 
that he was none the wiser as to why this 
would be the case.

She sighed and turned her attention back 
to her partner, who was gently drawing the 
car to a halt in front of the entrance to 
the school.

"Some place huh?"  he commented idly  
"Looks more like a hotel than a school."

Scully gathered together the loose papers 
on her lap and stuffed them back in to her 
briefcase.

"What say we go check out the facilities?"

Together, they exited the car and walked 
without speaking up the wide stone steps 
that led to the door.  Mulder eyed the 
tasselled bell pull suspiciously.

"Are we supposed to ring that or what?"

Scully glanced at the door's surface.  Up 
close, she could fully appreciate the 
intricate carvings that were etched in to 
the dark oak.  Mostly bible scenes and 
flowers they were breathtaking in their 
beauty and awe inspiring in their 
complexity, their surface unmarred by 
anything even vaguely resembling a door 
knob.
Scully raised her eyebrows and grasped the 
tasselled rope firmly in her small hand.

"I don't think we have much of a choice in 
the matter."

Far away, muffled through the thickness of 
wood, they heard the chiming of a bell 
which corresponded to Scully's release on 
the rope, and for a wild second, Mulder 
braced himself for the door swinging open 
with a typical B movie creak, a 
disembodied head peering through the gap.  
Igor's voice....

<Come Innnnnnnnnnnnn!>

And then, another image manifested itself 
in his mind. 
The image of a smiling child.
Blood, bone and tissue.

<Chewed up and spit out>

The beginnings of a smile died abruptly on 
Mulder's face as he remembered their 
reasons for being here at all.

"Think they heard us?"  He asked as 
seconds passed and the door remained 
firmly shut.

Scully shrugged and reached once more for 
the pull.  She dropped her hand back down 
to her side though as they heard the sound 
of a bolt being shot back from it's 
housing.
The door opened a fraction, revealing the 
face of a blonde haired, blue eyed child.  
Not more than twelve years old she smiled 
uncertainly.

"Yes?  Can I help you?"

Scully brought her Identification out of 
her jacket pocket and held it in front of 
the child.

"Agents Scully and Mulder.  
F.B.I......we're here to see...."

The child swung the door open wide, 
revealing herself fully for 
the first time and finished Scully's 
sentence for her.

"Miss Brackenhurst.  She said you were 
coming.  Please come in."

"Thank you.......?"

The child held out a hand to Scully, who, 
after an uneasy glance toward her partner, 
took it uncertainly.
"My name is Felicia Slabbert.  I am head 
prefect here.  I'm pleased to meet you 
Agent Scully."

Scully smiled.

"How did you know I was Agent Scully?"

Felicia shrugged.

"Usually when people introduce themselves 
as a pair, they naturally precede their 
partner's name with that of their own.  As 
Human's we are naturally predisposed to 
regard ourselves as the Alpha in any 
relationship.  You made the introduction 
and therefor you must be Agent 
Scully.........and besides...."

Her eyes twinkled, and Scully saw the 
child that lurked beneath the 
intelligence.

"...I read your badge!"

Beside her Mulder snorted appreciatively, 
and Felicia turned her attention towards 
him.  Knowing somehow, that it was 
expected of him, he also held out a hand 
to the child in front of him.  His large 
frame towered over her, but she seemed 
neither intimidated or in any way 
embarrassed, allowing his huge hand to 
engulf her tiny one.

"Agent Mulder.  It's a pleasure to know 
you too."

She locked eyes with him and gave him a 
stare that sent a bolt of energy through 
his body.  It seemed like she was staring 
directly in to his soul.  He had always 
thought that Scully had the most 
expressive eyes he had ever seen, or at 
least when she allowed him to see that 
far, but the child below him radiated an 
energy he had rarely encountered.  It was 
as though she had stripped away the layers 
within him to see through to his very 
core, weighing him up in her mind, 
evaluating him...liking what she saw.  A 
child on the brink of adolescence, staring 
at him an a way more suited to a wife or a 
lover......

<I'm imagining this.  She's just a kid for 
Christ's sake.>

And then, she dropped her hand from his 
and the connection was broken.  Leaving a 
hollow feeling in his gut, a sense of un-
fullfilment.

"Agent Mulder?  are you all right?"

Aware of Scully's eyes on him, Mulder 
forced a smile to his face.

"I'm fine.  It was a long journey that's 
all." he offered weakly.

Felicia nodded, all to aware of the effect 
she was having on him but choosing to 
ignore it.  She'd have to be careful now.  
Feigning innocence, she directed the two 
agents towards a room set just off the 
imposing oak panelled lobby.

"If you would like to make yourselves 
comfortable in the sitting room, Miss 
Brackenhurst will be along shortly.  The 
room has a range of refreshments.  Please 
help yourselves."

Mulder followed her with his eyes as she 
glided towards the curved staircase set in 
the centre of the hardwood floor, watching 
her until she disappeared from view, 
unable to tear his gaze away until he felt 
Scully's hand on his arm, bringing him 
back.

"Mulder?  What the hell was that all 
about?"

Her tone was hushed, and despite her words 
he could detect no hint of anger in her 
tone.  Confusion yes, but no anger.

<She knew>

"You saw it too huh?"

Scully released her hold on him.

"Saw It?  Mulder, she was practically 
undressing you with her eyes.........It 
was bordering on pornographic......"

He bit his lip thoughtfully as he tried to 
make sense of what they had both just 
witnessed.

"Maybe you got your answer Scully."

"Answer?  To what?"

"As to why there are no boys here......"

Scully regarded him thoughtfully, unsure 
as to whether he was expecting a response.  
If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, 
she would have chastised him for letting 
his over active imagination get the better 
of him, but the fact remained that she had 
seen it.  The way the girl....the child 
had gazed at her partner had shocked her 
to the core.  
She sucked in her bottom lip thoughtfully, 
simultaneously pushing a strand of hair 
away from her face.  Yes, the child's 
behaviour had disturbed her on several 
levels....but there were more important 
things to focus on right now.

"C'mon Mulder.  We'd better do as 
directed."

Mulder followed her lead and together, 
they entered the room that Felicia had 
described as a lounge.
He whistled softly as he took in the 
richness of the furnishings, from the 
velvet flock wall coverings to the fine 
crystal adorning polished mahogany 
occasional tables, nothing was out of 
place.  It was is if the room had fallen 
straight out from between the pages of 
'Country Life' magazine.
He couldn't help but compare the 
surroundings to those of his own 
recollections of childhood learning.
Scuffed linoleum and battered Formica 
tables would have no place here.
Scully looked almost as uncomfortable as 
he felt, but as was usually the case, she 
adapted much more quickly, and after 
allowing her eyes to roam the opulent 
surroundings, settled herself gracefully 
in to the depths of an over stuffed damask 
covered sofa.
Mulder remained standing, uncomfortably 
aware of the fact that he lacked Scully's 
ability to simply blend in, and from his 
vantage point got the first view of Julia 
Brackenhurst as she entered the room.

From Scully's findings on the internet, he 
had expected the proprietor of this 
unusual school to be a mature woman - aged 
even - small in stature with white hair 
piled atop her head, maybe even a 
dowagers' hump.
It took less than a second for those 
images to be forever shattered in to a 
million pieces.

Julia Brackenhurst, clad in black jeans 
and a soft, baby blue lambs wool sweater, 
white blonde hair cascading unfettered to 
just below her shoulder blades, face as 
yet unlined by age, strode purposefully 
towards him and extended a hand.

"Agent Mulder I presume."

Mulder nodded, and inclined his head 
towards Scully, who had risen to her feet 
as soon as the woman had entered.

"My partner, Agent Dana Scully."

Julia turned and smiled uncertainly.

"Thank you for coming.  Won't you please 
have a seat?"

She perched on the couch opposite Scully.  
Mulder took the chair from which he was 
able to see both women and beyond them 
through to the still open door, and 
crossed one long leg over his knee.  For a 
few moments, no one spoke, and then Scully 
leaned in closer.  

"Miss Brackenhurst........my partner and I 
were asked to come down here to assist in 
the investigation pertaining to the 
alleged abduction and murder of Elizabeth 
Armstrong.  We haven't been given very 
much information as to why she might have 
been taken - or who would have motive to 
do such a thing.  Were you here the night 
she was taken?"

Julia closed her eyes briefly, as though 
dispelling a particularly unpleasant 
memory.

"I already told the police.  No, I wasn't.  
I was attending a seminar out of state.  
New York City to be exact.  I received a 
call from Mary Price, the house mother, 
and returned immediately.  To begin with 
we simply thought that she'd run away."

Mulder's eyes widened slightly at her 
words.

"Run away?"  He queried  "Why would you 
think that?  Was she not happy here?"

"Lilly?"  Julia laughed sadly.  "Lilly 
wasn't what you would call a happy child 
Agent Mulder.  It was a part of the reason 
she was accepted here.  As is often the 
case with gifted children she was 
misunderstood, frustrated, disruptive and 
she used her intelligence to act out.  A 
lot.  She never felt a part of life here.  
She never felt a part of life at home.  
One of life's loners.  When she went 
missing, the logical assumption was that 
she'd decided to see if she could find a 
place where she did belong....."

Her voice trembled.
"Just look at what she found instead."

Scully softened her voice, all too aware, 
despite her obvious attempts to hide it, 
of the young woman's tenuous emotional 
state.
"Before she disappeared, did you notice 
anyone or anything unusual?  Did you 
experience anything, anything at all out 
of the ordinary around the building or the 
grounds that would give you cause to be 
suspicious?"

"No.  No, I already told the police that 
too.  Everything was normal.......except 
with Lizzy herself."

"Oh?  In what way?"

Julia frowned.

"As I said, she wasn't an easy child.  But 
this was...this was different.  We caught 
her a couple of times wandering the 
corridors at night.  She would swear the 
next day that she had been sleepwalking, 
even when she knew that we couldn't 
possibly believe her.  Denying things she 
had said or done when we confronted her 
during her little nocturnal escapades, 
refusing to back down.  It settled after a 
few nights and to be honest, we thought no 
more about it.  Children of that age, 
especially those as gifted as Lizzy are 
prone to fabrication.  We put it down to 
being an unfortunate phase she'd grown 
tired of............."

Mulder leaned forwards as her voice 
trailed off, knowing that there was more 
to come.

"And?"  he prompted.

"....and then the nightmares started.  She 
would wake up screaming, screaming that 
'He' was coming after her, that she'd been 
bad.....that........Oh God......"

Scully's eyes flickered to connect with 
her partners even as a shiver worked it's 
way down her back.  Julia Brackenhurst's 
tone had gone from coolly collected to 
verging on hysteria in a matter of 
seconds, and she gently placed a hand on 
the distraught woman's arm, attempting to 
calm her with her touch.

"It's OK.  Take your time."

Mulder watched fascinated as his partner 
unleashed her magic.  He had been on the 
receiving end of it too many times to not 
know what he was seeing.  Scully had the 
unique ability to diffuse the most 
inflammatory situations merely by dropping 
her tone of voice an octave and offering a 
simple touch.
In response, Julia's breathing slowed to a 
rate where she was able to force the rest 
of the sentence out.

"She knew that he was going to kill her.  
She knew that she was going to 
die...............and she said that 
there'd be others......"

Continued chapter 4


Dreamcatcher 4

Brackenhurst Learning Facility for 
Extraordinary Children
Cleveland, Ohio  May 4th 1999.  8:35p.m.


Scully battled her expression for as long 
as she could, knowing instinctively that 
Mulder's eyes were on her.
In the six plus years they had been 
working together, she had gained a certain 
measure of open-mindedness towards what 
she had seen and experienced, and slowly, 
slowly, her grip on the rationale of 
science was slowly being torn from her 
grasp.
Despite that though, Dana Scully the 
pragmatist, the *scientist* still hovered 
in the background, ready to pounce, to 
offer a practical solution to whatever 
madness was on the agenda that week.

And then she felt it.  The merest pull on 
the left side of her face as her eyebrow 
made it's slow ascent in to incredulity.  
A reaction totally beyond her control and 
an expression she knew her partner could 
read like a book.

<What *is* that look Scully?>

<<I'd have thought that after five years 
you'd know *exactly* what that look is 
Mulder>>

A look of incredulous disbelief.  Sarcasm. 
The patented Dana Scully *look*.  And she 
hated it.  Hated to be so predictable in 
front of her partner.

Swallowing, she rearranged her features in 
to their usual neutrally interested 
expression.

"Miss Brackenhurst, you say that 
Elisabeth....Lizzy *knew* that she was 
going to die?  That she saw it in her 
*Dreams*?"

Julia raised a tear streaked face to 
regard the Agent in front of her.

"I don't know what I'm saying.  I know how 
crazy it sounds.  I'm not a stupid woman 
Agent Scully.  I know the difference 
between fantasy and reality, and at the 
time, as I said, we.....*I* chalked it up 
to an overactive imagination at work."

She dropped her head and studied her 
hands.

"Now, after all that's happened, I'm not 
so sure.  I just want it to stop."

Mulder coughed slightly, as if to remind 
the two women of his presence.

"What about the child who's missing now?"  
His endemic memory searched for a second 
through the dark recesses of his brain.

"Deborah Hollis?  Did she experience the 
same nightmares?"

Julia shook her head.

"No.  If anything she slept deeply.  One 
of those kids always first to bed and last 
up in the morning.  For a while it worried 
us but she was fine during the day, so we 
put it down to a growing child needing to 
regain her energy.  Debby was..... *Is* a 
unique child in many respects."

"How so?"

Julia smiled slightly.

"She was possibly the most precocious 
child we have ever had here.  Very 
confident.  Outgoing.  Well liked amongst 
her peers.  Her IQ registers her at genius 
level.  She *loves* to learn.  But at the 
same time she is very much the little 
girl.  Always around the horses.  The kind 
of child you just *want* to be 
with.........."


She shook her head as tears once again 
threatened to spill from her cool grey 
eyes.

"Oh God, I'm sorry.  I just can't believe 
this is happening.  Not here, not 
anywhere."

Mulder glanced across at Scully, sending 
an unspoken message to his partner.

<This is getting us nowhere>

The merest nod from her and Mulder rose to 
his feet.

"Can you show us the rooms they slept in?"

His words seemed to allow Julia to regain 
at least some of her lost composure, and 
she swiped a hand over her face, smearing 
the tears that still lingered on her 
cheeks.

"Of course.  I'm sorry.  Please follow 
me."

*************

Scully felt as though she had stepped in 
to one of those schoolgirl novels of her 
childhood.  

The dorm was large, airy.  Wood panelled 
with colourful scatter rugs strewn 
carelessly across its' surface.
Six small beds.  Pine headboards.  Each 
sporting a different coloured comforter 
and various assortments of plush toys.
A small night stand stood by each bed.  A 
lamp to match the comforter for late night 
reading by insomniac mini geniuses.  
A nice room.  A safe room.  A room where 
little girls could giggle in to the night 
before falling in to sweet childhood 
slumber.
A room where at least one of those little 
girls had been ripped from her dreams and 
taken to.......to........

Scully wasn't sure.  Not yet.  But it 
would come.  Eventually.

Mulder was prowling the area, like a tiger 
locked in a cage.  Scully could almost see 
the gears whirring in his head as he tried 
to get a *feel* for his surroundings.  It 
had taken her a long time to feel 
comfortable with her partners' strange 
submersion in to a crime scene.  To watch 
him sink in to the horror was both 
fascinating and frightening.
Mulder had lived in dark places for most 
of his life, and recently, Scully had 
begun to wonder how much more he could 
take before one day the horror came back 
to haunt him.  To haunt them.
Every crime, every death, seemed to take a 
greater toll on him, and his recovery time 
had gone from taking a few hours to a 
couple of days.  During those times, she 
would leave him be, having learned long 
ago that only Mulder could rid himself of 
the dark places.  Her help was neither 
needed nor appreciated.

"Is this room still in use?"

He had paused by one of the beds.  This 
one a stark contrast to the others.  No 
brightly coloured comforter here.  Only a 
striped mattress.  Brand new and unused.

Julia shook her head.

"No.  We closed it immediately 
after......after Lizzy was found.  The 
girls who slept here were moved in to 
other dorms.  It wasn't difficult to find 
the space.  Over a quarter of the students 
have already been removed by their 
parents.  I don't blame them for being 
scared.  We're all scared."

"and the child who found the body?"

Mulder winced at the word, and immediately 
wished he could pull it back.  *Bodies* 
were found in abandoned warehouses, by 
Fast running Rivers, In burnt out 
vehicles.  Not a word he enjoyed linking 
to bright eyed nine year olds with 
swinging pig tails.

Only he seemed to have a reaction to the 
word though.  He shivered.

"It was Debby wasn't it?"

Scully started.  She was used to Mulders' 
leaps of logic, although how he had 
arrived at that conclusion was a mystery.  
The name of the child had not been 
included in the initial reports, although 
there was a transcript of the psychologist 
- aided interview.
She had assumed that due to the age of the 
child, privacy had been respected.

"Mulder?"

He heard the question in her tone and 
shrugged, indicating to her that his hunch 
was just that.  A hunch.

A *Correct* hunch.

Julia wrapped her arms protectively across 
her chest.

"Yes.  She was the one.  I thought you 
would know that."

Mulder nodded curtly and Scully mentally 
translated the nod.

Interview over.

Information gathered.

Time to leave.

"Thank you for your time Miss 
Brackenhurst."  

she indicated Mulder who was staring 
intently at the colourful mobile that hung 
from the ceiling above Lizzy's bed. 

"We'll be in touch."

"Can I take this?"

Julia followed his finger with her eyes as 
it came to rest on the tasselled edges of 
the mobile.  Feeling suddenly that she 
should refuse, but was unable to generate 
a good reason for doing so.
Just a lingering protectivness over the 
dead child's' possessions.  God Knows, she 
hadn't had many and Julia felt like she 
was violating the child's' trust by 
allowing the last reminder of her to be 
removed from the room.

"I don't know.....I don't think...."

Scully had no idea what was going on in 
her partners' mind, but one look at the 
burning intensity in his eyes caused her 
to step forward and lay a silencing hand 
on Julia's arm.

"We won't damage it.  As soon as we're 
done we'll return it to you."

Julia looked from one to other.  Confusion 
evident, and then she merely shrugged.

"Certainly.  If you think it's relevant to 
your investigation."

"Thank you."

Carefully, Mulder reached up and unhooked 
the mobile from it's fixing.  Gazing at it 
almost reverently, tracing one long finger 
across the intricate pattern of coloured 
thread and beads.
He locked eyes with Scully.

"We should go."

Turning, he followed Julia Brackenhurst 
towards the exit, but paused long enough 
to pull Scully closer to him, leaning 
slightly so his words would be only heard 
by her.
She felt his breath tickle her neck as the 
whisper reached her, hearing the words but 
not really understanding.

"Dream Catcher."

She frowned, indicating the information 
meant little to her, but Mulder simply 
allowed his hand to settle in the centre 
of her back as he guided her gently 
forwards towards the door.  The pressure 
of his fingers though told her all she 
needed to know.

<Not now.  I'll explain when we're out of 
here.>

Continued chapter 5

Dreamcatcher 5

Brackenhurst Learning Facility for
Extraordinary Children.
Cleveland.  Ohio   May 4th 1999 8:57p.m.


The girls watched from their positions, 
half hidden behind the armoire which 
graced the corner of the building's 
vestibule, as the two agents descended the 
curved wooden stairway.

The older of the two girls narrowed her 
eyes at the sight of Mulder's hand resting 
against his partner's back.  It seemed, 
to the casual observer, to be there 
simply to guide, to reassure her of 
his continued presence, but to her it 
seemed to suggest so much more.  More a 
subconscious act of implicit protection 
that was both expected and enjoyed by his 
partner.  She did not ask him for it, but 
didn't seek to push him away either.

"What do you see, Fliss?"

Felicia worked her pretty face up into 
a scowl and nudged her companion sharply 
in the ribs.

"Sshhhhh, stupid!  They'll hear us.  I'll 
tell you in a minute."

Beside her, the younger girl returned the 
scowl, rubbing her ribs exaggeratedly even 
as she craned her neck in an attempt to 
get a better view.  For the time being, 
Felicia ignored the movement beside her, 
focusing her attention on the scene before 
her.  From their vantage point it was 
difficult to see much of anything.  
Hearing was almost impossible.

Murmured words from the two agents.  Miss 
Brackenhurst's defeated posture as she 
showed them to the door.
Felicia smirked.

<Stupid woman.  She just doesn't *see* 
what's going on here.>

But the two agents with her?  Felicia 
wasn't sure.  The female agent *Scully* 
wasn't buying it.  None of it.  Felicia 
had sensed a certain measure of aloofness 
in the way the woman had looked at her 
earlier.  A coldness that she wrapped 
around herself like a blanket, designed to 
keep everyone out, even the man beside 
her.  She had immediately discarded her as 
a potential confidante.

But Mulder...now he was different all 
together.  More willing to believe.  More 
willing to submerge himself in the horror 
that now plagued her young life. In the 
scant few moments he had allowed her to 
look deep inside him, he had told her all 
she needed to know.  He reminded her in a 
lot of ways of her 
Father...the way he was...*before*...

<Flames, burning, forcing her back, 
gasping for air as his hand reached out 
toward her, pleading, beseeching her to 
not leave him in the hell they had created 
for themselves...and her voice rising in 
intensity until it was all she 
heard....Daddddeeeeeeee...>

"Fliss?"  

Whispered.

No response.

The child tried again.  More urgent this 
time.  Hissed almost.

"*Fliss*."

Felicia forced her mind back to the 
present, feeling for the first time the 
urgent pull on her sleeve as her companion 
demanded attention.

"What?!...I told you to keep quiet, 
didn't I?"

"But Fliss, *look*.  Look at what he 
has..."

The biting reproach died in Felicia's 
throat as she realized just what it was 
that Mulder held loosely in his hand.  
During his descent down the stairs his 
body had been half hidden by Julia, and 
Felicia had been too fixated on the 
position of his left hand to really take 
much notice of what the right one was 
doing, and suddenly a wave of nausea 
washed over her.  The sudden rush of bile 
in the back of her throat prompted her to 
slam her fragile body back against the 
wall, no longer heeding potential 
discovery. She shook her head numbly.

<No, Daddy, no, please say it's no.  
Please don't let him *take* it.  He can't 
take it.  He can't.  Tell me what to do.>

Tears had pooled from deep within her eyes, 
and were even now spilling down her pale 
cheeks, but she was unaware of anything 
other than the feel of the solid paneling 
against her shoulders as she silently 
twisted her head from side to side in 
an expression of anguished suffering.

<Why aren't you here for me, Daddy?  Why 
did you leave me to face this on my 
own? I'm not strong enough or wise 
enough to do it.  Tell me what to do.  
Please tell me what to do...>

She was dimly aware of a high-pitched 
scream, the sound coming from far away, 
reverberating around her head like an echo 
of things past, making her legs fold out 
from beneath her as the floor rushed up to 
meet her.  Taking her once again into 
nothingness.  

<To sleep, to sleep, perchance to 
dream...>

*********

"What the hell?"

Mulder spun around, his hand automatically 
reaching for the high-powered automatic 
weapon secured at his side, releasing it 
from its leather casing in one fluid, 
practiced movement.

Beside him, Scully mirrored his movements, 
her whole body tensing as she identified 
the sound of screaming.  A *child* 
screaming.  Close by.

The acoustics of the vestibule made it 
difficult to determine just what direction 
the sound was coming from, echoing and 
bouncing as it did off the bare flooring, 
and beside her Mulder closed his eyes for 
the merest of seconds to attune his senses 
more acutely.  An old Academy trick.  One 
that actually *worked.*

"Over there."  His eyes snapped open and 
he gestured toward the far corner of the 
room.

Scully held up one hand, palm facing 
toward Julia Brackenhurst, a silent 
direction that she stay put.  That they 
would handle this.

Attuned as they were to each other's 
methods of working meant they had no need 
of verbal communication as they separated,  
each taking a separate path toward the 
armoire that graced the dark corner.
Halfway there the screaming stopped 
abruptly, only to be replaced with another 
sound.  The unmistakable hitching of a 
child, trying desperately not to cry.

Mulder lowered his weapon and continued 
forward.  Safe in the knowledge that 
Scully would cover him should the need 
arise, sending up a silent prayer as he 
did so that nothing lay in that dark 
corner that would plague his dreams for 
the next few nights.  He didn't need help 
in that department.  Not now.  Not ever.

"F.B.I.  Identify yourself."  Even as he 
spoke the words he was aware that he would 
sound pretty stupid if the corner housed 
nothing more threatening than a frightened 
child. But then again...

<Chewed up and spit out.>

He thumbed the safety off the gun.

"Who's back there?  Show yourself."

Still nothing.  Mulder felt a tension knot 
give in the center of his shoulders.  He 
could almost hear the crack, but still he 
remained focused, eyes never wavering, 
ever aware of the potential dangers.

"I will count to three.  Now show 
yourself.  One,...two,..."

"Mulder, look."

His eyes dropped to follow his partner's 
gaze, and then he saw it, almost hidden in 
the gloom: a child-sized hand, fingers 
curling cautiously around the side of the 
armoire.  A hand that was followed 
moments later by a face, tear-streaked, 
eyes wide, terrified beyond belief.  All 
of seven years old.  Maybe younger.

"Don't shoot me."

Something way down in Mulder's heart 
cracked into a million pieces as the 
child's terrified, whispered plea reached 
his ears, and he traded horrified glances 
with his partner.

<Way to go, Mulder.  You sure know how to 
act around kids.>

Julia rushed forward, almost pushing 
Scully out the way in her haste to reach 
the child.  

"Gina, honey what is it?  Why are you 
hiding back there?"

She dropped to her knees and opened her 
arms as Gina bolted into them.  The 
child's tears began afresh, and for a 
while there was nothing Julia could do but 
rock the child gently against her, waiting 
for Gina's violent trembling to subside 
enough for her to speak.

Mulder seemed to have lost the ability to 
move as he watched the scene unfold before 
him, the sight of the sobbing child 
transfixed him, and it was left to Scully 
to move forward to check the cramped space 
behind the armoire.

Nothing.

Meanwhile, Julia's soothing magic was 
having at least some small effect on the 
child, and she disentangled 
her from within the confines of her arms, 
gently pushing Gina back a step until the 
child was forced to meet her eyes.

"What's wrong, sweetie?  Did something 
scare you?  Is that why you screamed?"

A shake of a tousled head. "it wasn't me 
who screamed, Miss Brackenhurst...
it wasn't...honest, it wasn't."

"But Gina, honey, we heard you."

"NO!"

Gina stepped back from the woman who 
wasn't allowing her the time to say what 
she had to say and turned beseeching eyes 
toward Scully.

Julia stretched out a hand towards the 
child, forcing her to turn back to her. 
"Gina, honey, look at me.  We *heard* 
..."

"NO!  It wasn't me.  It was Fliss. She 
screamed and screamed and screamed..."

Mulder squatted on his haunches and 
regarded the child thoughtfully.
"Why did Fliss scream, Gina?  Can you tell 
me?"

His words were soft, almost indiscernible 
to Scully standing less than two feet 
away.  The child's response, though, was 
completely different, as her high-pitched 
tones became an ear-splitting scream as 
she clenched her fists by her side.

"BECAUSE HE TOOK HER!  HE TOOK HER AWAY!  
AND I TRIED TO STOP HIM AND I COULDN'T  I 
COULDN'T I COULDN'T I COULDN'T..."

Mulder reached out then and clamped his 
hands around Gina's thin arms, pulling her 
towards him violently, allowing her to 
burrow her small face against his chest.  
Her screams became muffled as he wrapped 
his arms protectively around her, and 
while her words became indiscernible, the 
wailing did not.

Julia stumbled to her feet, her hand over 
her mouth in an unconscious reaction to 
the disintegrating child in front of her.  
She watched with wide, shocked eyes as 
Mulder raised his head slightly. His 
expression mirrored Scully's own.

<What the hell is going on here?>

Taking care to keep his tone absolutely 
neutral so as not to frighten the child 
even more, he spoke, directing his words 
to his partner.

"Call an ambulance.  Call an ambulance 
right now.  This child needs a hospital.  
She's in shock."

Continued chapter 6
  

Dreamcatcher 6


St Mary's Hospital.  May 5th 1999  
1:07a.m.  Visitor's room.

"You look tired."

Scully raised her arms wearily and 
stretched them above her head, wincing at 
the audible cracking sound that came from 
deep within her shoulders.

"I'm fine," she offered by way of 
reassurance.  "Just been a long day, 
that's all..."  

As if to contradict her words, she trailed 
off as the end of the sentence was 
swallowed up by a yawn that she just 
couldn't suppress.

Mulder grinned across at her. "Want some 
caffeine, Agent Scully? You look 
like you could use some."

"No, it's OK." She got to her feet.
"I'll get it.  I could use the walk.  
Baseball lessons aside, my muscles are 
still protesting from too much inactivity.  
I'll see if I can find anything out while 
I'm gone."

On leaving the relative peace and quiet of 
the room, Scully was surprised to see the 
corridor beyond teeming with activity.  
She had spent a lot of time around 
hospitals, both as a doctor and as a 
patient, and in her experience even 
hospitals slept sometimes.

Not so here apparently.  But then, she 
reminded herself, it was a small hospital, 
probably serving an area far bigger than 
its capabilities.  Thankfully, though, 
its lack of facilities hadn't seemed to 
detract from the care given to little 
Gina Robik when she was brought through 
to the ER.  She had been assessed, 
treated and found a bed up in the 
children's ward within an hour.

But then again, maybe the presence of two 
FBI Agents had speeded up the process 
somewhat, Scully reflected.
Or maybe it was because it was such an 
unusual case.

By the time the ambulance had arrived at 
Brackenhurst, Gina had lapsed into what 
Scully could only guess was some kind of 
catatonic shock.  In the space of ten 
minutes, the child's breathing had become 
shallow, her pulse rate sluggish.  Despite 
everyone's best efforts she had remained 
totally unresponsive to external stimuli, 
although her eyes had remained open in an 
expression of sheer terror.

Scully had never seen anything like it 
before, although in medical school she had 
read about cases of so-called waking 
comas, where the mind shuts down to avoid 
facing up to events beyond its normal 
rational capabilities.  Usually, though, a 
clear cause could be found, especially in 
children.  She'd read about children who 
had witnessed the death of a parent 
withdraw into themselves, shutting out 
the world around them until some inner 
voice told them it was OK to come out 
again.

But there were usually tangible reasons.

Scully frowned.  

What was Gina's reason?  What had she seen 
in that room that would cause her to close 
down like this? Obviously it was tied in 
with the disappearance of Felicia 
Slabbert, but Mulder had ordered a 
thorough search of the building.  
Forensics teams had been called in, their 
investigation centering around the area 
where Gina had been found.  Their best 
efforts, though, had revealed nothing 
aside from the obvious - that the 
girl was gone.

There was no evidence of any kind to 
suggest that a third party had been 
involved, and Scully knew that her 
partner had already ruled out any
misplaced kidnapping theories.

But if not kidnapping, then what?

The child had seen *something*.  Of that 
there was no doubt, but until the girl 
decided to join them back in the real world, 
Scully suspected that the answers would 
remain just out of their reach.
It was anyone's guess how long that might 
take. Hours, days, months, years even.  
There was just no way of knowing.

Deep in thought, Scully didn't notice the 
figure coming toward her until it was too 
late, and before she could stop her 
forward momentum, they collided.

"Shit!"

She recognized the voice as belonging to 
the young doctor who had ministered to 
Gina hours before.  He had been 
harried then.  Now he seemed on the verge 
of hysteria.

Scully understood only too well the 
pressures heaped upon medical 
professionals and she didn't even flinch 
at his choice of greeting.  Besides, she 
*had* collided with the man after all.

"I'm sorry.  I wasn't looking where I was 
going." She held out her hand in apology.
"Special Agent Dana Scully.  You met my 
partner earlier, I believe."

Recognition washed over the man's 
features, softening them slightly.
"Yes, Agent Scully.  I remember.  You and 
your partner brought the little girl in, 
right?  I'm sorry for seeming a little 
brusque.  It's been kinda crazy here 
tonight."

Scully waved away his apologies.
"It's fine, really.  I understand how busy 
you must be.  But since you're here, can 
you tell me, is there any change?"

He shook his head. "I wish I could give 
you some good news, Agent Scully.  But no.  
I've just been up there, in fact.  I've 
seen this kind of thing before.  Only 
thing we can do is keep her as 
comfortable as possible and hope that 
she'll come out of it.  We've 
called her parents.  They'll be here
tomorrow.  Often just the sound of 
familiar voices can help break through 
the barriers.  For now, though, the best 
thing we can do is allow her to rest.  
She's finally sleeping.  I don't expect 
her to wake before morning."

He cocked his head on one side, 
contemplating the woman before him.
"Speaking of which, you look like you 
could use some yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"Some sleep.  To be perfectly honest, if 
I'd realized you were still here I'd have 
had one of the nurses send you home hours 
ago.  But like I said, it's been kinda 
crazy. Best thing you could do would be to 
go check into a motel somewhere and call 
us in the morning.  I have numbers of a 
couple of decent places if you need them."

Scully summoned up a tired smile, 
recognizing that he was just being polite.  
That he had better things to do than make 
small talk with her about local motels.

"No.  Thank you.  It's fine.  My partner 
has it all arranged already.  But I do 
think I'll take your advice.  You have our 
numbers, right?"

He nodded curtly. "Of course.  I'll ensure 
someone calls you if there's the slightest 
change.  Goodnight, Agent Scully."

She watched as he continued down the 
hallway, his white coat billowing behind 
him until he was swallowed up by the 
dozens of other medical personnel and 
patients milling around the enclosed 
space.  It suddenly felt too hot, and for 
a second everything seemed to turn liquid 
as she swayed slightly on her feet, the 
figures before her seeming to meld into 
one as they blurred and tumbled together.
Clutching blindly at a convenient 
vending machine, Scully opened and closed 
her eyes rapidly, blinking until her 
vision returned to normal.

<God, I must be tired.>

Time to collect her partner and call it a 
night.

Continued chapter 7

Dreamcatcher 7

Eeazy Sleep Motel.  Cleveland Ohio.  May 
5th 1999
1:32a.m.

They spent the journey back from the 
hospital in silence and Mulder suspected 
that their lack of communication had less 
to do with tiredness and everything to do 
with the perplexing nature of the case.

Certainly he had spent the drive 
formulating and dismissing several 
different theories as to what had happened 
earlier that evening.

And truthfully, he had no clue.  It was 
rare for him to be completely stumped by a 
case.  He hadn't been christened with the 
nickname *Spooky* for nothing.  Usually he 
could rely on intuition to guide him 
through the tangled web that so often made 
up an X-File. Tonight though, this same 
intuition had all but deserted him.

A slight movement beside him, caught in 
the corner of his eye, prompted him to 
twist his head toward his partner.

<Shit, she looks tired.>

It had been a long day for them both, 
sure, but aside from when she had been 
sick, he couldn't remember seeing her 
look so used up before.
Her face was pale, lit by the ghostly glow 
emanating from the illuminated dashboard, 
and the carefully applied make-up of the 
morning had all but disappeared.  It leant 
her a vulnerable, almost childlike air.
It also allowed him to see the dark 
shadows underneath her eyes.  Shadows that 
contrasted sharply against the creamy, 
white skin.

It worried him more than he would ever 
admit.  This case, horrific as it already 
was, would be doubly hard for her to deal 
with in light of the lingering wounds she 
carried close to her heart.  She never 
told him as such, but it wasn't hard for 
him to appreciate that she was still 
grieving for Emily.

They never talked about it.  He wasn't 
sure that she talked with anyone.  It 
wasn't Scully's way to admit need.  Not 
about anything. And certainly not to him.

He had caught her unawares once in the 
office they shared.  He had left for the 
day, needing to gather some information 
pertaining to a case they were working on.  
Mind elsewhere, he had reached his car 
only to discover that he had left his keys 
atop the desk where he had casually tossed 
them earlier in the day.

He had made his way back to the office, 
only to freeze in the half open doorway 
when he saw her.  Her back was to him, 
shoulders shaking slightly as she sobbed 
silently.  She was holding a photograph in 
her hand, tracing her finger over its 
surface.

Mulder hadn't been able to make out the 
picture upon it. He hadn't needed to.

*Emily.*

Scully's daughter.  Known for such a short 
time before she was taken from her, but 
long enough for Scully to love her.  
Long enough for her to mourn her passing.

Ignoring the need that ached within him to 
enter the office and take her in his arms, 
knowing that it wasn't what she wanted, he 
had pivoted and walked away, out of the 
building and straight to the nearest 
bar.  He hadn't moved until the bartender 
had begun to pointedly sweep the floor 
around his feet, signaling that it was 
time for Mulder to get the hell out so he 
could close up for the night.

And now, looking across at her, he prayed 
that she wasn't reliving past horrors.

"You okay, Scully?

He watched as she rubbed a hand across her 
face, attempting to bring herself back to 
alertness.

"I'm fine.  I'm just hoping you have some 
insight into all this, Mulder, because I 
sure as hell don't."

He didn't answer her.  He didn't know what 
to say.

"Mulder?"  she persisted.

He shrugged. "The truth, Scully?  I don't 
have a clue.  Three missing girls.  
One who turns up looking like she's 
been thrown into a Cuisinart?  A school 
that looks like it fell off the pages of 
Country Life magazine full of kids who 
make Stephen Hawking look ignorant?  
You tell me.  Maybe I'm losing my touch."

Scully absorbed his words, struck 
suddenly by the defeat she heard in them.  
It wasn't like him.  She was accustomed to 
hearing any number of outlandish theories 
spill from his lips.  And although she saw 
it as her purpose in life to balance out 
those same theories with the voice of 
reason, she also knew that she relied on 
him to make sense out of the things they 
encountered.

More than he would ever know.

"What about this?  You were going to 
explain it to me."

Mulder flicked his eyes away from the road 
and, for a second, settled them on the 
intricately woven framework of thread, 
beads and feathers. "It's called a 
dreamcatcher.  There are several Native 
American legends as to its purpose.  
I thought maybe it meant something.  
Now I'm not so sure."

Scully waited for him to continue, but 
after long seconds had passed 
uncomfortably between them, she delved a 
little deeper. "Care to share with me what 
that might be?"

Mulder sighed, the sound reaching her 
across the vast distance that seemed to 
separate them.  She'd seen this before, 
seen her partner withdraw into himself 
when in the grip of a difficult case.  The 
fact that she understood it, though, 
didn't necessarily mean she accepted it.

"It's a kind of good luck charm.  Meant to 
protect its owner against bad dreams.  
Kind of a preventative measure...it's 
an age-old story.  Passed through one 
generation to another..."

He trailed off as the lights of the motel 
came into view, and Scully waited until 
he'd piloted the car to a halt in front of 
the office before speaking again.

"I'd like to hear it."

Mulder froze, his hand halfway to the door 
release. "Hear what?"

"The legend."

"Of the Dreamcatcher?"

He sounded so incredulous that Scully 
almost laughed out loud. "That surprises 
you?  C'mon Mulder, you've spent the last 
six years filling my head with alien 
abduction stories, prehistoric lake 
monsters, all manner of mutants and 
freaks of nature, and you're *surprised* 
that I would want to hear a simple Native 
American folk tale?"

Mulder gazed at her, as though trying to 
figure out whether she was sincere or not.  
Her *asking* to hear one of his outlandish 
tales was such an un-Scully-like thing to 
do that for a few moments he was literally 
rocked backwards. Ever conscious, though, 
that she might just be humoring him, he 
offered her one last get-out clause.

"It's late.  You sure you want to hear it?  
It could wait till morning."

Scully smiled back at him softly. 
"Call it a bedtime story then."

Mulder laughed in response as the moment 
lightened perceptibly for both of them.
"Ahhhhh, Agent Scully, if you only knew 
how many times I've waited for you to 
say that..."  

**********


Thirty minutes later Scully regarded her 
partner from behind the over-sized 
Styrofoam cup of steaming hot chocolate, 
which he had magically produced from 
behind his back. 

He had, he'd informed her, taken a quick 
side trip across the street to the all-
night diner.  He proclaimed, solemnly 
enough to make her laugh, that no 
bedtime story was complete without 
chocolate and marshmallows.

It had made Scully feel like she was six 
years old again, evoking as it did sweet 
childhood memories of her mother coming 
into the bedroom she had shared with 
Melissa and sitting with them in the 
warmth of the room, as they listened 
wide-eyed to the stories she had told 
from *her* own childhood.

It seemed like only yesterday.  A thousand 
childhood memories that she herself had 
hoped one day to share with her own 
daughter. Memories now that would remain 
forever locked in her heart, to wither 
and die with her when the time came.  
There would be no one to share them with.  
Not now.

Mulder had commandeered the ratty sofa 
across from the bed where she half lay, 
half slouched against the headboard.

They had both showered and changed for 
bed.  She in comfortable satin pajamas, 
Mulder in cutoff sweats and an old T-
shirt.  There had maybe been a time, way 
back in the beginnings of their 
partnership, where Scully might have felt 
self-conscious to be seen by the man 
before her dressed so casually.
Not anymore though. Now, sharing time and 
space with him before he retreated to his 
own room for the night had become almost 
commonplace.  A way to allow the tensions 
of the day to flow from them before 
succumbing to sleep.

The Dreamcatcher lay at the bottom of the 
bed.  Scully had allowed herself to 
properly examine it while Mulder had 
jogged across to the diner to fetch hot 
chocolate. The intricate patterns had 
captured her imagination, and she had 
found herself tracing a finger along 
its edge, closing her eyes, drifting off.

She had to admit that something about it 
had piqued her curiosity, aroused a need 
within her to fully understand what it 
stood for.

So she waited for Mulder to begin, once 
again closing her eyes as his words 
swirled around the small room to settle 
against her very core.  He spoke softly, 
like a father recounting a fairy tale to a 
small, sleepy child, and Scully allowed 
herself to float on their crest.

"Throughout history, nearly every person 
and culture has placed importance on the 
meanings of their dreams. Dreams are still 
a powerful force in many people's lives, 
particularly because of the meanings that 
can be found in them.  I have a half dozen 
X-Files that speak of just such  
phenomena, Scully.  How dreams can affect 
our lives, our relationships, our everyday 
actions.  How by listening to and 
understanding what our dreams are telling 
us we can shape our very destiny."

He paused, and Scully was pretty sure he 
was sipping at his own hot chocolate, 
maybe getting his thoughts in order so as 
to tell the story in the way it was meant 
to be told.

"To the people of the Ojibway tribe, night 
visions, or *dreams*, were so important 
that children were not given a name until 
a person designated as the *namer* 
of that child had a dream of what name 
should be given. The *namer* would bestow 
a gift upon the child, a charm woven to 
look like a spider's web.  Hung from a 
loop above the baby's cradle, this 
Dreamcatcher was believed to catch any 
bad dreams floating in the air, 
ensnaring them like a spider's web traps 
an insect.  It was believed that only 
good dreams could pass through the 
hole in the center of the web, sliding 
down the feather at the bottom to fall 
into the baby's head.  The bad dreams 
couldn't navigate the web, and would hang 
there, suspended until the first rays of 
morning sunlight burned them away."

Scully opened her eyes and regarded her 
partner through hooded lids. "Sounds like 
something you could use.  Do you think 
they work?  The Dreamcatchers, I mean?"

Mulder shrugged. "Maybe.  If nothing else, 
you yourself know how powerful the act of 
suggestion can be.  Call it superstition 
if you will.  Good magic.  Whatever.  I 
think if the user *believes* it will 
protect their dreams, then it will.  
Much like the modern day version of a 
placebo.  Believe in something strongly 
enough and it becomes a kind of truth."

He was silent then, dropping his eyes from 
hers, and something inside Scully cracked 
as she read his expression.
Mulder had spent most of his life 
desperately wanting to believe.  
Steadfastly refusing to give up the 
belief, even in the face of ridicule, 
that he would one day be reunited with 
his sister.  It was a hope he clung to 
as if for life itself. His own version 
of a Dreamcatcher and just as elusive.

"Mulder..."

He shook his head wearily and rose to his 
feet. "It's late.  You're tired and we 
have an early start.  I should let you 
sleep."

<Don't go.>

"What?" He stopped in his tracks as though 
struck.  Had she just said what he thought 
she'd said?  He hadn't heard her exactly, 
or at least not in any traditional sense.  
But her words had reached him as surly as 
if she had whispered them directly in his 
ear.

"Stay.  Please."

She looked as confused as he did, as 
though she didn't know how to proceed.  
Sitting up in the oversize bed, she looked 
suddenly vulnerable, unsure of herself, of 
what was real.  But her expression cleared 
again, the confusion replaced with a kind 
of peaceful clarity.  The same expression 
he had seen fleetingly cross her face that 
night at the park, and without hesitation, 
he headed toward the bed, waiting as she 
scooted across to make space for him to 
join her.

His heart beat painfully as she reached 
out to him.  Allowing him to snake an arm 
around her so that her body rested against 
him softly.

"Tell me the rest of the story, Mulder."

And so he began again, losing himself in 
long-ago tales of  Indian women who could 
transform themselves magically into 
spiders, spinning webs to protect their 
fellow clansmen.  Of children protected 
for all eternity beneath the webs, 
sleeping peacefully beneath their silken 
strands asthe  women bestowed upon them gifts 
of peace and tranquility to carry them 
into dreams.

And long before he was finished, he felt 
Scully relax even further against him as 
she too was transported into gentle slumber.  

Her breathing was deep, peaceful as she 
rested against him, and for a few minutes 
he luxuriated in the feel of her.  
He watched over her as she slept, trying 
to make the agonizing decision whether to 
stay or go.

Finally, he carefully planted a 
kiss on her brow, feeling the heat of her 
skin against his own lips, before 
reluctantly disentangling her from him and 
laying her gently against the pillows.

His movements were such that she didn't 
stir, not even when he reached down and 
smoothed a few strands of the rich, titian 
hair from where it rested against her 
porcelain skin.

<Sweet dreams, Scully.>

Continued chapter 8

Dreamcatcher 8

Eeazy Sleep Motel  Cleveland Ohio May 5th
3:59a.m.

Scully was hot.  Uncomfortably hot, 
actually, and through a haze of awakening 
senses she wondered if the air 
conditioning was malfunctioning.  Sure, 
they had enjoyed an unseasonably warm 
spring this year, but the nights were still 
cool enough to warrant at least one 
blanket - if not two.

She flipped over on her back, groaning 
softly as she did so, feeling the tangled 
mass of sheets twisting around her legs.  
Her pajamas, usually so comfortable, felt 
like a lead weight against her burning 
skin, a fine sheen of perspiration making 
them cling unpleasantly to her.

"Wake up Dana...before Mom and Dad hear 
us..."

<Melissa?>

Scully burrowed her head further into the 
pillow, feeling it mould itself against 
her face.  Murmuring softly, still half 
immersed in dreams.

"Go 'way, Missy. It's too early..." Her 
voice was soft, almost imperceptible.  

Childlike.

Scully squeezed her eyes closed again.  
Determined that she should be permitted to 
drift back to sleep.

And then...

"Dana Katherine Scully, I expect you down 
here in five minutes.  Don't make me come 
up there and fetch you!"

Scully's eyes flew open as she bolted 
upright, heart racing as the voice 
reverberated around her head.

<MOM??>

Blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to 
the darkness, Scully appraised her 
surroundings.  Disoriented as she was by 
the unfamiliar room, it took her a couple 
of seconds to realize where she was.

{Motel room.  Ohio.  *Case.*}

A dream.

Nothing more.

Scully allowed a small smile to curve her 
lips as she remembered her mother's 
patented method of persuading her less 
than enthusiastic daughter to drag herself 
out of bed in the mornings. It was a 
threat she used on all her children, but 
only Bill had ever pushed her to the 
limits, testing her resolve with typical 
boyish arrogance, wondering just what fate 
would befall him if he chose to ignore his 
mother's warning.She suspected that even 
her mother had not really thought it 
through enough to formulate a plan should 
one of her offspring *not* react to her 
calls.But the sight of Margaret Scully
sweeping up the stairs, clutching the 
pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice 
in her hand, would remain in Scully's 
memory forever. 
 
They had followed her, giggling in 
childlike wonderment.  Melissa leading the 
way, Dana second with little Charlie 
tagging along behind, screaming with 
laughter as Margaret stomped into 
Bill's bedroom to deposit the pitcher's 
contents, pulp and all, squarely over his 
tousled head.

His eleven-year-old male pride had taken a 
severe battering that day.  One which the 
whole family, but Dana in particular, had 
taken great delight in reminding him of 
throughout his teenage years.

None of the Scully offspring had ever been 
late down to breakfast again.

"I guessed that would work."

<What?!>

Scully whirled around to confront the 
voice that came from somewhere to her 
right, reaching blindly for the gun she 
had left on the night stand as she did so.

It wasn't there.

Her hand groped wildly, connecting with 
nothing more substantial than fresh air, 
and her eyes widened as she realized that 
the dim outlines of the room's furniture 
had disappeared.

That the *room* had disappeared.

No longer tangled in sheets and blankets, 
she was surrounded by blackness.  An oily, 
all-consuming darkness that pressed in on 
her, stealing away her breath, squeezing 
painfully at her chest.

She was conscious of being in an upright 
position, although she could feel no 
surface beneath her bare feet.

<This is a dream.  I've fallen asleep 
again.>

"You're not asleep, Agent Scully...but 
you're not exactly awake either."

That voice again, familiar in ways she as 
yet couldn't fathom, reaching out to her 
through the blackness.  A child's voice, 
but not a *young* child. There was no 
threat in the voice.  In fact, it seemed 
devoid of any emotion at all.  

And then, out of the darkness she began to 
make out the form of a young girl, a young 
girl who seemed vaguely recognizable as 
she came toward her.  Hand outstretched 
before her, she seemed to float toward 
Scully. Like an angel, she was surrounded 
by a hazy ethereal glow that shimmered 
softly, undulating with every step she 
took.  Her long blonde hair lay softly 
against her shoulders, and as she came 
closer Scully could make out the china 
blue eyes, eyes that seemed to penetrate 
her soul as they searched the face of 
the woman before her.

Scully saw no danger in those eyes, just a 
deep, yearning sadness that pulled at her 
heart.  The eyes of a child who has seen a 
lifetime of horror.  The eyes of a 
survivor.

She was conscious that the heat in the 
room had disappeared, to be replaced with 
a delicious coolness that washed over her 
body, a breeze lifting her hair to waft 
gently around her face as the child came 
to a halt before her.

Scully allowed herself to breathe again.  
She knew, somehow, that there was nothing 
to fear from this child, and she 
accepted the touch of the cool fingers 
that tentatively reached for her own, 
holding onto them as she locked eyes 
with her.

"We knew you'd come."

Scully shook her head. "I don't 
understand. Why am I here?"

Her voice trailed off as Felicia Slabbert 
raised one slender finger until it rested 
against Scully's lips.

"Sssshhhhhh! Not here.  He'll hear you.  
Come with me." 

***************

Scully tilted her face up toward the deep 
blue sky, feeling the warmth of the sun's 
rays against her skin.

She was seated opposite Felicia atop a 
grassy knoll covered in impossibly large 
daisies that attracted the most beautiful 
butterflies Scully had ever seen.  An 
array of dazzling, ever changing colors, 
the butterflies dipped and danced between 
them, seemingly unafraid of their 
presence.

Off in the distance Scully could just 
make out the ocean, its surface made up 
of a million sparkling diamonds that 
caught the sun's rays.  It should, by 
rights, have hurt her eyes, made her 
squint against the brilliance, but she 
found she could settle her gaze upon it 
without fear of harm.

It was so peaceful, with only the sound of 
twittering birdsong to disturb the peace 
and quiet of this green paradise.

For a long while they didn't speak, and 
Scully was content just to drink in her 
surroundings.  She didn't pretend to 
understand what was happening, how she had 
gotten here, and truthfully, it just 
didn't matter. The how and why were of no 
significance to her now.

"It's so beautiful," she ventured finally.

Felicia dropped her eyes to the ground.  
Busying her fingers, she plucked at a 
daisy, snapping its fragile stem with one 
deft action and holding it out toward 
Scully.

"Nothing is beautiful here, Agent Scully.  
It's all an illusion. Watch."

Scully watched in fascinated silence as 
the blossom in Felicia's outstretched hand 
began to writhe and twist against its 
confines.  Its stem began to pulse 
sickeningly before it split halfway up, 
revealing a thick yellowish ooze that 
pooled against the girl's delicate fingers 
and dripped in glistening, squirming 
droplets to the ground. The grass beneath 
it withered instantly, curling and 
crisping as though touched by fire.

The blossom seemed to turn in upon 
itself, its center splitting to reveal a 
nest of what Scully could only guess was 
the larval stage of some as yet unimagined 
insect.  Nestled within the glistening 
folds of the flower, womb-like, protected 
by a thin layer of mucus, the insects 
turned lazily.

Feeling the bile rising in the back of her 
throat, Scully slammed her eyes shut.

This is a nightmare.  This is *not* 
real>

"Now look again, Dana."

And even while the ever present voice of 
reason was still screaming at her that 
this couldn't be so, Scully found herself 
acquiescing to the child's wishes.  
She opened her eyes and focused on the 
daisy.

So white it appeared almost silver in the 
sunlight.  Beautiful.  Perfect.  Fragrant.  
Innocent.

"Take it.  It's OK," Felicia urged.  "This 
is how you are meant to see it. It's 
always like this in the beginning."

"The beginning?"  Scully allowed Felicia 
to hand her the flower.  Its stem was 
almost velvety in texture.  Warm and soft 
in her hand.

"I don't understand.  Where are we?"

"In the Dreamcatcher.  Snared in its web 
like insects.  Captured for eternity or 
until the sun burns us away.  This is how 
it captures us.  It lures us away with 
promises of sunshine, of everlasting 
summer days.  Of a land where all our 
dreams come true....But slowly, slowly it 
shows its true purpose."

Scully felt her heart beginning to beat 
painfully against her chest as she 
listened to the child's words.  This 
couldn't be happening.  This was just a 
dream, brought on by Mulder's words.  
Words that had lulled her to sleep.

"Its true purpose?" Her voice sounded 
faint, far away, a faint buzzing in her 
ears making it difficult to think clearly.

Felicia's eyes filled with tears, which 
quickly began to make a glistening trail 
across her cheeks. "It steals our dreams and 
leaves us only with our deepest nightmares."

She pointed to an area out of Scully's 
immediate field of vision, and closed her 
eyes as the woman before her twisted to 
see what it was that had commanded her 
attention.  

The tears ran faster, unchecked, as 
Felicia finally broke down completely, 
slamming her hands over her ears in a 
vain attempt to block out the sound 
of Scully's screams.

*************

5:05a.m.

"*EMILYYYYYYYY!*"

The sound of his partner screaming was 
enough to propel Mulder tumbling out of 
bed and halfway to the connecting door 
before the sound had even fully 
registered in his mind. His forward 
momentum carried him into Scully's room, 
and for a  heart-stopping second 
he couldn't see her.

The bed, its coverings rumpled, was empty.

But then, as he became fully aware, he 
heard her again.  Sobbing, rasping his 
name as she tried to draw breath. Huddled 
in a corner, cheek pressed up against 
the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut 
against whatever horror she had visited 
in her dreams to make her cry out her 
daughter's name, his partner whimpered 
softly.

Mulder clamped down on the basic urge to 
just get to her as quickly as possible and 
forced himself to approach slowly, 
cautiously. Right now he had no way of 
knowing whether she was asleep or awake. 
He knew enough about nightmares to know 
that, even if it was not strictly true 
that waking someone in the grips of a 
bad dream could cause irreversible 
damage, it was certainly true 
that the sufferer would be disorientated.  
He had no wish to add to Scully's panic.

As he got closer, he could see her eyes 
had opened, her lashes wet with the tears 
that still clung to them. Beyond that, 
though, he had no idea as to her state 
of mind.

Careful not to touch her, he hunkered down 
in front of her, hardly breathing as he 
whispered her name. "Scully."

In response to his voice, Mulder was 
rewarded when her eyes focused on him.  
Wherever she was, she could hear him.  
Could recognize him.

But even as she relaxed slightly, he could 
see the lingering terror in her 
expression, and his throat tightened as he 
watched the tears once again pool in her 
luminous blue eyes.

"Ssshhh, Scully.  It's OK.  You're safe."

Cupping her face in his hands, he used his 
thumbs to gently wipe the wetness from 
her cheeks.  Still he hardly dared to 
breathe lest he frighten her more than she 
already was.

"Muh...Mulder?"

He had to strain to hear her.  His name 
was the merest whisper on her trembling 
lips as she reached out for him.

"It's OK.  Ssshhh, Scully.  I'm here."

Then, as he watched the recognition 
snap into her expression, he allowed her 
to bolt into the security of his waiting 
arms, enveloping her in his embrace as 
she sobbed against his chest. Her hands 
clutched at his shirt as he rocked her 
gently against him.

In between her choking sobs, she managed 
to gasp out a few words, which although 
muffled, made some sort of sense to him.

A dream.  A *nightmare* in which her dead 
daughter had a starring role. As real to 
her as he was now.

Mulder knew firsthand the numbing power of 
nightmares.  Too many nights waking up 
with the sound of his own screaming 
reverberating in his head had taught him 
well. 

Seeking to calm her, he began to stroke 
his palm in rhythmic motions from the 
crown of her head to her shoulders, 
whispering assurances to her all the 
while. He was rewarded finally when her 
trembling stilled and she was able to once 
again lift her head from where she had 
buried it against the folds of his T-shirt.

"You OK?"

A shaky nod, a trembling smile that tore 
into his heart and ripped it in to a 
million pieces. She looked all of twelve 
years old and just as vulnerable.

"It seemed so real," she whispered.  "Like 
I could reach out and touch her..."

Mulder caught her hands in his, quieting 
her. "It was a dream, Scully.  Just a 
dream."
Her hands were cold, and he realized that 
she was clad only in the thin satin pajamas
he had seen earlier. "You're freezing.  
Let's get you back to bed."

Fear flared in her eyes once again and she 
pulled away from him, cracking the back of 
her head solidly against the wall. "NO!  I 
don't want to go back to sleep."

Mulder winced.

<Some nightmare.>

Nevertheless, he persisted gently. "OK, no 
sleep.  But you can't stay here, you'll 
catch your death..."

"Will you stay?"

Again, that same childlike whispering 
voice.  So unlike Scully it frightened him 
and he felt his eyes begin to burn with 
the tears that suddenly blinded him. 

"Of course I'll stay.  I'll always be 
here, Scully, you know that.  For as long 
as you need me to be."

"Promise me, Mulder.  Promise me you'll 
never leave me."

<God, Scully, how can you even ask me 
that?  Don't you realize what you mean 
to me?>

He caught her hands in his again, drawing 
her gently to her feet before pulling her 
toward him to embrace her again.

"I promise."

Continued chapter 9

Dreamcatcher 9


Eeazy Sleep Motel.  Cleveland Ohio  May 5th
7:09a.m.

Sleep had eluded Mulder for the remainder 
of the night.  The sound of his partner's 
screams seemed etched on his brain, 
resurfacing inside his head every time he 
closed his eyes.  The sight of her 
terrified, tear-streaked face remained 
fresh in his mind, difficult if not 
impossible to ignore.

She had allowed him to lead her back over 
to the bed, not needing her permission to 
join her beneath the covers.  He had 
recognized her need and acted upon it.  As 
simple as that.

It had taken her a long while to stop 
shivering, and even when he spooned his 
body around hers, he had felt the 
trembling continue.  He had a feeling it 
had nothing whatsoever to do with her 
being cold and more of a reaction to what 
she had seen that night.

And it had scared him. More than he would 
ever tell her.

Eventually, her trembling had stilled, and 
she had reached over to grasp his hand in 
hers.  An unspoken acknowledgement that 
she was *fine*.  An unspoken thank you.
Mulder had held onto her long after her 
grip on him had loosened, listening to her 
breathing become sweet and even as she 
once more fell in to sleep. And despite 
sharing this space with her, he hadn't felt 
awkward.  His body hadn't betrayed the 
way he felt about her, maybe because 
he recognized that she needed him there 
as a kind of protective force.
Nothing more than that.

And, he had watched over her as she slept.  
Carefully searching her face for any 
slight changes in expression that might 
signify that the demons were resurfacing.
But she had remained quiet, hardly moving 
except to snuggle more deeply into his 
embrace.

How she would feel when she awoke was a 
different matter altogether. Awkward 
maybe.
Ashamed that she had expressed the basic 
need to be comforted? Possibly. Angry with 
herself? *Certainly.*

It wasn't Scully.  It never had been, and 
no doubt she would be mortified when she 
finally opened her eyes and realized what 
she'd asked of him.

But right now, she was sleeping 
peacefully, and despite a burning need 
inside of him to face the day, Mulder was 
determined to let her rest for as long as 
he was able.

He didn't want to wake her up.  He didn't 
want to see the walls slamming back into 
place as she once more drew away from him.

In his wildest dreams, he wanted her to 
open up to him.  To talk about what had 
happened last night.  To make sense of it.  
To accept it so she might eventually find 
some peace. He wondered how many other 
times her daughter had visited her during 
her dreams.  How many times had she 
awakened screaming Emily's name? 
One?  Ten?  A hundred?  More?

How many mornings had she greeted him 
brightly as she crossed the threshold of 
the office they shared, while covering the 
heartbreak with a smile?

Mulder didn't even want to think about it.  

It hurt too much to imagine her in a place 
where she felt she had to brave the hurt 
alone.  That despite the trust they had in 
one another, they didn't allow themselves 
to trust enough when it *really* mattered.

They would walk to the ends of the earth 
for each other.  Of that he was certain.  
But admit to themselves that they needed 
help?  Never.

It just wasn't their way.  

He held his breath as, beneath the weight 
of his arms, Scully stirred slightly.

<Not yet.  I just need to hold you a 
little longer.>

His unspoken prayer remained unanswered, 
however, as little by little his partner 
began to awaken.

And then he felt it. He felt her body 
stiffen as she realized where she was.  
Where *he* was, and she immediately 
sought to escape from his embrace.

Scully twisted her body around, as though 
to affirm that it really *was* Mulder who 
lay beside her in the bed.

*Her* bed.

Under different circumstances, Mulder 
might have laughed at the expression on 
her face.  But suddenly, nothing seemed 
very funny anymore.  Maybe it was the fact 
that Scully was looking at him as though 
he were something particularly unpleasant 
she had just tracked in on the bottom of 
her shoe.

Or maybe it was the fact that despite what 
little sleep she had managed to grab the 
night before, she looked like death warmed 
over.

"Mulder?" she queried uncertainly.

"You had a nightmare.  You were 
screaming,"  he offered by way of 
explanation and watched as 
his words finally registered.

"A nightmare?"  She sounded incredulous, 
and despite himself, Mulder felt himself 
becoming defensive.

"I don't remember..." she offered.

Mulder frowned

<How the hell can you not remember, Scully?  
You shook in my arms for over an hour for 
Chrissakes...>

"Believe me, Scully.  It happened.  I was 
there..."

Scully regarded him for a few seconds.

 A nightmare?

<Nothing is as it seems here, Agent 
Scully.>

<Children screaming.  Darkness.  Bone and 
tissue.>

And then it was gone, leaving her with 
only the vaguest sense of unease as she 
watched Mulder watching her. Pulling 
herself together, she shrugged. "OK.  
I had a nightmare.  You were there.  
I accept that.  But why are you here 
*now*?"

The words came out harsher than she had 
meant them to, and as the hurt washed over 
Mulder's face, she wished more than 
anything that she could pull them back in.
Confusion as to what he was saying 
had made her barriers slam back into 
place.  She didn't refute what he was 
telling her.  He would never lie to her.  
So why couldn't she remember?

He swung his legs across to the opposite 
side of the bed and slowly got to his 
feet.  He didn't look at her again, but 
his final words reached her just as he was 
about to head through the connecting door.

"Because you asked me to."

And suddenly, inexplicably, watching him 
walk away from her she felt like crying.

************


7:36a.m.

"So what now?"

Mulder regarded his partner as she stood 
before him. With cosmetic application 
masking the shadows beneath her eyes, 
and her hair perfectly styled, she 
appeared the epitome of professional 
togetherness.  The black tailored suit 
she had chosen, like most of her 
*other* black tailored suits, succeeded 
admirably in masking her obvious 
femininity.  

Scully's armour.  Firmly back in place.  
Impenetrable even for him. *Especially* 
for him.

She refused to meet his eyes, and the 
words were forced.  Stilted.  As though 
she would much rather not be speaking to 
him at all.

He glanced at his watch and attempted to 
lighten the moment. "Well, I don't know 
about you, but I was thinking maybe coffee 
and bagels..."

"I'm not hungry."

Three words.  Three words that told him 
everything he needed to know.

<I don't want to get into a situation 
with you, Mulder.  I don't want to talk 
about what happened last night.>

And suddenly, he was angry.  More angry 
with her than he could ever remember.

<Don't do this, Scully.  Don't fucking 
shut me out.  *You* asked *me* remember.  
Don't pull this tired crap on me now.  
Not after what you said last night.>

He sighed, ignoring the voice in his 
head.  He was accustomed to disregarding 
it where this woman was concerned. "OK.  
So what *do* you want to do?  When's 
the autopsy scheduled?  Nine-thirty, 
right?"

She nodded.  Finally deigning to meet his 
eyes, issuing a direct challenge so 
intense that Mulder could almost see the 
chips of ice that surely lay beneath their 
surface. "Get breakfast.  I'll meet you 
there."

Without another word, she turned on her 
heel and left him standing, staring after 
her in disbelief. 

What the hell was going on here?

**********



Coroner's Office.  Cleveland Ohio  
9:14a.m.

Scully squinted against the bright light 
from the powerful overheads that lit the 
autopsy bay.

Only a couple of hours into the day and 
she felt like she was ready to fall back 
into bed. A headache had sprung up back at 
the motel, and despite dry-swallowing a 
couple of pain pills, Scully could still 
feel it stabbing viciously in the 
background.  It had settled in the 
center of her forehead, very similar 
to the headaches that had 
plagued her during her illness.

Her *illness*.

She wasn't sure when she'd blocked the 
word "cancer" from her vocabulary.  Just 
that it wasn't a term she consciously used 
anymore. 

It was easier to just generalize, because 
by generalizing she could almost pretend 
it had never happened.  Could pretend that 
it wouldn't again. Like hiding underneath 
the covers in an effort to protect oneself 
from the bogeyman. If you couldn't see 
him, he wasn't there.

If she didn't say the word "cancer," it 
ceased to exist.

Simple, really.

*Stupid*.

She shook her head in an effort to clear 
it and once more turned her attention to 
the remains before her.  It was tough to 
know exactly where to begin.

What had once been the body of Elizabeth 
Armstrong was now just a glutinous mass, 
held together by nothing more substantial 
than a shallow plastic container in which
it resided. 
 Scully knew that should she even attempt to 
release it from its confines, Lilly 
Armstrong would in all likelihood 
disappear forever down the gaping drainage 
hole at the far end of the table.

What the hell had done this to her?
And more to the point, *why* had it been 
done?

It was difficult to imagine that this mess 
before her had once been a human being.  
Much less a child.  Scully had seen some 
horrific sights during her time with the 
X-Files, bodies so horribly decayed that 
she had imagined their stench clinging 
to her skin hours, sometimes days later.  
But this?  
This was different somehow, not least 
because of the singular lack of any 
evidence to explain it in any logical 
way.

Scully sighed heavily.  Nonetheless, it 
was her job to at least attempt to 
give this whole situation some kind of 
scientific meaning.

Dropping her head once more, she peered in 
closer to better sift through the wreckage 
beneath her.  Carefully, almost 
reverently, she picked through the 
slivers of bone and tissue that had 
survived relatively intact, 
occasionally pausing to lift a larger 
piece out of the container.  Transferring 
it to a smaller receptacle for further 
analysis later.

The irony did not escape her that there 
was in all probability nothing to find.

But she continued working.  Methodical 
and thorough in her actions, her years of 
training had taught her that sometimes, 
even the tiniest clue might hold the 
answer to the most perplexing crime.

And then she saw it.  A tiny thread that 
glistened in the harsh light.

Strung as it was between two small pieces 
of bone, Scully's first assumption was that 
it might be a strand of hair.  A single 
strand of Elizabeth's corn-blonde pigtail 
that had somehow survived whatever fate 
had befallen the child.

Carefully, she captured the thread between 
the tweezers' jaws, pulling softly, 
rewarded when, for the barest moment, the 
material slid toward her, and then...

"Shit!"

Scully cursed softly as the thread 
snapped, falling back against the bone.  
No, not falling.  Floating.  It floated 
gently downward, camouflaging itself 
perfectly against the surface. And 
suddenly Scully realized what it was 
she was seeing.

<Children protected for all eternity 
beneath her web, sleeping peacefully 
beneath her silken strands.>

Mulder's voice as he recounted his tale to 
her as she had hovered on the fringes of 
sleep...and another voice inside her 
head, deep down in her subconscious, 
clamoring to be heard.

<Nothing is beautiful here, Agent Scully.  
It's all an illusion...>

She backed away from the table, her eyes 
never leaving the spot where she knew the 
silken remnants of the spider's web to be, 
inexplicably needing to place some 
distance between herself and...and...

<And what, Dana?  Think.  *Think!*>

God, it was hot in here.

She pulled at the mask that covered her 
face, gulping in the air as though her 
life depended on it, stumbling backward 
as she did so, heedless of any obstacles 
that might be in her path.  Needing to get 
away. To escape.

The room blurred suddenly, forcing her to 
slam her eyes closed as the world around 
her began to tilt at an impossible angle.
Like a climber balanced precariously on 
the edge of a sheer cliff, she fought to 
retain her balance as the floor rolled and 
churned crazily beneath her.

<Children screaming.  Darkness.  Bone and 
tissue.>

Children. Oh God, the *children*.

So many frightened children, reaching out 
to her, their innocent faces twisted in 
terror as they implored her to help them.  
To set them free.  

And in the middle of it all a vision of 
Emily.  *Her Emily*.  Crying out her name 
even as she was taken from her. 

<Mommmeeeeee!>

Scully cried out as a hand gripped her 
upper arm.  She could feel the fingers 
that curled around her tender flesh, 
digging deep.  Bruising her.

"SCULLY, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"

Mulder's voice.  High pitched.  Panicked 
even.  Far away somehow.

But it was enough.

Scully's eyes snapped open abruptly.  The 
first thing she was conscious of was her 
partner's white, pinched face.  She could 
clearly see the pulse that jumped rapidly 
at his temple.  By its rhythm, she 
guessed that he was badly frightened.  
That *she* was the one who had frightened 
him.

His grip on her loosened a fraction as his 
eyes searched her face.  

"Scully...talk to me," he implored 
hoarsely.

And just before the world began to spin 
again, she breathed out a single word that 
seemed to hang between them like an early 
morning mist, her voice so soft that 
Mulder was unsure as to whether she'd even 
spoken at all.

"Dreamcatcher..."

The word barely registered as, right 
before his horrified eyes, his partner 
pitched forward into unconsciousness.

Continued chapter 10

Dreamcatcher 10


Coroner's Office, Cleveland, Ohio  May 5th
10:13a.m.

Scully settled her gaze on the chipped, 
pitted surface of the wooden table top.

The Cleveland Coroner's office wasn't big 
enough to house an employee dining area as 
such, but this jumble of mismatched 
furniture surrounded by wall-mounted 
vending machines seemed to do the job 
pretty well.  It was tucked away in a far 
corner of the building, and they had been 
ushered here by a worried looking lab 
assistant in response to Scully's absolute 
insistence that she was fine.

She was aware of Mulder's eyes on her.  
Even from his position behind her she 
could feel them, boring into her back 
like twin lasers.

He wasn't happy, and she shivered as she 
recalled the pitch of his voice as she had 
issued orders that he cancel his call for 
the EMTs. She had recovered quickly, and 
could see little point in having a 
paramedic tell her what she already knew.

A combination of a raging headache, too 
little sleep and no food for twenty-four 
hours had been the main contributory 
factors to her fainting, and no amount of 
argument from her partner was going to 
change that.

But he had been angry.  Possibly more 
angry at her than she had ever seen, and 
despite being fully aware that much of 
that anger stemmed from the fact he was 
concerned, she hadn't liked it one bit.

It was amazing, Scully reflected ruefully, 
how quickly the curious onlookers had 
melted away when she and Mulder had 
started shouting at each other, leaving 
only the young lab guy to show them to 
this room. Even then, he had turned on 
his heel and practically run down the 
corridor to escape. No doubt she 
and Mulder would be the topic of hushed 
conversations for a few days to come.

Nothing new there.

"Here.  Drink this."

Mulder set a steaming cup of something in 
front of Scully.  She wasn't sure, but 
suspected the grayish, anemic-looking 
liquid *might* be tea.  Corporate vending 
machines weren't generally known for their 
differentiating skills where drinks were 
concerned, and usually it was impossible 
to identify a beverage by sight alone.  
The last thing she felt like doing right 
now was to sit here under Mulder's 
scrutiny playing a game of 
*guess the drink*, but nevertheless she 
dutifully brought the cup to her lips, 
wincing as she got a first taste of the 
liquid.

Yep, it was tea all right, or some version 
thereof.  It was hard to tell beneath the 
sweetness.

She set the cup down.  "Mulder, there's 
sugar in this.  I don't *take* sugar in 
drinks. You know that."

He shrugged, his face almost devoid of 
emotion as he struggled to keep his anger 
in check.  He didn't fool Scully.  Too 
much time spent around this man when he 
was wrestling with his emotions had taught 
her that an expressionless face usually 
meant anything but.

"I figured you could use the 
carbohydrates."

Scully narrowed her eyes.  Was he 
purposely baiting her?  Trying to provoke 
another argument? She sighed.  No.  If 
anything, he sounded more worried 
than angry, and besides, another screaming 
match would achieve absolutely nothing.
Each as stubborn as the other, neither 
one would be prepared to back down.

Scully insisting she was *fine*.  Mulder 
insisted equally as vehemently that she 
patently *wasn't*. A no-win situation.

They'd been there before.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly and 
forced herself to take another sip of the 
burning liquid.

The silence stretched uncomfortably 
between them as Mulder drummed his fingers 
on the hard surface. Finally, he rocked 
back in his chair and folded his arms 
across his chest.

"Dreamcatcher?"

Scully frowned.  "What?"

"*Dreamcatcher*.  It's what you said to me 
before you passed out.  I wondered why."

Dreamcatcher?  She'd said that?  Scully 
dragged her mind back.  She remembered 
being in the autopsy bay, remembered 
looking down at the remains of Elizabeth 
Armstrong. 
Suddenly feeling as though the world had 
tilted on its axis, and then...

*Nothing*.

Just a blank space until she had opened 
her eyes in response to her partner's 
voice as he cradled her in his arms, both 
of them on the floor.  She assumed he'd 
laid her down there when she lost 
consciousness.

Dreamcatcher?

She shook her head slightly, the confusion 
all too evident on her face.  "I have no 
idea.  No clue as to why I might have 
said that."

By the look on Mulder's face, it was 
obvious that he hadn't expected anything 
different from her.  Because he plainly 
didn't understand it either.

"Why?"  she prompted.  "Do you think it 
means something?"

Mulder almost smiled at her earnestness.  
There was a time when Scully wouldn't even 
have asked him that question.  So rigidly 
had she been bound by the constraints of 
science that to even entertain the notion 
that the word *might* have some 
significance to the case wouldn't have 
even entered her mind.

But things changed.  Dana Scully had 
changed.

Slowly but surely, he had seen her loosen 
her grip on the hope that everything could 
be explained rationally, within the realm 
of the tangible.  And while he never 
expected or wanted her to totally let 
go of her pragmatic approach, it was 
heartening to see the way her mind had 
opened as a result of all they had seen 
over the past six years.

Dreamcatcher.

He rolled the word around his mind.  
Tested it.  Made it his.  Certainly, he 
was intrigued, although at the same time 
he knew that it could just be a random 
coincidence.  A reaction to the case?  To 
what they had seen?  To the legend he had 
lulled her to sleep with the night before?

To all those things?

Even so.  It was strange.

"I don't know," he admitted eventually, 
glancing at his watch as he did so.  "But 
one thing's for certain.  We aren't going 
to get anything answered by just 
sitting here."

Scully nodded, and drained the last of the 
tea, attempting not to grimace in disgust 
as the sugary dregs passed over her 
tongue.  Mulder watched her, satisfied for 
now that she had at least backed down 
enough to do as he had asked.

If only everything were as simple as 
persuading her to take sugar in her 
drinks.

But it was a start.  Albeit a small 
victory.

"Better?"

She nodded.

"Much. And Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

Dropping her eyes, she reached across the 
table and briefly grasped his fingers, 
squeezing gently before releasing them 
again. "Thanks.  I'm sorry I went off at 
you.  I'm tired, I guess."

Mulder blinked stupidly.  An admission?  
From Scully?  Jeez, this day was going to 
go down in history, and for a second he 
wished he had a tape recorder so he might 
capture the moment forever.  Just for 
all the future instances when he would 
ask her how she was and she would reply 
without really thinking about it.  
Just so he could depress the playback 
button to remind her that sometimes it was 
Okay to admit she felt like crap.

"You sure you're Okay now?" he repeated, 
almost laughing out loud as her answer 
automatically fell from her lips.

"I'm fine."

**********

Brackenhurst Learning Facility for 
Extraordinary Children, Cleveland, Ohio
11:01a.m.

Leaving his partner to continue with her 
aborted attempts to analyze Elizabeth 
Armstrong's remains, Mulder had taken a 
quick side trip back to the motel before 
piloting the rental car the thirty-minute 
drive to the school.

An idea had been formulating in his mind, 
nothing specific, just random threads that 
seemed to tickle his senses, reaching out 
to him to be heard.

*Dreamcatcher*.

It had taken him a few minutes to locate 
the charm.  Scully's room had been in a 
minor state of disarray from the events of 
the previous night.  But after a few 
minutes of hurried searching, he had found 
what he was looking for.

The Dreamcatcher had lain, half concealed 
between the edge of the bed and the 
discarded comforter, probably in the same 
place it had fallen when Scully had 
tumbled out of bed in the grip of the 
nightmare.

And in all honesty, he had almost 
forgotten that it existed at all.  Until 
an hour ago in the autopsy bay when 
his frightened partner had reminded 
him.  Hearing the single word spill 
from her lips before she had collapsed 
against him had made him recoil slightly.  
And even then, he hadn't really made any 
connection.  His only thought had been 
on the woman before him.

But now, as his mind had settled once 
again on the case at hand, he had time 
to re-evaluate his earlier dismissal.

He wasn't sure what, if anything, he was 
hoping to discover by making a return trip 
to the school, but he had a strong hunch 
that there was more to all this than met 
the eye.  Having spoken to Skinner just a 
scant few minutes before, he had been 
uncomfortably aware that he had nothing of 
any significance to report to his
superior and hadn't missed the terseness 
directed at him because of this.

Skinner, on the whole, was a sympathetic 
ally toward their work.  But he expected 
results.  Results that right now, Mulder 
was aware that he wasn't even halfway to 
providing.

Turning his attention back to the here and 
now, Mulder rolled the car to a halt in 
front of the impressive building.  The 
bright sunshine did little to lessen its 
air of importance and, if anything, it 
seemed even more of a looming presence 
than it had last night.

The tasseled bell pull swung gently in 
the breeze, as if issuing an invitation to 
him. Never one to stand on ceremony, 
Mulder grasped it firmly.  Unlike last 
night, however, no smiling child was 
there to greet him.  Instead he found 
himself confronted with the pinched, 
white face of Julia Brackenhurst.

"Agent Mulder...I'm sorry, I wasn't 
expecting..."  She trailed off wearily and 
stood aside for him to enter.

The large, opulent vestibule seemed 
hushed.  Empty somehow.

Last night he had not been surprised by 
the silence, given the relative lateness 
of the hour. But today he had expected to 
see evidence of the school's unique 
teaching system at work.

Julia caught his look and sighed heavily.
"I had the students' parents pick them up 
this morning.  After what happened last 
night, they didn't need much persuading."

She sounded defeated.  Used up.  The voice 
of a woman who has seen her dreams crumble 
to dust before her eyes.  And although 
Mulder could understand her reasoning in 
trying to protect her young charges, her 
news was neither welcomed nor expected.

"They're gone?  *All* of them?"

Julia shook her head slightly.  "No, not 
all.  Most, but not all.  As I explained 
to you and Agent Scully yesterday, some 
of the students here have had their share 
of problems.  Not all of them have 
parents to go back *to*.  This is their 
home.  They have nowhere else to go."

Mulder breathed again.  OK, so he wasn't 
exactly batting a thousand here, but it 
was a start.

"OK.  Would it be possible to have a few 
minutes with each of them?  I need to ask 
them a few questions, if you have no 
objections."

"Questions?  Agent Mulder, they're just 
children.  Extraordinary children, 
intelligent children, but just *children* 
nonetheless.  What could you possibly 
hope to learn from them?"

Mulder shrugged, the answer to her 
question unclear even to him.  He attempted 
to answer her as best he could.  
"I don't know.  But in my experience, 
children sometimes have far more 
to tell us than we realize."

He watched the woman closely as she 
sized him up.  Clearly disturbed by the 
notion that any of her young charges might 
be able to shed any light on the horrific 
occurrences of the last week, she was not 
yet prepared to dismiss his request out of 
hand.

Eventually, her expression cleared 
slightly even if her tone of voice was 
full of doubt. "OK.  Wait in the sitting 
room.  
I'll go and round them up for you."

************


A little over an hour later, Mulder was 
almost ready to admit defeat.  One after 
the other, the children had been summoned 
into the sitting room to perch opposite 
him on the edge of a large, overstuffed 
leather sofa.

He had questioned them carefully, quietly, 
ever conscious of Julia's hovering presence.  
He had tried hard not to make direct 
references to the Dreamcatcher he held 
in his hand, not wanting to lead them in 
any way.  But even when his 
frustration had gotten the better of him 
and he brought their attention to it, 
all he got in return was a series of 
blank expressions.

Ranging in ages from six to thirteen, the 
half dozen girls he had spoken to were 
charming, polite, precocious.  But of no 
help to him whatsoever.

He rubbed a hand across his face wearily.  
Only one child left.  He wasn't holding 
out much hope that she would be any 
different from the others and he wondered 
briefly whether Scully was having any more 
luck back at the morgue.  She had promised 
to call him as soon as the results were 
back on the tissue samples she had 
collected.  He didn't expect to hear 
from her anytime soon.  Even with all 
the might and fury of the FBI behind her,
it was unlikely she would be able to 
get the wheels turning in her favor 
much before mid-afternoon at the 
earliest.

*Mid-afternoon*.

Christ.  Another wasted day.

One child dead, another two unaccounted 
for, and he and Scully were no closer to 
even beginning to explain it.

Frustrated?  Mulder didn't even want to go 
there.

He dropped his hand back down to rest 
loosely in his lap as Julia guided the 
last child in to the room.  She seemed 
younger than any of the others.  Julia's 
hands on her shoulders almost covered 
them completely.  Less self-assured 
than the other girls, she regarded 
him shyly, huge blue eyes peeping out from 
behind a fringe of windswept red curls as 
she scrambled up onto the sofa.

He couldn't help but smile.  She looked 
like a miniature version of Scully.  Or 
how Mulder imagined she looked when she 
was a kid. Of course, Scully probably 
wouldn't be sitting demurely before him.  
She would have been dragged kicking 
and screaming from the garden still 
clutching onto a recently dissected 
worm, tracking mud through the house.

He had no doubts whatsoever that his 
partner had been a tomboy.  You only had 
to look at her today to make that 
particular connection.

The smile still playing across his lips, 
he leaned forward slightly.  "Hi.  My 
name's Mulder. You wanna tell me who 
you are?"

The child before him began to twirl a few 
strands of hair around her fingers, as 
though attempting to make it even curlier, 
regarding him for long moments before 
answering.

"I'm Caitlin Megan Briony Stevens.  I'm 
six and a quarter.  How old are you, 
Mulder?  What's your real name?  Are you 
really called Mulder?"

OK, maybe *shy* had been a slight 
misconception, Mulder decided ruefully
before answering.  "I'm thirty-eight.  My 
full name is Fox William Mulder, but I 
like to be called Mulder."

"Why?  Don't you like your real name?  Fox 
is a nice name.  I like foxes."

Mulder laughed, the irony not lost on him 
that he was answering a hell of a lot more 
questions than he was asking right now.

"No Caitlin, I don't much like my *real* 
name, so everyone just calls me Mulder."

Caitlin sighed theatrically.  "I suppose 
it *is* kind of a stupid name," she 
observed solemnly.  "I mean I like 
horses but I wouldn't want to named 
after one."

"Caitlin!"

Mulder held up a hand in response to 
Julia's rebuke.  He liked this kid 
already.  She reminded him more and more 
of Scully.

"It's OK," he assured her before 
directing his attention back towards the 
child.  "So, Caitlin, may I ask you some 
questions?"

She nodded, noticing the Dreamcatcher for 
the first time.  "Are you going to ask me 
about that?"

Mulder held his breath.  "Do you know what 
it is?"

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes as she 
did so.  "Of *course* I know what it is.  
It's Fliss's..."

Julia stepped up closer, kneeling down so 
she was on a level with the child.  
"Fliss's?  Caitlin honey I don't 
think so..."

Caitlin ignored her and kept her gaze 
riveted on Mulder.  "It's *Fliss's*.  She 
says it keeps us safe from the dark 
place.  She gave it to Lilly when she 
got trapped there."

Mulder's stomach seemed to roll lazily at 
her words. 

<Dreamcatcher.>

Don't lead her, Mulder.  Just let it 
happen.

"Dark place?  Where's the dark place?  
Have you been there?"

The room was silent, the atmosphere 
almost crackling with the kind of 
anticipation he had come to recognize when 
he was on the verge of breaking through a 
difficult case.  So many pieces falling 
together at once, jostling for position in 
his sharp mind. Leading him.  *Telling* him 
where to go.

And he watched transfixed as Caitlin 
bestowed a dazzling smile on him.

"Of course.  We *all* have.  Only most 
times it's nice.  There are flowers there.  
It's pretty.  I don't remember it 
much...only when it goes dark..."

The smile died on her face. As quickly as 
it appeared it vanished, dark storm clouds 
covering the sunshine of her pretty 
features and she scowled suddenly.

"...then I *always* remember...*

Continued chapter 11