Chapter 21 Dreamcatcher. May 6th 1999. Time unknown Scully recoiled as the child's words sunk in, subconsciously taking a step back as though to distance herself from her. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean..are you telling me that you *killed* your own Father?" Felicia nodded miserably. "Yes." She whispered. "But I didn't mean to do it. I didn't." Scully shook her head "Then how?..." "There was a fire. We were here in the Dreamcatcher. My father was burned. He couldn't get out." Scully glanced around, fearful suddenly as she narrowed her eyes. What was that she heard far in the distance? A sound that she wondered was as a result of her own imagination. The crackling, spitting sound of wood and fire. And with it, just the faintest odour of hickory scented smoke seemed to swirl around her senses for a second. But there *was* no smoke. As far as the eye could see the woods were quiet. Undisturbed. She sighed heavily and turned her attention back to Felicia. "There was a fire? How did it start?" "I don't know. They never told me." "Who never told you?" Felicia frowned. "The police, of course. I tried to find out but I guess they didn't want me to know." Scully wiped the perspiration from her eyes as she regarded the child before her quizzically. She was hot, she was tired, she was hungry and right now she had not the slightest inkling as to what Felicia was trying to say. "The Police were *here*?" she queried uncertainly, stepping away from Felicia as the child's face once again contorted in to an expression of sheer rage. She opened her mouth in an attempt to find some way to soothe the girl but Felicia beat her to it. Her tone was ugly. Belligerent. Frustrated. "No! Why don't you listen! No one ever listens and soon it'll be too late! It didn't happen *here.*" Scully folded her arms over her chest, aware for the first time not only of the chill that had invaded the air around her but also of the storm clouds that were gathering far in the distance. Rolling and boiling they almost matched the expression on Felicia's face and it suddenly struck her that the last time this child had got angry the world around them had suddenly become dark. "Okay, Felicia. I'm listening. I'm right here and I have nowhere else to go. Where did it happen?" The child's face once more relaxed slightly and to Scully's amazement, the breeze around her once again warmed perceptibly, playing with the errant strands of her hair which tickled her face pleasantly. Felicia pulled on Scully's hand as she began to sit on the soft cushion of grass. Scully resisted for a beat before allowing herself to be dragged down. They faced each other. Scully with her arms clasped around her knees, Felicia cross-legged with all the easy agility of a twelve year old. She was regarding the older woman thoughtfully, as though trying to decide whether to share a secret with her. "What?" Felicia shrugged. "I didn't think you would be the one. I mean I thought it would be your partner who would be here. That he would be the one." "The one to do what?" Felicia began to pull at the long grass in front of her absentmindedly before turning clear, blue eyes on to Scully. "To save us. But it was you. All the time it was you. There was a fire you see. It started at home when my dad was here with me. He used to bring me here all the time when I was little." She raised a hand and pointed to a mountain far off in the distance. It loomed bluey-grey against the sky, it's peak topped with snow that sparkled in the sunlight. "You see that mountain?" Scully nodded slightly. "Well, my Dad used to take me there. We'd saddle up the horses and ride for miles. It's the most beautiful place. It was all beautiful then. The sea, the meadows, the animals all of it beautiful. My dad said that I would always have this place. That no matter how hard things got I could always come here." Felicia's voice had dropped to just a little above a whisper and Scully had to strain to hear her. "And then I ruined it all. I made it dark." Her eyes once again filled with tears but this time she made no attempt to rid herself of them, just sat and watched them drip steadily on to the ground beneath her and opposite her, Scully reached out and grasped her hand. "How could you ruin it? Because of the fire?" Felicia sniffed, choking back the sobs. "Yes. He hadn't wanted to come here that night. He had work to do he said. He was a scientist. But I wouldn't quit. I kept on and on at him until he agreed." A small smile appeared and then was gone. So fleeting that Scully wasn't sure she'd even seen it at all. "He always said I could wrap him around my little finger. So he came. And while we were here there was a fire back home. I didn't know until it was too late. We were riding the horses and he just...he just...Oh God, he began to burn...but the horse didn't. It just kept on going with him on top. He was screaming..." Scully watched in horror as the child buried her face in her palms, shaking with the force of her sobs, her words almost lost as she struggled to breathe through the pain. "He was screaming my name...but I couldn't reach him. I couldn't save him...I tried but I couldn't. I felt myself being taken away, back to the house, back to my bed and when I got there it was so dark. I couldn't breathe but I could *still* hear him screaming in my head. I tired to get back to him. I tired so hard, but the smoke was too much and I think I passed out. When I woke up it was too late." "Too late?" Scully swallowed. "Too late for what?" Felicia shrugged. "Too late for me to get him out of here. He died you see. But only on the outside." She finally dropped her hands away from her eyes and Scully watched carefully until the child was able to continue. "Don't you understand yet? He died out there. But here he's still alive. He's trapped here for ever. *I* trapped him here. It's all my fault and he hates me for it." "No...Felicia that's not..." Felicia pounded the ground with her fist. "Yes, it is! He hates me now. That's why he does the things he does. I thought if I brought my friends here it would make him happy...but it didn't. They just scream and scream when they first see him and that makes him so angry." Scully shivered. That breeze again. Gathering storm clouds in the distance. The scent of burning wood. The scent of death. "Why have you brought *me* here?" The child's next words chilled her to her very core, not just for their content but also in the way they were delivered. Scully would swear that for a moment, the child's very soul deserted her body. As though the horror had bled her of every Human emotion possible. "Because I want you to kill him for me. I want you to stop him before he hurts someone else. Before he hurts *you*. And then once more, the darkness came. ********* Eeazy sleep Motel. May 6th 1999. 9:12p.m. "So what do you want me to do?" Skinner regarded the man before him as Mulder removed his weapon, checking the magazine as he did so. Satisfied, he replaced the gun in to the holster that he had earlier secured to his right side. Skinner's eyes had widened slightly a few minutes before as Mulder had performed a similar check on a smaller weapon that magically appeared from a leather casing that was wrapped around his ankle. He was damn sure it wasn't FBI issue but he had let it pass for the moment. He still didn't really understand what Mulder hoped to achieve with all this. What his exact plan - if one could call it that - was. Mulder had showered and changed. Picked at the take-out meal that Skinner had grabbed for them both and then had simply sat, staring in to space for what had seemed like hours. The air between them was charged with electricity and neither man had spoken during the wait. It had almost seemed to him that Mulder was actually trying to relax. That in the midst of all this madness he was attempting to clear his head. Until finally, he had risen from his position on the bed and began to check that his weapons were in place and ready for use. "Mulder?" Mulder dropped back on to the bed, crossing his arms behind his head as he regarded his superior through narrowed eyes. "I want you to watch over me as I sleep..." "What? Mulder, what.." "I mean it. Don't question it just do it. The first sign that I'm in trouble you wake me up. You wake me up using whatever means you deem necessary." Skinner shook his head as he recalled his earlier 'Nightmare on Elm Street' jibe and wondered for a minute if he had truly fallen in to the alternate universe that was Mulder's mind. What he was suggesting bordered on the idiotic and it took a few seconds for Mulder's words to sink in. "You mean you're going to *sleep*? Now?" Mulder shook his head. "No. I'm going to get Scully." "Okay, now you've lost me. You're going to get Scully *how* exactly? By sleeping? That's crazy." "Probably" Mulder laughed, the sound totally without mirth. "I might be wrong. I might fall asleep and dream the dreams of the innocent. But then again I might not. That's why I need you here." "To wake you up?" Mulder smiled softly as he closed his eyes. "No. To bring me back." Continued chapter 22 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:41 2001 Date: 16 Mar 2001 19:30:32 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 22/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue. Dreamcatcher 22 Dreamcatcher May 6th 1999 Time unknown. Scully stood before Felicia, hands on hips and the irony didn't escape her that this was the exact same stance she used when trying to explain to Mulder just *why* they shouldn't be embarking on whatever outlandish journey he happened to have in mind for the day. She was aware of the child's earnest fact staring back at her and in this light, the coming of the night as dusk lay all around them she was struck once again by how delicate this girl was. The white blonde hair lay softly on her narrow shoulders, contrasting pleasantly with the battered denim shirt she wore and in the peculiar half light her skin seemed all the whiter, translucent even. But it was her eyes that really struck Scully as being remarkable. It wasn't just the color. After all, blue eyes were blue eyes and she herself had been blessed with them, but Felicia's eyes reminded her of Mulder's. Chameleon eyes that seemed to change their color at will. At one point, right in the beginning, her partner's eyes had unnerved her as they changed color a hundred times a day depending on his moods, moods which were both complex and unfathomable. Until that wonderful day when she was able to read him just by looking in to his eyes. The day that she was able to take a tiny glimpse in to the soul of this most complex of men. Mulder could hide his emotions skilfully. It was one of the most irritating aspects of his personality. He could keep his expressions firmly in check, allowing those around him to see only what he wished them to see. But like most people he had his own Achilles heel to contend with, because no matter how hard he tried he couldn't hide *everything*. At least not from those he loved. Scully had realised a long time ago that what he felt for her transcended mere friendship. That the bonds that bound them together were unbreakable, irrevocably tied together by the events they had experienced. Together for all eternity unless the unspeakable were allowed to happen. The prospect scared Scully more than she was prepared to admit, but lately, in the dark of the night she had lain in bed, staring at the patterns that the moonlight threw across the room and wondered just how she would go on should something happen to him. That he be taken away from her never to return. That he would die. That she would never again be allowed a glimpse at those beautiful, complex eyes that displayed a myriad of emotions. The she would never be allowed to really *see* him again. Lost in her thoughts, Scully hardly noticed Felicia's expression harden, didn't notice that the child had clenched her hands in to fists that hung rigidly by her side. But her voice wasn't so easy to ignore. It hit Scully with the force of a bullet. "Stop it!" Scully looked around, mystified by this sudden outburst. "Stop what?" Felicia grabbed at her hand, digging her short nails in to Scully's skin just hard enough for her to cry out as the almost forgotten pain of the scalded flesh flared up once again in response to the assault. "Stop thinking about *him*." Scully snatched her hand away from Felicia's. Trying not to flinch as the violent action caused the healing flesh to open up again. She felt a wetness on her skin and realised that she had damaged it even more than it already was and a split second later the area began to burn as the burst blisters came in to contact with the cooling air around them. Scully's mouth dropped open as the realisation struck her. "Before.....when I was in the other place, the place by the sea he came. He came because I was *thinking* about him. I *brought* him here with my thoughts didn't I?" Felicia slammed her hands over her ears and backed away as all around her the wind began to blow, harder, with a ferocity that chilled Scully to the bone. It cut through the thin material of her flannel pyjamas that moulded themselves around her like a second skin. And yet the child before her seemed untouched by the force of the wind. It didn't seem to touch her as she raised her face heavenwards, screaming in to the skies, her voice turned hard, unforgiving with a ferocity that matched the elements around them. "No! I won't let him take you away. I won't!" She lunged forwards, catching hold of Scully's arm even as the wind began to scream around her and suddenly Scully was aware of nothing other than a deep, wracking pain that seemed to take over her whole existence. She had known pain before of course both physical and emotional but this was different. This was a pain that seemed to rip her apart until nothing else existed. The thought was fleeting, replaced almost immediately by a feeling of hopelessness. A knowledge that her will was not her own anymore, that nothing she could do would change the situation here. Because she didn't hold any of the cards here. *Felicia* did. Inside of her she felt something irrevocably and viciously break free and with the last vestiges of awareness leaving her conscious mind, Scully drew upon all her strength to open her mouth and scream his name. Screaming out to Mulder. Praying that where ever he was right now he would hear her. That he would find her once again. An image of him visited the recesses of her mind as she finally succumbed to the pain. A pain which sent his face tumbling from her head, replacing it with a dark nothingness as she crumpled to the ground. Dreamcatcher May 6th 1999 Time unknown. Mulder was aware of the sound of Skinner's breathing. The sound was comforting, regular, reminding him that he was still in the real world. But with the comfort came a resignation that this wasn't working. That despite himself he hadn't yet managed to fall asleep. He was still aware of the soft mattress beneath him. Of the weight of the thin blanket that he had covered himself loosely with. He had tried to will himself to relax. To fall in to the slumber he needed in order to find her. To lose her now was unthinkable. To let her go with no explanation, with no knowledge of how to bring her back to him. After everything they had been through together to lose her this way filled him with horror. He remembered once, not so long ago when he had implored her not to leave him. To not walk away from everything they had fought so hard for. To stay by his side as she had always done. He had opened his heart to her in a way he had once imagined was an impossibility. He had stood in the dingy hallway of his apartment building, seen the hopelessness of the situation reflected in her eyes and *begged* her like he had never begged anyone in his life before. Because he had finally realised that if she walked away he was *nothing* anymore. Such a sweet moment in their lives together when she had walked back toward him, raising her arms to cup his face in her hands as she pulled him towards her. Telling him without speaking, everything he needed to know. Promising him with her eyes that she would be with him for eternity. Eternity had been so very short that day. Scant minutes before she had been taken from him once again. Leaving him alone to battle those who had taken her. Far across the oceans. They were meant to die that day. Mulder had known that they would expect him to go after her. That doing so would cost the both of them their lives. But, against all the odds they had once again prevailed, picked up the shattered remnants of their lives and once again carried on. They hadn't spoken again of that shared moment in his hallway where they finally came together, allowing themselves to answer a need that had burned inside of them for so long, but Mulder knew that it would always be there. Simmering beneath the surface every moment of every day for the rest of their lives. And then he heard it, faint at first, far in the distance. Her voice screaming his name. Seemingly coming from inside his head the sound grew ever louder until it blocked everything out and he shuddered involuntarily as just for a second he felt her pain. It invaded his very core, taking his breath away with it's ferocity, sending him spiraling downwards, falling through nothingness. Unable to breath as the fall stole the very air around him. And all the while her screaming grew louder. Surrounding him completely. And he surrendered to it. Willingly he allowed himself to go to her. ********** Mulder had no idea as to how much time had passed. Had no concept even of what time *was* anymore. He had hit the ground hard, coming to rest in a heap as the sun beat down upon his head, warming his aching bones pleasantly. The instinct to remain asleep was a strong one inside of him as he hovered somewhere between sleep and wakefulness but other thoughts were beginning to push at him that were getting stronger all the time as they clamoured to be heard. He groaned softly in response to the name, shaking his head slightly in an effort to clear it. He was aware of a warm stickiness around the area of his temple and without opening his eyes he gingerly brought his hand from beneath his body to trace a path to the source of the pain. The second his probing fingers made contact with the deep, open wound a thousand pinpricks of light assailed his senses, exploding in pain as he was finally dragged in to full wakefulness. His eyes snapped open and he swallowed down the acidic bile that had risen in his throat in response to the sudden shift in equilibrium. He shook his head again and was finally rewarded as his eyes began to focus, allowing him to regain a measure of control and with it came the strength to raise himself up on one elbow. Almost immediately his gaze settled in a small group of grey rocks that protruded from the grass on which he lay. One of the rocks, the smaller of the group, was smeared with fresh blood. *His* blood and he realised that he must have struck his head as he landed. "Great." He muttered as he realised by taking in his surroundings that the meadow in which he lay was, aside from the cluster of rocks, as smooth and unblemished as that of the surface of a billiard table. Except...far in the distance, almost discernible against the short grass a flash of emerald green. Low to the ground. Unmoving. Ignoring the pain, Mulder sprang to his feet in one fluid movement and began to trot towards it. He tried to push himself to run, but his limbs didn't seem to want to co-operate and he had to be content with the peculiar limping gait he seemed capable of. Despite this though he covered the ground remarkably quickly and even before he reached her he knew that it was her. Lying before him on the ground, face upturned to the blue sky. Her face was pale, a bruise at her hairline the only color that graced her skin, her slightly parted lips an unnatural greyish blue and as Mulder skidded to a halt, dropping to his knees beside her the world seemed to tilt on it's axis as the unthinkable slammed in to his brain. His throat constricted with the thought, driving all the breath from his body, but he forced himself to concentrate. To fall apart now wasn't an option. He pinched her wrist between thumb and forefinger and his eyes slammed shut in gratitude as he felt for her pulse, finding to be strong and regular against her skin. Now that he was calmer he was aware of her chest rising and falling evenly as she breathed. He was unsure though as to whether she was unconscious or asleep. The bruise beneath her hair was a nasty one and unwilling to injure her further, Mulder resisted the temptation to simply gather her in his arms and instead gently touched a finger to her cheek. It didn't make any sense. The world around them was warm. Stifling even and Mulder could feel the perspiration running down his back beneath the T-shirt he wore, plastering the thin material to his body. He increased the pressure slightly, breathing her name as he did so. "Scully?" Nothing. No response. "Scully?" Louder this time and he was rewarded as her eyelids began to flutter in response to the sound of his voice, even more so when her tongue snaked out to wet her dry lips as she struggled to form the words. "Muh...Mulder?" Her voice was thick, slurred even, but to Mulder it was the most wonderful sound imaginable and his throat constricted as she finally forced her eyes open, immediately squinting against the bright light, she tried to turn her head towards him but cried out as the pain returned once again. It was a sound that almost tore Mulder in two. A weak mewling cry like that of a kitten removed from it's mother. He gathered her in his arms, gently for fear of hurting her more and closed his eyes as she lifted her arms and clung to him, breathing in the scent that despite everything was still, unmistakably Scully. "Ssssshhhh it's okay. Don't try to speak. Everything's going to be okay." He felt rather than saw her nod her head slightly, felt her relax against him. "I'm so tired, Mulder." Her voice seemed to come from far away as his temple began to throb once again. The pain now creeping back up to the surface as the adrenaline he had needed to get to her began to recede and he struggled to keep his eyes open, terrified that if he should close them she would no longer be there when he opened them again. But even as he experienced the thought he began to lose the battle with consciousness. Her voice was replaced by a buzzing inside his head as his grip on her loosened, falling back with her against him, he lost consciousness. Eeazy Sleep Motel May 7th 1999 6:01a.m. Skinner tilted his head back as he attempted to rid himself of the kinks that sitting motionless in a chair all night had caused. He had spent the night with his eyes fixed on Mulder as he slept in the bed before him, searching for any signs that the younger man might be restless. There had been none. Mulder had slept the sleep of the dead. Hardly moving, his eyes had never flickered. So much for his theories. As Skinner had feared, this whole charade had come to nothing and it seemed to him that the only person to come out of this ahead had been Mulder. At least *he'd* managed to get some rest. It had been a long time since Skinner had pulled an all-nighter and he had to admit that he wasn't as young as he used to be. All night vigils were for those with the advantage of youthful energy...or in Mulder's case, single- minded determination. He'd known the younger man to forgo sleep for days when in the grip of a difficult case and it never ceased to amaze him just how he managed to stay so focused. Without a doubt, Mulder was *the* best Agent Skinner had ever had the pleasure of working with. The man's mind was unfathomable at times in it's complexity and he envied the way he was able to make great instinctive leaps that were able to take him exactly where he needed to be. Skinner had no doubts that had Mulder chosen a different path he might have been the finest criminal profiler the FBI had ever known. But he hadn't. He had chosen to pursue the X-Files. Some said it was a waste of his extraordinary talent. That he should be brought back in to the conventional fabric of the FBI. Or at least they used to. Now no one seemed to particularly care one way or another. Mulder had become an embarrassment. A joke. His ability was wasted on them know and Skinner knew that they were just looking for an excuse to end his career for good. To rid themselves of this man who had stepped beyond the boundaries of Bureau protocol just once too often during the past five years. Lost in thought, Skinner didn't notice the subtle shift in Mulder's position on the bed. The way his body curled slightly in a protective gesture as his hands were drawn together, didn't notice the thin blanket as it seemed to take on a life of it's own. The changes happened in much less than a single second. Happened almost too quickly for the naked eye to capture and when Skinner was questioned later he would be unable to provide a satisfactory answer as to how the body on the bed inexplicably became two. Skinner shot to his feet, unable to reconcile what he now saw, for on the bed before him lay two people. Mulder's body spooned protectively around Scully. The fact that they resembled spent lovers wasn't lost on Skinner, but he had no time to even process the thought as he crossed the room to get closer to them. The first thing he saw was the blood, pooling from a deep cut at Mulder's temple it dripped down his face to fall unchecked on to the snowy white sheets beneath, like a blossoming rose it grew and grew against the material. Skinner dropped to his knees and grasped Mulder's shoulder. "Mulder?" He began to shake as he felt for signs of life in both his Agents. The fact that Scully had simply *appeared* before him was, for the moment at least, lost on him as his training kicked in with a vengeance. Mulder's pulse was strong at least. The head wound was nasty but unlikely to be life threatening. He turned his attention to Scully, struck for the first time by how pale she appeared to be. Her skin when he felt it was cold. Frowning, he dropped her wrist abruptly, turning his attention to her neck as his fingers probed along her jaw line. No pulse. Nothing. "Shit!" With one hand he groped for the cel phone stored inside his jacket pocket, punching out the numbers even as his other hand began pulling at the buttons that held Scully's pyjama top against her body. His call was answered almost immediately. "911. Which service do you require?" "This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI. Badge number JTZ 0179-324. I need an ambulance now. I have two Agents down." The woman on the other end of the phone was calm, professional, detached, seemingly unimpressed by Skinner's position of authority as she took down the Motel's address. "I have an ambulance dispatched to that address, Sir. Can you confirm current status of the injuries?" Skinner closed his eyes, swallowing heavily. "One male, unconscious. One female with no pulse or respiration." "Have you commenced CPR Sir?" "I'm about to." Skinner cut off the call, throwing the phone carelessly on to the floor as he once again fell to his knees beside Scully, unheeding of any possible injuries as he dragged her from the bed and on the floor before him. And even without realising it, as he pinched his fingers to her nose, bringing his mouth to cover hers, Walter Skinner began to pray. Continued chapter 23 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:41 2001 Date: 17 Mar 2001 15:41:23 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 23/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue Dreamcatcher 23 St Mary's Hospital. Cleveland Ohio. May 7th 1999 11:01p.m. Something was different. Even as Mulder struggled to regain his senses he knew. For one thing he could hear voices, vague and distorted but voices nonetheless, surrounding him as they melded together. The words not yet discernible they just buzzed irritatingly inside his head, constant, impossible to ignore. He was aware of the heavy sheets that weighted down his aching body, starched clean sheets that in normal circumstances might have been comforting but that now seemed constricting. Binding even. And, as he came further towards the surface, something else struck him. The *smell* here was all wrong. A strong scent of antiseptic and cleaning fluid. An unmistakable scent. The scent of medicines. Of hospitals. Absurdly pleased that he had been able to make the connection, Mulder attempted to open his eyes. But the heaviness persisted, dragging him down. Refusing to free him. It wasn't time yet. He knew that. So despite himself he allowed himself to drift once again, to block out the voices that seemed closer suddenly. More familiar as they whispered his name. But the one voice that might have prompted him to throw off the chains that bound him in unconsciousness was Scully's. And she wasn't among them. ********** He was unsure as to how much time had passed when the voices returned. But they seemed clearer. He was able to separate one from the other. Could hear them clearly beside him. One in particular was becoming increasingly familiar. "He's coming out of it." It was enough to prompt him to ease his eyes open, surprised suddenly by the pain that accompanied the action. His whole head ached. From his jaw line to his crown it was encompassed in an all consuming hurt that made the images before him swirl together in a blurring mass as he fought to hold on to consciousness. The effort became almost too much as his hands found their way to the stainless steel tubular bars that were attached to the side of the bed. Their use in the main to prevent the patient from falling, but now Mulder curled his fingers around them as he pulled himself to the side, turning his head as a wave of nausea overtook him. The room tilted crazily, reminding him of long forgotten fairground rides from his childhood. Back then it had been fun. Nothing fun about it now though as the nausea gave way to painful retching, each action threatening to tear his already aching head apart with the violence of the spasms. Under normal circumstances Mulder might have felt embarrassed by the fact that he was puking like a kid who had overindulged in cheap vino, especially in front of his superior Agent, but right now it didn't even cross his mind. Because right now he just wanted it to stop. A hand on his shoulder, reassuringly solid. "Take it easy, Mulder, it's okay." And then that same voice, hardening with authority as he shouted to some unseen presence in the room. "Get a Doctor in here right now." Mulder's hand left it's position on the bars, groping the air, trying to connect with Skinner, who for some reason seemed to be wavering back and forth in front of him. Eventually he gave up and dropped his head back on to the comforting softness of the pillow again, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain. His voice, when it came sounded alien even to him. "Scully...where is she?" He didn't hear Skinner's answer. Barely even acknowledged the fact that the words had left his mouth before the room once more began to spin sickeningly. Before the sounds around him were replaced with the buzzing as everything went dark again. The next time he awoke there were no voices. Just softly muted sounds that suggested to him that it was night. He'd spent enough time in hospitals to know that the sounds never really *ceased*. They simply became quieter in deference to the hour as voices were lowered to hushed whispers and the only sounds to shatter the silence were those of patients crying out in the night or of the occasional muted footsteps that passed by on the corridors beyond. Mulder kept his eyes closed, breathing evenly until he felt it was time to attempt to open them again. When he did he felt dizzy, out of himself somehow, as though his head had been stuffed with cotton wool. But that was okay because it blocked out the pain he had experienced earlier. His hand ached and he gingerly brought it up so that it was in his field of vision, realising that the source of the ache belonged to a plastic IV tube that snaked in to the back of his hand and around his wrist to carry on upwards. He followed the tubing with his eyes until he discovered it's source. A plastic bag of clear fluid that he guessed was probably a combination of saline and pain relief. Morphine maybe. That would certainly account for the heavy feeling he was experiencing. He discovered that keeping his hand aloft was just too much effort and he allowed it to drop, catching the IV line as he did so. Pain flared briefly around the area and he groaned involuntarily. Before he had even finished, the voice reached him. "Mulder?" Almost simultaneously Skinner's face appeared beside him, concerned, relieved and so damn tired looking. "How are you feeling?" Mulder shrugged. "How do I look?" "The truth?" Skinner tipped his head on one side as he regarded the younger man beside him. "You look like shit." Mulder shrugged, wincing as he did so. "There's your answer then." His eyes narrowed as he allowed his gaze to scan his surroundings. "Where's Scully?" Skinner swallowed heavily, wanting to put off the inevitable but knowing that it would be like trying to hold back the wind. Mulder had a right to know. He *needed* to know. But that didn't make it any easier. For the last few hours he had divided his time unevenly between his two agents, spending the majority of time at Mulder's bedside. Understanding the futility of remaining with Scully while she was in her present condition. He also realised that no such rationale would prevent Mulder from going to her. During the hours he had spent here Skinner had concocted and discarded a dozen different ways to break the news to Mulder in a way that might prevent him from leaving his bed immediately and heading off to find her. He knew there was no easy answer. That whatever he said, Mulder would do just as he damn well pleased. It was a pattern he had become accustomed to over the years. So instead, he cleared his throat and decided on a direct approach. "She's up in the ICU." Before the words were fully out of his mouth he watched Mulder react in exactly the way he had known he would and he shot out a hand that connected solidly with Mulder's chest to prevent him from sitting up. For a second, Mulder fought against him, but weakness and fatigue eventually won out as he allowed Skinner to push him backwards on to the pillows. "Take it easy." He advised. But he knew Mulder was beyond that. He had that look in his eyes that reminded Skinner of a rabbit caught in the headlights. Frantically seeking a means of escape. A way to get to her. Skinner often found himself wondering lately if there wasn't more to their partnership than mere professionalism. He also knew it was none of his business. Slowly, he removed his hand as Mulder relaxed slightly beneath him. "The ICU?" "Yes." "Why? She was fine.......she was injured but........" His voice trailed off. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded finally. Skinner sighed. "I wish I could tell you. The medical personnel here don't have the first clue. When she....when you...*came back* she wasn't breathing..." "WHAT?!" Mulder pushed himself up again and this time Skinner didn't try to restrain him despite the beads of sweat that formed on his agents' forehead. "What do you mean? She was *fine*." Skinner shook his head. "Well she isn't fine now Mulder. She's on life support and the way things are looking they don't expect..." He cleared his throat, aware of Mulder's stricken expression, hating himself for having to be the one to deliver the news. Seniority sucked sometimes. "They don't expect her to live through the night." Continued chapter 24 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:41 2001 Date: 18 Mar 2001 11:24:15 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 24/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue Dreamcatcher 24 St Mary's Hospital. Cleveland, Ohio May 8th, 1999 6:03a.m. Skinner frowned as he rounded the corridor that led to Scully's room. It had been a long night. Both the emotional and the physical costs had been enormous for them all. Not ten minutes ago he had finally managed to reach Margaret Scully on the telephone after trying to track her down for the better part of yesterday and last night. She had been out of town and apparently not picking up her messages from where ever she was. Finally though, his cel phone had trilled and the FBI dispatcher had patched her through. It has been hard. To break this kind of news to someone face to face was difficult enough. To have to do it long distance was practically impossible. But break the news he had, listening to the labored breathing on the other end of the line as his words had finally sunk in; the sound of Scully's mother as she desperately attempted to hold on to her composure long enough for him to furnish her with the details. He wished with all his heart that he could have downplayed the gravity of the situation in some way. That he could have offered her some thread of hope to cling to as she made the journey here. But much as he wished it might be so, he knew that it was a futile hope. Scully had surprised them all that night as she clung onto life tenaciously. But her vital signs weren't promising. In fact, only an hour previously one of the ICU team had quietly pulled Skinner to one side and gravely informed him that it wouldn't be long. That whatever precarious hold she currently had on life was slipping away. Slowly but surely Scully was dying by degrees. She was now on full life support. Kept alive by machinery until such a time as the medical personnel were directed to cease in their efforts to keep her alive. Without the equipment surrounding her she would die almost immediately. That had been spelled out plainly for Skinner as he attempted to find something, some crumb of hope that she might come out of this. In fact, he was having a hard time reconciling the fact that she was even there at all. He couldn't deny what he had witnessed in Scully's motel room. But neither could he explain it. He couldn't explain how she suddenly appeared before him. He had been questioned at length by the medical personnel, unable to furnish them with the answers they needed. It had been patently obvious that they didn't believe him. He couldn't blame them. He hardly believed it himself. But he had *seen* it and no matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he knew what he had seen to be true. In the blink of an eye, Scully had just been *there*. Just like that, and truthfully, in the following minutes when she was returned, Skinner hadn't had time to really question it, so intent had he been in bringing her back to them. It had been maybe five minutes from the time he placed the call to the emergency services to the time they barreled through the motel room door and swept him out the way. Five minutes that had seemed like years as he breathed for Scully. Five minutes that stretched into eternity. Five minutes of switching to autopilot as he performed chest compressions, muttering encouragement to her through clenched teeth. Five minutes in his life that he had no doubt would return to haunt him for years to come. But their efforts had, in some small way at least, been rewarded. They had spent almost an hour attempting to stabilize her before loading her into the depths of the ambulance along with an unconscious Mulder. They had been rewarded by the faintest, flickering pulse that fluttered feebly beneath their fingertips like a dying butterfly. The tiniest spark of life. Of hope. Skinner had insisted on riding in the ambulance with them. The harried EMTs hadn't argued. Time was of the essence and they hadn't wanted to waste any by engaging in fruitless discussion with this man. All of their energies were focused on Scully. On keeping her alive until they could get her to the hospital. Twice they had almost lost her. Twice they had brought her back. And all the while, Mulder lay not two feet away from her, deeply unconscious and oblivious to the drama that was being played out beside him. For that at least, Skinner was thankful. He was thankful that the man had been spared the horror of watching his partner slipping away from him. Of watching an undignified death in that tiny cramped space as the EMTs did their work. Detached, professional, devoid of emotion, they viewed Scully as just another victim. A victim it was their job to save. Nothing more, nothing less. But they had performed their roles admirably and wheeled her into the ER, screaming instructions at the group of white-coated medical personnel who were hovering around the entrance in response to their earlier call. They had brought her back to life. A strange version of life, true. But life nonetheless. Their job done, they had departed silently. Skinner hadn't even had time to thank them. Since then, each hour that passed had seemed to merge and meld into the other. He had divided his time as best he could between staring numbly down at Scully as she lay, naked beneath a single sheet in the ICU, and sitting by Mulder's bedside staring equally numbly as he wondered how the hell he was going to tell him about his partner's condition. But that had been hours ago. Mulder had awoken and the second the realization had sunk in, he had done exactly as Skinner had expected him to. Despite the protests of the medical staff, the younger man had heaved himself from his bed, ripping out the canular as he did so, ignoring the blood that dripped from his hand in a steady stream of red droplets, and demanded to be reunited with his clothes. The doctor had been summoned to try to talk some sense into him and had been rewarded by the charming profile of Mulder's clenched jaw as he completely ignored him. It was, Skinner noted, like trying to hold back the wind itself. Because regardless of how it may endanger his own health, there was nothing, *nothing* on this earth that would keep Mulder from his partner. Eventually they had all realized the futility of their efforts and with much shrugging of shoulders had left him alone with Skinner to sign the necessary disclaimers and get dressed. Skinner hadn't bothered to offer him any advice. He knew Mulder well enough to know that it would be neither appreciated nor acted upon. He had followed Mulder to the ICU and been there to offer a steadying hand as Mulder caught the first glimpse of his partner. Even Skinner had to admit that it was a shocking sight. Scully lay there with what seemed like a hundred tubes attached to her body, unmoving, unresponsive. They hadn't even bothered to dim the lights around her bed, and the harsh glare had made her appear even more pale than she actually was. In fact, if Skinner were honest with himself, she looked like she was dead already. A corpse beneath that plain, blue cotton sheet. Kept alive until someone came along and pulled the plug. He had watched as Mulder sucked in his breath at the sight of her. Stepped forward to offer his assistance as the younger man folded before him in a manner that suggested someone had just sucker punched him in the gut. Stepped away again as Mulder angrily shrugged his hand away. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could offer as Mulder stumbled away from him and crossed the small space that separated him from his partner. Skinner watched silently as he extended a shaking hand towards her, his fingers gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over her pallid face. And time seemed to stand still. Long moments passed that would become lost in his memory before Mulder finally lowered his body to the single chair that sat like a sentry beside the bed. Long moments as he stood there watching the younger man slip his fingers beneath Scully's hand, wishing he could offer him something. Anything to ease his pain. But Mulder was oblivious to everything. His every fiber was concentrated on the woman lying before him, and Skinner doubted he would have even heard any words of comfort he may have been able to muster. So he had simply turned away and left them together. But now he had returned only to find Mulder still in that same position. If he had moved at all, Skinner could see no evidence of it. He felt like an interloper, as on some level he always had where these two agents were concerned. Oftentimes he had caught himself wondering about the relationship they shared, wondering just how deep their commitment to each other actually went. One thing he was certain of - they had ceased being merely professional people thrown together in the course of their work a long time ago. What they shared went so much deeper. It was as though each only existed as a part of the other. And most times he envied them. But not now. Right now he thanked God that he wasn't in Mulder's shoes. Being in his own was bad enough. "How is she?" The question was redundant. He already knew what the answer would be. But he needed something to draw Mulder's attention away from her. He needed to look into his face. He needed to understand how Mulder was feeling right now. He immediately wished he hadn't. He wished he hadn't needed to affirm what he already suspected. Mulder's eyes, when they met his, were shockingly blank. Vacant even. All the light that habitually shone from them was extinguished by the long hours he had sat here. His voice when it finally came matched his demeanor perfectly. "The same." Skinner nodded. "Her mother's on the way here." Mulder glanced at Scully then closed his eyes briefly. Skinner would never have believed it possible unless he had actually witnessed it, but it seemed like Mulder's face drained of even more color. He hadn't shaved and the stubble was like a black rash against his skin. As he watched him, Skinner immediately understood. Guilt. It was practically palpable. "Mulder..." He stopped, though, as Mulder once again turned tortured eyes toward him, locking gazes with his superior as he uttered a silent plea. But Skinner heard him. Even without words he heard him. And for once in his life, Skinner just didn't know the answer. He doubted anyone did. ********** Dreamcatcher. May 8th. Time unknown. The first thing Scully saw when she opened her eyes was a face. A small, elfin face framed with a halo of dark hair. It was peering down shyly at her, green eyes questioning even as the tiny, rosebud lips offered the most tremulous of smiles. "I thought you weren't ever going to wake up." She frowned as the child's words reached through the fog that had descended all around her. There was something about the child that was familiar. That face. Those lips. Somewhere in her memory she had seen her before. But where? Scully fought against the tiredness, willing herself into full wakefulness as she gradually became more aware of her surroundings. She was lying on a mattress of fleece. So soft it almost seemed as though it were made of spun silk, cushioning her against the uneven surface of the ground beneath it. A similar, much thinner blanket covered her almost to her chin, and a sudden memory of another time danced fleetingly into her mind only to be gone seconds later. He always covered her with blankets when she was sleeping. She had lost count of the amount of times she had awoken with the soft warmth tucked around her. She wasn't sure when it had started. Possibly back in the days when she still had cancer and Mulder had wanted to do anything to keep her well. But Mulder wasn't here. He had been inexplicably replaced by this child. A little girl who seemed almost ethereal in her beauty. A child Scully had seen somewhere before. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind back. And then it came to her. Like a bolt of lightening the realization slammed into her brain, throwing off all vestiges of sleep as she opened her eyes, scrambling upright she grasped the child's arm. To confirm to herself that she was real. That the child before her was really who she thought it to be. "Gina?" Continued chapter 25 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:41 2001 Date: 19 Mar 2001 14:26:15 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 25/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue Dreamcatcher 25 Dreamcatcher May 8th. Time unknown The child smiled at Scully, a tremulous, hesitant smile which made no attempt to belie the sadness behind her eyes. It was as though this child had seen every horror imaginable, that those sparkling green eyes had witnessed things a child should never have to face. Her skin beneath Scully's touch was soft and smooth. Baby skin almost. Slowly, as though weighing up the question, Gina nodded. "I think that's who I am." Scully frowned. Whatever else she had expected, this wasn't it. "What do you mean, Gina?" She tried to keep her voice gentle, to not frighten this child any more than she already was. Despite that, however, the child's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head from side to side. "I mean, I think I'm me...I'm just not sure anymore." Scully tried to gather her thoughts together enough to make sense of what the child was saying to her. It was hard. She felt as though she had awoken from a very long, very deep sleep. It was difficult to shake off the fatigue. Difficult to concentrate on Gina's words. "I don't understand." She gently tugged on Gina's arm to bring the child down to her level. Maybe then she would begin to open up to her. "Gina, tell me what you mean." She knew this child should be articulate. She knew enough about her background to know she was intelligent, precocious, outgoing. But right now, as the child stared back at her through the tears that now spilled over from her eyes and trickled down her rosy cheeks, Scully could see none of those things. Instead, there was just a little girl. Broken, terrified, hopeless. For long seconds, Gina didn't speak, until finally, she swallowed back the sobs just sufficiently to force the words out. "Sometimes...sometimes I think I'm dead. I wake up and it's all dark and I can't breathe. And that's when I think it." Scully reached out a hand and smoothed Gina's hair away from where it had blown across her face, forcing the child to look at her. "Gina, honey, that's not true." Gina shrugged. "I don't want to believe it. But Fliss says I might be." "*Fliss* says?" Scully's voice was incredulous. "Yes." Gina nodded, her words coming faster now. "She says that sometimes when we're here, that when we think bad thoughts, they can come true. That if I *think* that I might be dead it might come true..." Gina's face crumpled completely then as Scully pulled her into a comforting embrace, rocking the little girl gently against her as her voice rose in a pitiful wail that made Scully's throat close up. "Agent Scully...I don't want to die. I just want to go home." Scully stroked the child's hair gently, feeling the warmth on the palm of her hand as the sun beat down above them, allowing Gina to cry against her, the tears dampening the material of the green flannel pajamas she still wore. "Shhhhh. I know you do, sweetie. I know." Scully closed her eyes, seeing her partner's face behind her lids - an imprint of him that seemed to have been burned on her soul, an image of his face as he was torn away from her, screaming out her name. She wondered fleetingly if she would ever see him again, and then the thought was immediately replaced by the need to comfort this child. She gently disentangled herself from Gina, pushing the child back so that she could once again look into her eyes. "I *know*, Gina and I promise that you will be okay. We both will." But her words sounded hollow. Even as she spoke them she knew it was hopeless. Out there, in the real world, she would have had answers. But here she had none. The fact didn't escape Gina. "No, we won't," she said dully. "Not until she says we can." "Who says?" "Fliss. She's in charge. She always has been. We have to stay until she says we can go back. She...she gets real angry if we try and leave." Scully felt the hairs on the back of her neck inexplicably stand on end as a sudden chill swept over her. Beneath the warmth of the sun, goose flesh broke out on her skin. She could *feel* it. For perhaps the first time she could almost reach out and touch the evil that existed here. And like a jigsaw puzzle the pieces began to slowly fall into place. "Did Elisabeth try to leave before Fliss said it was okay?" She felt Gina tense a split second before she pulled herself out of Scully's grasp, and she could swear she saw the color literally drain from her face as the child stumbled backwards away from her. "Gina?" Gina held out her hands to Scully, a supplicating almost pleading gesture. "Please don't ask me that. We're not supposed to talk about it. Fliss would be angry if she knew." But Scully persevered. "She tried to leave, didn't she? And Fliss didn't want her to?" She watched as Gina dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she began to cry again. She considered comforting the child, but another part of her, the pragmatic part that lurked at the forefront of her personality, recognized that she needed answers. Her voice took on a hint of desperation. "Gina, if you want me to help you, you have to tell me. Did Fliss hurt Elisabeth?" Slowly, so slowly, Gina raised her head, her breath hitching in her chest, reminding Scully of the way she had looked when they had discovered her hiding, terrified, behind that dark armoire. How long ago was that? Scully couldn't be sure. Time held no meaning here. Nothing had meaning except the burning need inside her to find whatever answers she needed to leave this place. "You can't help me," Gina said. "You can't help me 'cuz you don't understand. Fliss...she didn't mean to do it...she was trying to stop her. Lilly was going to tell, you see. Fliss couldn't let that happen, so she tried to stop her...she made her think bad thoughts." Scully rubbed a hand wearily across her brow. This was getting them nowhere. It was like being locked inside the most perplexing conundrum. But he wasn't here. Scully was no longer sure where *here* even was anymore. "Bad thoughts?" she queried uncertainly. Gina nodded. "Nightmares. Do you ever have nightmares, Agent Scully?" "Sometimes," she admitted as the child turned away from her. Even from her position behind her, Scully could see the sudden droop in the girl's shoulders. "Fliss says that nightmares are made up of the things that we are most afraid of. All the things we can't think about when we're awake. She says that's what dreaming is for. To get rid of the bad stuff." "Gina?" The child remained standing with her back to Scully. She made no attempt to turn back to her, but Scully sensed she was listening, ready to answer now. "What was Elisabeth most afraid of?" The question seemed to hang, balanced on the air between them until finally Gina spoke. Her words were so soft that Scully had trouble even hearing them. But it didn't matter. Because she already knew. *Spiders.* Seven-year-old Elisabeth Armstrong, like many little girls her age, had been afraid of spiders. Scully slammed her eyes shut as the bile began to rise in her throat. And when she opened her eyes once more, Gina was gone. ********** St Mary's hospital. Cleveland, Ohio. May 8th, 1999. 7:56p.m. Mulder was all too aware that she was watching him. He could feel her eyes boring into him in much the same way he was able to feel Scully's when she was concerned about him. It wasn't surprising that he should feel this same connection now. And it was comforting somehow. It was as though a piece of Scully was there with him. But he refused to raise his head, to make contact with her. To make contact would be to admit his own fatigue. He might be able to fool Skinner, but Margaret Scully was another matter all together. She had arrived earlier in the day, had stood horror-struck before her daughter's lifeless form, her eyes darting wildly around the room as she fought to hold on to her composure, and he had admired her for it. Had admired her for not breaking down. Like Scully, she would do her crying in private. She was a strong woman. Just like his partner. He had thought for a minute that she hadn't even noticed him there. Sitting quietly holding Scully's hand, he had made no sound. He could hardly bear to look at her, this woman whose daughter had suffered so much at his hand. Who now might die. But she *had* noticed. Had crossed the room and gently laid a hand against the back of his hair. Offering forgiveness even before he had time to open his mouth. Telling him without words that she didn't blame him for this. Just as she had never blamed him for things past. Mulder hadn't wanted to respond, hadn't wanted her to comfort him when he didn't deserve to be comforted, but despite himself, he had turned his head and allowed her to hold him against her as his tears began to flow. They had remained there for a while. Not speaking, just seeking some kind of solace from each other. Until finally, Margaret had asked him the question he had been so afraid of. "What happened, Fox?" He hadn't been able to answer her. Hadn't been able to give her any explanation, and he hated himself for it. The only surprise had been that Margaret Scully didn't hate him too. But she didn't. The very fact that she was not only watching over her daughter, but him as well, only added credence to that fact. He knew he didn't deserve it. "Fox?" It was easy to ignore the fact that she had been watching him, but almost impossible to resist her when she spoke. He lifted his head and faced her. They sat, either side of Scully's bed. Just sat there. Hour after endless hour, hoping for some sign, some tiny movement to suggest that she was still with them. So far, though, their hopes had been in vain. He rubbed a hand across his face, wincing as he inadvertently disturbed the small square of gauze that covered the wound on his temple. Pain flared briefly to be replaced with a dull ache. He knew he was pushing it. And from the look on her face, Margaret knew it too. "You need to rest." He shook his head. "I can rest here." "Fox, please..." She rose to her feet then, moving to stand by his side. He allowed her to drop a hand on his shoulder, feeling his throat tighten at her next words. Words she knew would have the desired effect. "Dana would want you to take care of yourself. At least come with me to get something to eat." Margaret reached across him and gently smoothed a hand across her daughter's arm. "She needs us both now, Fox. She needs us to be here for her. To hope for her. And she needs you to be whole. Can't you see that?" Mulder nodded slowly, tearing his gaze from where his partner lay. And he rose to his feet, dropping a kiss on her brow before he did so. "I'll be back." Continued chapter 26 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 20 Mar 2001 08:56:15 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 26/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue. Dreamcatcher 26 Dreamcatcher. Time and date unknown. For the first time in her life, Scully had become unaware of the passage of time. No longer sure as to which was day and which was night, she simply put all her energies into existing. She could close her eyes, try to sleep, only to have strange dreams catapult her back to reality. Fliss had been right. Nothing here was real. Least of all herself. But the time alone had given her the space she needed to put together the pieces of this place. To know it. To understand it. And in doing so, she had found a kind of peace. This place - the Dreamcatcher - was just as Fliss had told her it was. A combination of one's fondest wishes and darkest nightmares. On several occasions, Scully had bolted upright, still in the grip of whichever horror had chosen to visit her during her troubled sleep. She slept a lot. She dreamed a lot. Sometimes she found herself wondering if this whole thing was a dream from which she was unable to awaken. Some of the dreams had the ability to rip at her heart, to have her wake with Mulder's name on her lips, forced to cope with the crushing disappointment of knowing he wasn't here. Her subconscious mind had been allowed full rein here. It seemed that everywhere she turned, there was a vestige of some dream, some nightmare, lingering before her eyes. Sometimes the landscape was filled with sunshine - light that chased away the darkness of the night. But more often it was dark. Dark enough sometimes to make even seeing her hand in front of her face impossible. Scully had no way of creating light. All she could do was to sit trembling, her knees drawn up against her chest for warmth as she waited for it to pass. Or for sleep to claim her once again. She had lost weight. The flannel pajamas now hung off her slight frame, and that told her better than any clock that she had been here a while. Whether the time could be measured in days, weeks, or months, though, she found herself less sure of. And truthfully, it just didn't seem to matter anymore. For the first time ever, she felt truly alone, even more so when she had awoken, sweating and shaking, from the latest nightmare with the sun beating down upon her tear-streaked face. Different from the rest, it had been frightening in both its clarity and form. Because unlike the other dreams, she had not been aware that she was dreaming. She had become adept at waking herself up before her subconscious took her too far. But not this time. This time she had stood on the periphery of the dream and watched the drama play out to the bitter end. She had seen herself with Mulder. Both of them were searching for something amongst a warehouse full of wooden crates. Scully hadn't know exactly *what* they were looking for. It hadn't seemed important at the time. They were dressed casually, both wearing jeans and shirts, weapons drawn as they scanned the area before them. It had been Mulder who had turned to her and suggested they split up, to quicken their search. To yield whatever results they were hoping to find. Scully hadn't argued. She had simply branched off to the left, ears straining to hear even the tiniest sound that might bring them closer to what they sought. For a while there had been nothing aside from the sound of her partner's retreating footsteps across the building as he sought this invisible, unknown foe. She had taken comfort from the sound of his steps, knowing that he was okay. Until suddenly the steps stopped abruptly A second later she heard a strange scuffling sound as though something or someone were being dragged. She had called out his name, softly at first, and then when no response was forthcoming she had spun around and retraced her steps to where they had last been together, growing ever more frantic as she failed to find him, failed to garner a response from him as she called out to him. And then she had stumbled across him. Literally. Her partner, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. She had tripped when her foot connected with his outstretched arm, falling headlong onto the ground beside him, a scream already building in her throat as she realized the source of the blood. Her gaze had wandered along the length of his body, finally coming to rest on the ragged flesh that protruded from the neck of his T-shirt. A pristine white T- shirt that was now soaked with his blood. His once beautiful, expressive eyes were fixed ahead, his mouth open in an expression of almost comical surprise, as though he couldn't quite believe what had happened to him. And Scully had heard a sound, a high-pitched animal wail, that begin to reverberate around the enclosed space. She had no concept that it might actually be coming from within herself. No concept of anything other than the sight of her partner's decapitated body in front of her. She had awoken to find sunshine streaming down through the trees, and while she was thankful at least that she hadn't awakened in the darkness that now seemed almost constant, the sunshine seemed out of place, almost an aberration. The tears had streamed unchecked down her face as she fought to let go of the images that still assaulted her. Was this what Gina had meant when she told of the Dreamcatcher's power to make one's darkest nightmares into reality? Was this what her darkest nightmare truly was? If Scully were honest with herself she would have to admit one day that the possibility of losing him filled her with an emptiness that even she couldn't fully comprehend. To let go of him now, after everything they had shared, was unthinkable, and the realization that what she had just witnessed had been nothing more than a dream failed to have any impact on her. She was still crying when the voice reached her. "You have to stop crying all the time. It makes him angry." Scully raised her head warily, eyeing the child who had knelt beside her and tried to remember when she had last seen her. But the days had merged into one frightening, confusing chain of events and she found she couldn't. Five years or five minutes. It just didn't seem to matter anymore. She did vaguely recall their last conversation though. That faceless someone whom this child was so afraid of. Scully turned her head away from Fliss, closing her eyes as she did so. "I won't help you. You're wasting your time" Her voice was flat, emotionless. Directed at this child who had taken so much from her and who now came to her for help. Fliss dropped onto her knees beside Scully, her hands grasping at the woman's arm, fingers biting into them cruelly. Scully knew that the fragile flesh would bruise from the impact. She didn't care. "You have to help me." Scully shook her arm free. "No, I don't." She was aware that the child's eyes had filled with tears again, her mouth beginning to quiver as Scully's words registered. Her words when they finally came were suffused with such longing that Scully almost wavered. "But my father..." Almost but not quite. Ignoring her natural instinct as an adult human being to simply take this child into her arms, Scully rounded on her. The ferocity of her words were enough to bring her to her feet, dragging the frightened child with her. "Your father isn't *real*. Don't you understand that? *You* kept him here. You kept him here because you feel responsible for his death. You've kept him here because you can't let him go!" She shouted the words at Fliss's face, no longer mindful of her adult status. All the anger, all the rage came spilling out as she held the child before her, shaking her as she did so, watching her head snap back and forth with the force. It was only the shrieking sound of Felicia's screams that brought her to her senses. "STOP IT!" The child was near hysterical and Scully stepped back, releasing her as she did so. Horrified and ashamed by her actions. "Fliss, I'm sorry..." "Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about." Scully shivered. She could feel the first stirrings of the trees above her, could hear the whisper of the leaves as they began to move gracefully in the wind, growing louder with every second that passed, becoming more violent as the wind gathered in force. She almost didn't hear Fliss's next words as the child turned her face toward her, eyes alarmingly blank, her voice toneless. Defeated. "You don't believe me. No one ever believes me. But now you will. Because he's coming. And you can't stop him." ********** St Mary's Hospital. May 16th, 1999 "I think you should stay." Margaret's hand grasped Mulder's softly in an effort to make him understand. To make him see that if he walked away now he might very well regret it for the rest of his life. This final goodbye to his partner. His best friend. The only one he had ever truly loved. Try as he might to deny all he felt for her daughter, Margaret could see it in his every glance, his every gesture. In every single breath he had breathed during this never-ending week as he had kept a vigil beside her. He had barely slept. Snatching a few minutes here and there before bolting awake once more. It had been painful to watch him. More painful still as she came to realize his vigil had been in vain. That no amount of love was going to bring her daughter back. She had left the room, allowing him the privacy to say his final goodbye. But time was against them. Maybe it had been against them from the start. His goodbye had been so brief. She had returned a scant few minutes later to find him cradling Dana's still form against him, sobbing into her hair as he implored her to please forgive him. The sight of them together had cracked the remaining piece of her heart cleanly in two, because as much as she was suffering, she was aware that Mulder would suffer for the rest of his life. However short that might be. She doubted he would find it in himself to carry on without her, and for a moment she had felt ashamed. Ashamed that she had never fully appreciated all that this man was. It was why Margaret felt it was so important for him to be here now. To be a part of her as she left them. But he was adamant as he turned away from her, unable to face this final hurdle. He had remained so strong throughout all this, through this endless week when they had hoped against hope that the doctors were wrong. But finally they had been forced to confront the finality of the situation. Scully had lain unresponsive to breathe everything around her, unable to for herself, her brain patterns stilling with each passing day as she crept further and further away from them. In life she had been very specific about the course of action that should be taken here. They had to respect that decision. It didn't make it any easier to let her go. But Mulder knew he couldn't be with her for this final journey. He couldn't stand there and watch as the life drained from her, couldn't watch her die. Briefly he tightened his fingers around Margaret's. "I can't." His eyes implored her to understand. To understand that he wasn't strong enough to do this. That no matter what happened he could never bring himself to be there when his partner died. It was the coward's way out. A final escape from all that haunted him inside. But Margaret understood. How could she not? He had just helped her to sign away Dana's life. It had come as a shock to realize that her daughter had listed him as joint next of kin. Even more so when she discovered that even Mulder had been unaware of the fact. Maybe she had been right to do it, though. Maybe Dana had realized that her mother would never have had the strength to do this alone. Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she turned away from the sight of Mulder's retreating back. The priest smiled softly at her, his face suffused in a pious calm that Margaret dearly wished she felt. He gestured that she come closer. To pray with him as the doctors did their final work. "It's time." Margaret nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is." Continued chapter 27 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 21 Mar 2001 02:45:35 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 27/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue Dreamcatcher 27 Dreamcatcher May 16th, 1999. Time unknown. Scully flinched at Felicia's words but stood her ground, grasping the child's thin arms even as she attempted to squirm out of Scully's grasp. The wind swirled around them, reminding Scully of the way the sand had stung her skin when the vortex had risen and swallowed up her partner. Now, however, there was no sand, just the force of the wind as it buffeted them both. It had become noticeably darker, the storm clouds gathering above their heads. Fliss struggled against Scully, eyes wide and terrified, no longer the confident character she had been only moments before. "Let me go! He's coming!" Her screaming plea was almost swallowed by the chaos around them, but Scully didn't falter. It was becoming harder and harder to hold on to the girl, especially one almost as tall as she was, but Scully knew that the only way to end this was to somehow make Felicia confront her demons. She needed to prove to her what she had suspected for what seemed like an endless time. Scully didn't pretend to understand everything that happened in this terrible place, but there was one thing she was certain off - that Fliss's nightmares were no more real than her own. Terror without substance. The product of a mind tortured with a crippling guilt of things past. Beneath her, the child's screams became louder, more frantic. "He's here!" Scully narrowed her stinging eyes against the wind stream, squinting against the gathering darkness in an attempt to see what the child saw. And there was no doubt in her mind that Fliss did indeed *see* something. The horrifying specter of her long dead father had no doubt risen to haunt this child on night after endless night, and from the way the child had become rigid beneath her grip, Scully had no doubt that she saw nothing different now. It was becoming almost impossible to see as the darkness crept upon them, slowly and ruthlessly devouring everything in its path. The wind screamed, making it almost impossible to hear Fliss's cries beneath its force. But nonetheless, Scully did hear her. As clearly as if the child was screaming directly into her ear. "Don't you see him?!" For just a second, Scully could make out a shifting form to her right. A dark, pulsating mass that crept closer, as though waiting for a formal invitation. A face, twisted in a grimace of such fury, such evil, the likes of which Scully had never witnessed before. But then she shifted her glance slightly and the vision was gone. She spun Felicia around so that she was facing the child, shaking her as she did so. "There's *nothing* there! Can't you understand that?!" Fliss's eyes were glassy, uncomprehending as she struggled against Scully, locked in a nightmare world that she had conjured for herself. But deep down inside of her, the words reached her. "You don't see him?" Scully softened her voice slightly. "No, I don't see him." For a second she thought she had won, thought that the child beneath her was ready to accept the truth. She loosened her hold slightly, realizing her mistake immediately as Fliss twisted away from her. The tears still streamed down the child's face, an expression of such agony that Scully could feel her own throat begin to tighten. She took a hesitant step toward the child, swallowing as she did so. "Fliss..." "NO! NO! NO! Leave me alone!" The child slammed her hands over here ears, and Scully was unsure for a moment whether the frantic plea was directed at her or at whatever this child could now see. Fliss's next words, though, confirmed her fears. "He's real. HE IS! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE HIM?" Scully shook her head, taking another step, holding her arms out in a placating gesture. But a sudden blinding flash of light stopped her in her tracks. Behind the light came a familiar voice that called out to her, hard to decipher as the sobbing grew louder. And suddenly she could see her. Could see *herself*, lying silent and still in a hospital bed, as her mother hovered over her. Scully watched as her mother brushed a strand of hair from where it lay against her cheek. There were other figures clustered around the scene, but Scully had to narrow her eyes in order to see them. Doctors. Two or three of them. All talking softly as they did their work. One of them, the older of the three, seemed to be concentrating on an area around her face. Scully swallowed and took a step closer, heart hammering in her chest. Every fiber of her being screamed out to her that this was different somehow. That it wasn't a nightmare. Clamping down on the thought, she continued to watch the scene unfold before her, hovering on the periphery like a spectator on her own life. And then she realized. A blinding realization that caused her heart to cease its relentless beat for long seconds. The older doctor turned to Margaret and raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Scully watched as her mother closed her eyes. Nodding affirmation to whatever unspoken question had just been asked. With the realization came pain. Scully stumbled backward as the scene before her became fuzzy around the edges, like a bad television picture that has lost reception for a minute. A searing pain in her chest drove the breath from her body, making breathing an impossibility. Even as she began to fall, losing her hold on consciousness, Scully realized, finally, the reason why Mulder hadn't tried to find her. ********** St Mary's Hospital. May 16th, 1999 "She looks so peaceful." Margaret Scully spoke softly, not wishing to disturb the silence that now surrounded them, but needing to say something, anything to once more receive confirmation that this was real. Mulder raised weary eyes toward the older woman, a ghost of a smile flittering across his lips for just a second before settling them back to his partner. "Yes, she does." It was impossible. He knew that. Despite all he had seen, all he had experienced before, he knew that what they now viewed was a medical impossibility. The fact that Scully was still with them defied all explanation. The fact that she was breathing independently when all the medical personnel had told him time and again that such a thing wasn't possible made no kind of rational sense. But Mulder would take it. As he had sat in the hallway, waiting for Margaret Scully to emerge, he had clasped his hands together and prayed for the first time in years. Long-forgotten prayers from his childhood, stolen from a time when he still *believed.* Whispered words. Desperate words. Words he had no right to even utter. Mulder knew he had no right to ask Him for anything, so long had it been since he had even acknowledged His existence. But for Scully he had prayed, imploring whatever higher power might be listening to please not take her away from him. Not like that. Never like that. And somehow, somewhere his words had been heard. She was still with them. And as Mulder increased the pressure on her hand, he prayed that wherever she was, that she would know he was there with her. continued Chapter 28 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 21 Mar 2001 02:51:44 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 28/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue Dreamcatcher 28 Dreamcatcher. May 16th, 1999. Time unknown. "Wake up! Please wake up!" Felicia dropped to her knees beside the still form of the woman who had only seconds earlier been standing before her. She had watched as Scully's eyes had become alarmingly blank, fixed ahead on a scene that Fliss had been unable to either recognize or understand. At first she had felt a certain amount of smugness. Smugness in that Scully was finally seeing all that she, Fliss, did. But this had rapidly become replaced with a numbing horror as she watched the woman pitch forward onto the grass beneath. Initially she hadn't wanted to approach her, so sure was she that Scully was dead. But slowly, against her will almost, Fliss had drifted toward her. Tears of relief had sprung to her eyes when she realized that Scully was alive. It was difficult to see, the rise and fall of her chest was so slight that it barely seemed to be moving at all. Tentatively, Fliss reached out a hand and rested it on Scully's face. "Please wake up," she whispered, more tears falling as her words went unheeded. She barely noticed the figure who had followed her over. Barely acknowledged him as he stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder. The figure stood there, silent. Not speaking as Felicia turned tortured eyes upon him. "Please...please tell me how to help her." The figure didn't speak aloud. He didn't need to. Words weren't necessary here. They never had been. ********* St Mary's Hospital. Cleveland, Ohio. May 17th, 1999. 12:02p.m. "How's she doing?" Skinner inclined his head toward Scully's unconscious form, then shifted his gaze back to Margaret. "The same." She kept her voice low. Not in deference to her daughter so much as for the man beside her. Skinner nodded. "And him?" Margaret shrugged, glancing where Mulder sat, half on one of the stiff, uncomfortable chairs and half on Scully's bed. Eyes closed, his head rested on one folded arm, the other still covered Scully's fingers loosely. She doubted he could manage to get any closer if he were to abandon the chair altogether and climb up there on the bed with her. The image made her smile softly. "You know, he hasn't slept? Not once since I arrived here." Margaret's voice held a yearning, wistful quality that Skinner had never heard before. "He's cat napped, sure. But this is the first time he's slept." She rose to her feet silently, careful not to let the chair scrape against the tiled floor, and crossed over to Skinner, grasping his arm gently. "We should leave him to rest. I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee." Skinner nodded. It didn't take a genius to figure out Mulder's reticence with regards to closing his eyes for even a short while. To have done that earlier in the day might have stolen precious moments away from his time with her. Moments where, no doubt, he would have been drinking in the image of his partner. Trying to find a way to store her memory within himself. A way to sustain him when he found himself alone. But now, there was hope where before there had been none. A slim hope maybe, but hope nonetheless, and Mulder had deemed it safe to escape his vigil for just a short time. He needed sleep. That much was obvious. To exist as he had for this long would have destroyed lesser men, and Skinner didn't need a medical degree to know what this last week had cost him. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Mulder had left this room for more than ten minutes at a time. Sleep wouldn't solve everything. But it would certainly go at least some of the way. Nodding thoughtfully, his eyes still on Mulder, Skinner put an arm around Margaret's shoulders. "Coffee sounds good." ********** 12:11p.m. Someone was shaking his shoulder. At first he thought he was dreaming, but the action became more persistent. He tried to open his eyes, but the fatigue was just too much. Ignoring the hand that gripped him, he burrowed his head further into the softness of the blanket beneath his cheek. But the shaking became more urgent, refusing to be ignored. And finally he came back to himself, threw off the bonds of sleep that still held him, and raised his head wearily. Immediately he did so, though, his breath caught in his throat. For next to him, bathed in a strange, almost ethereal glow, stood Felicia Slabbert. A glance to his left confirmed that Scully was still with him. and for a second he watched in wonderment as the subdued lighting endowed his partner's pale skin with a kind of luminescence that he had never seen before. "You have to come with me." Mulder started visibly at the child's words. "What?" "You have to come. You have to save her." Mulder frowned, bringing a hand to his head as he did so. "Am I dreaming?" He watched as Felicia smiled. And like Scully had done before him, he was suddenly struck by how *sad* this child appeared to be. It were as though she had seen everything, experienced everything that the world had to offer. Had experienced it and found it wanting. The face of a survivor. Of a *victim*. But the smile was there nonetheless, accompanied by a tiny twinkle within her eye that spoke of how this child had once been. A child who held in her hands the secrets to that most elusive of worlds that existed between wake and sleep. "You're not dreaming. But you're not awake either," she supplied hesitantly. Mulder straightened up. Keeping his voice low as he delved deeper he asked, "What do you want from me?" Felicia drifted over to where Scully lay, tracing a finger along the bed until she reached the pillow where Scully's head rested. "I never meant to hurt her," she whispered. "I just wanted her to help me." She turned back to Mulder, and something inside of him cracked sharply as he watched those beautiful blue eyes fill with tears, which slowly escaped their confines to drip slowly down her pale cheeks. He hadn't realized that a child was capable of expressing this kind of misery. It bled from her every pore. Her every gesture was one of defeat. "I know now I was wrong. That no one can help me." Mulder stared at her, hardly daring to breathe. "What do you want from me?" Felicia bowed her head, hiding from him almost. So like Scully it took his breath away. "I want you to come with me. I want you to take her back. I want this to be over." Mulder rose to his feet slowly. "How do you know I can?" he asked gently, surprised when the child's face broke into a tremulous smile that chased away the shadows for just a heartbeat. "I know because you love her. You always have." Continued chapter 29 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 21 Mar 2001 03:00:59 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 29/31 For disclaimer and blurb please refer to Prologue AUTHOR'S NOTES - PLEASE READ. I was really hoping to get all this posted this week, but I haven't managed it. I have to go into Hospital for a few days so am posting everything I have that's fully edited. I'll be back on Saturday and by then the last two chapters will have come back to me and I'll post them too. I'm so sorry to leave you hanging and I know there are people following this but it's just unavoidable. :-( Ally xx Dreamcatcher 29 Dreamcatcher. May 17th, 1999. Time unknown. Mulder was unaware of the journey. Unlike the last time, there was no pain, no violence. Just the weird sensation that somehow he was moving, transcending from one conscious plane to the next. He felt no fear. Instead there was just an overriding sense that this was *right*. That the child beside him would allow no harm to come to him. She guided him, gently, almost reverently through the fine mists that now surrounded them. Mulder somehow knew that there was no danger here. It was a beautiful sensation, an abiding peace that cloaked him protectively as he became ever more detached from reality, that floated around him, tickling his senses pleasantly. And all the time he could feel her, could feel Scully's presence. He knew that with every step he took, he was travelling closer to her as she reached out to him through his mind. He had no concept of how long the journey actually took, had no way of judging the time that passed. And truthfully, it just didn't seem to matter. Finally, a touch on his arm brought him back as the mists fell away, leaving Mulder feeling as invigorated as if he had slept for hours. His every sense seemed heightened, sharpened somehow by the magic of this place he now saw before him: a forest glade where the trees stood like tall sentries all around, reaching up to a sky that, to Mulder's eyes at least, seemed impossibly blue. Patterns from the sunlight above dappled the soft ground with a million ever-changing patterns, coloring the grass pleasantly with its golden hue. Flowers grew in abundance. A dizzying array of color swayed and shifted in the light breeze, transforming subtly in to ferns as they crept toward a sparkling pool set in the center of the glade. A scene from a child's fairy tale. So breathtaking that for a moment Mulder couldn't speak. Beside him Fliss watched his reaction, seeing the scene as though through his eyes, taking in the beauty that surrounded them. Knowing that he was seeing it as it should always be seen. "What is this place?" he breathed, the sound catching on a summer breeze where it seemed to dance, suspended in the air. Fliss smiled softly, the act transforming her face, giving it a lightness that Mulder had not yet witnessed. A child's face. Suffused with all the innocence she had once enjoyed. "This place?" She let her eyes swing lazily around to take in the landscape. "This place is a dream, Agent Mulder. *Your* dream." Mulder tentatively reached out a hand and captured a maple leaf between his thumb and forefinger, needing something tangible to hold onto, to affirm that this was indeed really happening. "And Scully? Is she here?" In answer to his question Fliss simply lifted her arm slowly, knowing that Mulder's eyes were fixed intently on her. He followed her outstretched finger, almost afraid to look too far should the picture before him disappear. For just in the distance, half concealed by a bank of dazzling white lilies, lay his partner. She was curled up atop the emerald green grass, barely discernible against it. Knees drawn up to her chest, she appeared to be sleeping. As Mulder moved closer, he could just make out the curve of her lips against the pale skin. Smiling slightly in her sleep. He reached her finally. He was unwilling to disturb the silence around them by rushing to her side. He sensed that there was no need for haste, that regardless of how long it might take him to get to her, the end result would be the same. But eventually he allowed himself to kneel beside her, touching a hand to her face, feeling her warmth through his fingertips. It was enough for his throat to close painfully. To feel her like this, to know that she was alive beneath him was almost too much to bear, and unable to restrain himself any longer, Mulder slipped his hands beneath her, lifting her slightly so as to gather her against him. He burrowed his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of sunshine and flowers like a drowning man taking a last sweet taste of air before he died. His eyes, when he finally raised them to Felicia, were wet with tears. "Why doesn't she wake up?" Felicia smiled. "It's not time yet. Soon, though. Soon you'll both wake up." Even as she uttered the words her face clouded over. Her expression took on a faraway look as she shifted her eyes away from Mulder, fixing them on the mountains that loomed in the distance, their caps shining snowy white in the sunlight. "And then you'll leave." Mulder gently disentangled his arms from around Scully, laying her down softly on the carpet of green beneath them, turning his attention to Felicia. "And you?" he queried. "What will you do?" Fliss kept her eyes fixed ahead, working her mouth slightly as she fought to keep hold of her composure. "I have to stay here." She inclined her head slightly towards Scully. "I thought she would be the one to help me. I know now that no one ever can." Mulder shook his head. "I don't understand." Fliss finally turned toward him, meeting his eyes with her own, sending that same jolt of energy through him that he had felt the first time they had met. A child who was old before her years. A child who knew more than he could ever hope to wish for. Her tone was dreamy. All traces of her earlier tears were gone. "I *made* this place. It's my mind. Just like this is yours now. The things we see here are controlled by us. We see different things. It's what we can make it. What we can imagine it will be." She shrugged. "I have to make it right again. I have to stay here. To make sure no one ever gets hurt again...like...like my father got hurt. Like I hurt Lilly. It was my fault, you see. All of it." "No." Mulder grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. "Your father's death wasn't your fault. It was an accident. I read the police report..." He trailed off then, knowing more than anyone that simple reports rarely told the whole story. That the truth could never be confined to a few pieces of paper. There were so many different kinds of truth. Truths that would never be acknowledged. He knew. Oh, yeah. He *knew*. Even so, the thought of this beautiful child, suspended in this world of dreams, of *nightmares*, was almost too much for him to bear. "You don't belong here," he suggested gently. "Not like this." Fliss tightened her fingers around his. For just a few moments she allowed herself to hang onto him before she stepped away, severing the connection between them as she shook her head. "Sometimes I think this is the only place I *do* belong." Mulder didn't attempt to follow her as she backed away from him. He just stood and watched as the image of her became hazy. It was as though the mists had returned, come to cloak the glade in darkness, but he knew this not to be the case. The sun still shone above him, warming him pleasantly as his body drew its rays toward him. The light was still here. Constant. Reassuring. Safe. Just as it should always be. And from within that light came form and feature. A winding, shimmering vortex that danced before his eyes, swallowing everything in its path. He watched, awestruck, as the vortex hung suspended in midair for a few moments before it began to tip gently toward him. But Mulder felt no fear, could hear no sounds aside from a whispering voice that seemed to fill his entire being. A voice that came to him through the mists. Telling him all he needed to know. The mouth of the vortex was upon him now, encasing him in light and a gossamer-like softness that enveloped him like a blanket as he watched the images before him. Fragments of his life. Pictures that played out before him, giving him access to memories he had thought long forgotten. A myriad of swirling images that had lain deep in his subconscious until now. Until he had come to this place and been allowed just the tiniest glimpse of what lay inside of him. And in the center of everything she stood there. Arm outstretched as she offered him her hand. Smiling softly at him, she seemed almost radiant, her blue eyes shining as he walked toward her, knowing that it was time to leave this place. Knowing that it was time for him to bring her back. Continued chapter 30 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 24 Mar 2001 17:31:07 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 30/31 Dreamcatcher 30 Dreamcatcher May 17th, 1999. Time unknown. They had walked for a long time, hands entwined together, their fingers playing softly, skin against skin. The breeze had picked up again, a response to the brightening sunshine as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, keeping them comfortably warm. The grass was soft against Scully's bare feet, each step deliciously cool as she matched Mulder, pace for pace. There was no hurry now in their movement as they allowed themselves the luxury of exploring this place. They were conscious that soon they would be leaving, that they would never return, and for a second Scully closed her eyes, remembering the darkness that had come again and again to cloak her days. But now the darkness had gone. Mulder was here and had replaced the darkness with light. She had no conscious idea of how he could have known and she had already dismissed the thought as being irrelevant. He had come for her and that was all that mattered to her now. She had held out her hand to him and watched as, without the slightest hesitation, he had caught hold of it, drawing her toward him. For a moment he had just stared at her in wonderment, eyes intense, as though waiting for her to disappear once again. Finally he had wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as their heartbeats merged into one. A simple embrace that had seemed so much more. Because Scully had never felt closer to him. It was as though the world around them ceased to exist. For just a moment, time stood still. And every fiber of her being became wrapped up with his. Two separate beings who, just for a second, became the whole world. She didn't pretend to understand it. Deep down she already knew, knew all that they meant to each other. She realized that when this was over, they would go back to the way they always had been, refusing to acknowledge everything they shared. The knowledge was enough to make her heart contract painfully inside her chest. To feel so much and not be able to bring closure to it hurt her. It hurt her more than she could ever tell him. And just the feel of his fingers against her skin told her he felt it too. There was so little time left. The sun was dipping lower in the sky and somehow Scully sensed that they wouldn't be here when night finally came. Their time here was drawing to a close. Not enough time. Never enough time. She came to a halt, feeling Mulder's forward momentum carry him onwards for just a footstep before he turned and gazed at her quizzically. "What is it?" Scully dropped her head, staring at the ground beneath their feet. "Will we remember?" she asked quietly, her words almost lost as they floated downwards. Mulder frowned. She sounded so lost, so lonely, her voice filled with a thousand yearnings he knew he could never hope to ease. And more than anything he wished he could give her the answer she needed. But he refused to lie to her. He refused to deceive either of them more than they had already been deceived. "No. We won't remember." His voice was decisive, as already he understood that they would remember this place only as one would remember a dream. Half-forgotten fragments that would occasionally resurface, only to be pushed away again. To be filed away in that elusive part of the human memory that crumbles even as it builds itself up. A constantly changing landscape from one day to the next. Scully nodded. The movement was barely perceptible, and suddenly Mulder knew that they couldn't end it all this way. That there was more to be said. With actions that were permissible here even if not in their waking lives. And gently, so gently, he placed his index finger beneath his partner's chin, drawing her face toward him until he could look deep into her china blue eyes. "Mulder?" Scully breathed his name. The tiniest intonation of doubt seeped toward him, and for the first time Mulder allowed himself the luxury of ignoring that doubt. It didn't exist here. It wasn't a part of who they were. Out there, back in the real world, he could never have allowed himself to touch her this way, couldn't have let his hand linger against the graceful curve of her neck as he leaned in closer to her. "This is right," he whispered, watching as her pupils enlarged, her head tilting toward him in affirmation. An invitation to finally come together in the way they had always yearned. And as their lips met, she felt herself sinking once again, falling into the depths of him until nothing else existed. Making the final step towards the end of a journey. The world around them grew hazy, the colors swirling, blending into one, stealing away form and feature as they clung to each other, unaware now of the shift in their reality. And in the distance, Felicia smiled as she bestowed upon them a final gift before they left this place. ********** St Mary's Hospital. Cleveland, Ohio May 17th, 1999 12:42p.m. Margaret Scully rounded the corner that led to her daughter's room. The few minutes she had spent away had revitalized her somewhat and despite Skinner's best efforts, she had insisted on returning to the ICU to sit with Scully a while longer. She would attempt once again to persuade Fox to leave her bedside, for a while at least. He needed sleep. That much was obvious even to her. But she doubted he would listen. Sometimes, when she looked at him, seeing his eyes fixed so intently on the woman before him, she doubted he would ever listen to anyone ever again. For perhaps the first time she had fully appreciated just what they meant to each other, and while she could respect his level of commitment, she was smart enough to realize that it would eventually be his undoing. Squaring her shoulders in readiness for the argument that was bound to ensue, Maggie glanced toward the line of waist- high windows that afforded the medical personnel an unobstructed view of the occupants within, and just for a second, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened as the image of the empty bed slammed into her conscious mind with all the force of a sledgehammer. And then, a heartbeat later, they were there again. Faster than it had taken for her to blink her eyes, the image was shattered into a million pieces and replaced with the view of Mulder, still sleeping, his head turned to the side as though watching over her daughter in his dreams. Margaret smiled and shook her head. A trick of the light maybe? The product of a tired mind and a tired body. Nothing more than that. She stood, staring through the glass for a minute longer, unwilling to disturb Mulder from his slumber, so lost in thought she almost missed it. A movement so tiny, so inconsequential that she almost didn't see it at all. But the movement was there. There was no doubt about it and Margaret felt the tears forming, choking her in their intensity as they began to gather beneath her lids. But she wasn't conscious of them as they began to spill over, making a salty path down her cheeks. Wasn't conscious of anything other than the sight of her daughter's eyes, fluttering open before her. Concluded chapter 31 From ally112038@aol.com Wed Mar 28 18:14:42 2001 Date: 24 Mar 2001 17:39:12 GMT From: Ally112038 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: *NEW* Dreamcatcher by Ally 31/31 Dreamcatcher 31 St Mary's Hospital. Cleveland, Ohio. May 19th, 1999 10:14a.m. Mulder eased open the hardwood door that led to Scully's room. She had been moved out of the ICU the evening before - her doctors unwilling as yet to surrender her completely from their care, but unable to justify having her take up the valuable bed space in that most specialized of departments set aside for only the very sick. In truth, there was no reason for her to even be here at all. It was as though she had simply awoken from a long sleep. Disoriented for a short time, sure, but fully aware of her surroundings and in full control of her faculties. They were calling it a miracle. Just one of many that had occurred during that long, long day. Little Gina Robik had awoken from her coma. Refreshed and energized, she had seemed unconcerned by the apparent worry of those who had maintained a vigil beside her bed. She had been questioned at length by her doctors and, amidst much scratching of heads, been pronounced as fit and healthy as any other seven-year- old girl. This news had filtered down to Mulder second hand. His request to see the girl had been denied by her parents. Likewise, the sudden reappearance of Deborah Hollis remained equally perplexing. Found in her bed, curled up against the chill air of a room that lay empty, she had been fast asleep and smiling peacefully. The startled cry of Julia Brackenhurst had woken the child who, by all accounts, had shown no disorientation whatsoever. Neither had she any clear memories of where she might have been. Again, this information had been passed to Mulder, this time by the Cleveland P.D. which had been called to the scene shortly after Debbie's discovery. Again, he had requested to speak to the child. Again, he had been denied. Which left only Scully. The only one who could even hope to help him fill in the gaps. Mulder had been dragged from the arms of sleep by the sound of Scully's voice. The whispered words had cut through his dreams as cleanly as a knife through fresh butter and he had opened his eyes to find himself staring straight into the clear depths of her own. There had been no surprise there. Just an expression of acceptance, of peaceful serenity as she had smiled gently at him. And just for a second, he had *remembered*. Remembered the feel of her lips on his, the way she tasted, the scent of the sunshine in her hair. But so very elusive a memory. One which had hung, suspended in his mind for just a heartbeat before it was gone. She had slept deeply that night and he hadn't moved from beside her. Hadn't closed his eyes for a second as he drank in her image before him. He watched over her as she slept, occasionally soothing her softly as she flittered on the edge of wakefulness. It was good to watch her sleep. Good to know that she was back with him. And throughout that long night, Mulder had tried to remember all that was already breaking free from him. So many images swirling inside his head, too distant now to reconcile. It had been frustrating - was still frustrating - that he remembered so little. But at some point during the night, at that magical point where the sky becomes streaked with the first vestiges of dawn, he had given up. He didn't understand everything, but did sense that whatever had happened yesterday wasn't his to remember. One day maybe. But not now. Now he had more important things to focus on. In front of him Scully sat propped up in the bed, blanket folded down to her waist. She was staring idly out the window that Mulder had already discovered afforded a wonderful view of the parking lot. The plain blue hospital gown billowed around her small frame, succeeding admirably in making her look about twelve years old. A tray of half-eaten food lay discarded on the small table beside the bed, and Mulder frowned when he saw it. "Not hungry?" Scully started at his words, snapping her neck around and fixing her gaze on him. "It's *hospital* food, Mulder," she offered by way of explanation. He shrugged lightly. "You need to eat." It was a statement of fact, no argument permitted. He crossed the room silently and after planting a gentle kiss on her cheek, perched on the bed beside her. Picking up the paper carton, he eyed its contents dubiously. "You didn't touch your Jell-O. Here..." And to Scully's amazement, he dipped the plastic spoon into the dessert's shimmering depths, scooped up a bite-sized chunk, and offered it to her. Even more amazing was the fact that, almost against her will, she opened her mouth obediently, as though being spoonfed by her partner was the most natural thing in the world. Mulder grinned. "Better." He held out the carton toward her. "Here. You can do the rest." Scully took the dessert from him and laid it carefully atop her knees, her eyes remaining downcast as she tried to find the right words. "Mulder...," she faltered before raising her head once again, locking her gaze with his. "Everything that I saw...that *we* saw...it was real, wasn't it?" Mulder smiled as he cupped her chin in his palm, stroking her cheek gently with his outstretched thumb, taking a moment before answering. Wondering, not for the first time, just how much she remembered. How much she would be willing to share with him. "Does it feel real to you, Scully?" He was aware that his words didn't just refer to the events that had transpired over the preceding weeks. That somehow, they had become closer. Closer than he had previously imagined possible. To have almost lost her again. To have to prepare himself to let her go. He hadn't thought he was capable of living through it. But he had. They both had. It could have turned out so differently. She nodded. "Yes. It feels as real to me as you are now." Mulder smiled and picked up the discarded carton again, his hand hovering in front of her. "Then it's real, Scully." ********** Dreamcatcher Epilogue Georgetown. May 20th, 1999 Scully fitted the key in the lock, twisting it deftly while pushing with her shoulder. In response, the door swung open and she stepped aside to allow Mulder to enter before her. The apartment smelled dusty, unlived-in, as it always did when she returned from any time away. She knew it would take at least a day, maybe more, before she felt completely at home here again. She turned to Mulder, smiling as she did so. Because regardless of the apartment's current state, it was good to be home. "You didn't need to bring me all the way back here." Mulder shrugged. "Hey, I had nothing better to..." The words died in his throat and just for a second, Scully tensed. The expression on his face was guarded as his gaze settled on something in the distance. Scully followed his eyes with her own, unable to see what it was that had commanded his attention. "Mulder? What is it?" He didn't answer her, just drifted slowly toward the small table that graced a corner of his partner's living room, his back to Scully as she watched him pick something up from it's surface. "You got a package." He held the beautifully wrapped parcel aloft for her inspection. Scully crossed over to join him. "A well-wisher maybe?" he suggested. Scully shrugged. "Maybe." She took the parcel from him, turning it over and over in her hands. "There's no return address." "Maybe it's on the inside," Mulder supplied helpfully. "You won't know till you open it." Scully narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you know anything about this, Mulder?" She stopped, though, as her partner held up his hand seriously. "Scout's honor, Scully. Nothing to do with me." "Hmph." Scully wasn't convinced, although his expression suggested that he was just as intrigued as she was. Rather than arguing the point further with him, she carefully peeled back the paper covering. "Oh, my God," she breathed as the wrapping fell away to reveal an intricate circle of dazzling silver thread interwoven with groups of crystalline beads. Perfectly formed, they resembled teardrops against the silken strands. Lifting the Dreamcatcher aloft she held it toward Mulder, who caught hold of one of the snowy white feathers that hung suspended from its center, running it through his fingers. It was dazzling, in both its complex workmanship and its unnerving beauty. It caught the light and shimmered as though with a life of its own. "Who sent this?" she asked quietly, not overly surprised when he didn't answer. He didn't need to. Instead, he knelt down slowly, capturing a piece of paper that had, unseen by Scully, fluttered to the ground from within the parcel's bindings. He held it to her, watching as her eyes scanned the words, understanding clouding her delicate features. Words written for Scully, perhaps by a child who would remain missing forever. Locked inside a dream world of her own making. The words were familiar, written in the careful hand of a young girl. A young girl who had set them free. *A dream itself is but a shadow.* End AUTHOR'S NOTES AND 'THANK YOUS!' Quick disclaimer first - 'A dream itself is but a shadow' and 'To sleep to sleep, perchance to dream' I stole from William Shakespear. No infringement intended of course. This has been the most amazing journey. I started this way back when and left it languishing on my hard drive till Peggy came along and urged me to finish it. I'll always be grateful to both her and Meg because together they showed that I *could* do this. They has been with me every step of the way, never nagged when it was going badly and made some wonderful suggestions regarding characterization and plot development. They have been my main betas for this story and have made time in their hectic lives to hold my hand. This was a major undertaking and I could never have done it alone. My beta team deserve a huge pat on the back, not only for sticking with this for the better part of a year, but also for putting up with my whining when I found myself suffering from the most appalling writer's block. For eight weeks they got *nothing* from me whatsoever, then just took up where we'd left off without even a murmur of complaint. So, Peggy, Jina, and Meg (who incidentally seems to get much more of a kick out of all this than I do - thanks, Meg!), please know that if I were rich I'd buy you all diamond-studded Dreamcatchers. Unfortunately, though, I'm not rich, so instead I offer you my undying appreciation. {{{{{}}}}} Every novel needs an editor, right? Susan, you came in right at the last minute and bulk edited the first 24 chapters of this thing without even batting an eyelid. You are amazing! Thanks need to go to the wonderful Amanda (MaybeAmanda) for her help in designing and maintaining for me a web site just so Dreamcatcher could have a place to call home. It shares the space with all my other fanfic and they seem to cohabit quite nicely. ;-) She did this all for the price of a few bars of aero chocolate and a pic of DD in a kilt. Definitely money well spent. But the one who has had more of an impact on me than everyone else is my best friend, Pamala. She got me into this fic writing lark in the first place and betaed my very first offering to the fanfic world. More than that, though, she has become like an extension of my family. The 3700 miles that separate us melt away to nothing and although my bank manager is having serious problems with the fact I keep haring off across the world, I'm choosing to ignore him. Finally, to all those who sent me feedback whilst this was still a WIP. THANK YOU! You have no idea how much it helped when I was struggling to get it all edited, polished and ready to post. Feel free to send more! Only one more thing to say really...I will NEVER attempt another novel length case file fic as long as I live! Now how's that for famous last words? Ally xx :-) Feed me at Ally112038@aol.com