From: Ms. AM Date: Fri, 22 Sep 2000 03:14:05 -0400 Subject: New: In the Night (1/1) Title: In the Night (1/1) Author: Ms. AM Email: ALMowry@pathway.net Rating: NC-17 to be safe Spoilers: Everything up to Req. is fair game. Archive: ATXC, Ephemeral, Gossamer, etc. Category: V Keywords: MSR, Angst, MT Summary: I'm really bad at these, it might be a dream or it might even be a shared dream or neither. It's just plain weird and a POV to boot. Disclaimer: Just call me Lucy in the Sky (with diamonds) cause I'm not CC, 1013, or Fox and this sentence doesn't amount to crap if they want to force the issue. I don't own the characters in this fic, nuff said. In the Night (1/1) In the night. That's when she comes to me. At least I think it's night. I only have the dimming of the strange light that suffuses this place to go by. And THEY have never come for me at night. I'm always returned here to this same room. More of a chamber really, with minimal furnishings. There is a place for me to cleanse myself and also a soft surface for me to rest on. I need to rest. THEY do things to me in the other time, the daytime, terrible--painful things...tests. Tests that have left me weak and begging for mercy. I used to be someone. I had a name, once. I remember the day so clearly--the day I forgot who I was, who I am. On that day they pushed a needle into my eye and up into my brain, until they succeeded in taking away a part of me. I hated them for it. Until the night came and then I wanted to thank them. That was the first night SHE appeared to me. She gave me back my name. She pulled me to her and I collapsed. I KNEW her and I curled up against her, sobbing, with my head resting on her lap. Her hands were moving, fingers stroking through my hair and soothing me with her touch. I drifted not awake yet not asleep. I felt her shift, her lips brushing my temple, soft and gentle. She murmured a word and I knew it was my name, "Mulder," she said before kissing my cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut, chanting Mulder over and over inside my mind. Maybe if I say it enough, THEY won't be able to take it from me again. When I open my eyes she's gone and the lights are brighter--another day. * * * * * Time doesn't have much meaning here. It slips away like sand if you try to hold it in the palm of your hand. Like the memories THEY'VE stolen from me-- there one second and then just, just *not*. Every time THEY come for me, THEY suck a little more of my intellect away--of what makes me, *me*, like a colony of vampires and their midnight forages for prey. I bleed for THEM. But it's not just my blood THEY desire; it's me--my life and my experiences. Sometimes I can't see. I think I'm slowly going blind. I know it's probably from the needles in my eyes, one day the right--next day it's the left. What little life I have won't mean much without my sight. Without the ability to see her when she comes. My name, I still haven't forgotten it. She reminds me every night. She's hovering over me now, silken hair tickling a path forged by her lips as she travels down my body. Her breath feels warm, but each exhale is a fleeting puff as she moves lower still. Her mouth is warm and moist. Having reached her goal she takes that part of my body, the one that hardens from her presence and begins to assault my senses with her lips and tongue. She tells me we're making love. Yes, I agree. That sounds as perfect as it feels. She pulls back, her hand grasps me--pumping up and down along my shaft--it glistens with the moisture left by her mouth. She kisses just the tip and murmurs, "Mulder." It almost feels like she's talking to IT instead of me. My Penis. My Erection. My Cock. She's called it all those names at least once when we have made love. She looks up at me, a smile forming as she crawls on top of me, sinking down--taking me into her body. I pull her down for a kiss and she moans into my mouth when I thrust my hips upward the moment our lips meet. She pushes away from my mouth; her palms are spread open on my chest as she rocks against me. I start to follow, but we can't make love with our torsos pressed tightly together anymore; her rounded tummy is in the way. I flop back down, bending my knees so my feet are planted firmly. I snap my hips up several times, eliciting gasps and groans from the woman above me. She must sense my slight frustration and places my hands on her breasts, leaning back onto my thighs at the same time. I smile at her. My fingers spread out, squeezing the globes gently. She whimpers when I rub my thumbs over her nipples. I do it again. They aren't as sensitive as before; the one time I was too rough and I made her cry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...please forgive me," I'd stopped--I didn't know her name. "I'm NOTHING! No one! How can you stand to make love with a man who forgets his own name and doesn't know yours?" I sobbed out. "Shh..." she quieted me, kissing me and holding me tight, "Don't EVER say that, you--you're everything to me." That was the first night I tasted her. My lips kissed those nipples reddened from my rough handling; my tongue swirled around each one until I ventured between her thighs. I held her legs apart, she was completely exposed to me as I dipped my head and made the first sojourn upon her swollen and glistening flesh. She cried out with each stroke of my tongue. I was relentless. She would hit a peak, succumb to the pleasure and I would continue. My own desire was building and she begged me to stop. The pleasure was too much, she cried out. I refused her--instead taking the small bundle of nerves and suckling harder than before. She convulsed, her whole body trembling. I moved then--shoving into her, sheathing my cock inside her quivering body, it was wondrous. One stroke, one stroke and I came. The feel of her hot flesh quaking and rippling around me was too intense. I pulled out of her and she groaned turning onto her side. I crawled behind her, my limp cock, wet from our fluids dragging across her thigh and hip in the process. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly when I realized she was sobbing and shaking in my arms. "I'm sorry," I whispered into her shoulder, "I made you cry again. She shook her head no, and took my hands, kissing my knuckles. "What's wrong then?" I asked. "I just miss you," she choked out. I started to reply, to say, 'but I'm right here'...I don't though; her soft voice stopped me. "Hold me, Mulder. Just hold me." And I did. * * * * * But now my hands are caressing her stomach, it's round and full, concealing and protecting our child--she tells me. My--our baby is inside her. "How'd it get there?" I'd asked when I first noticed a difference in her flat and toned abdomen. She'd simply held my hand in place, smiled and said, "We made love and created life, a gift, a wondrous gift." Her smile faded when she realized I didn't understand. I grow weaker everyday, simpler everyday. I don't see her during that time, where does she go? Aren't they taking things, memories, away from her too? Is she just a dream, a new form of torture THEY'VE invented to taunt me with? I'm afraid. Afraid of giving up the dream if she is one. I refused to believe it then and I refuse to believe it now; she is real. Our child kicks and I smile. Her movements increase in speed, her breathing is labored and her face flushed. I slide one hand down to caress her and find myself entranced with watching my cock disappear and reappear with every motion of her hips. I'm so close, so close. I grab her hips and thrust up savagely. She screams out my name just as I squeeze my eyes shut and bellow out my own pleasure. Something's wrong, I felt a pop in my head and I'm getting numb, all over. My vision fades before my eyes close--I'm blind--all I see is blackness. There are hands, straps, something restraining me--I feel a point stabbing into the flesh of my arm and then nothing. * * * * * I am awake and she is here. We are in a small room. A crib stands alone in the center. She turns and sees me. Her stomach is flat. I run over and peer into the crib--the empty crib. Grabbing her by the shoulders I give her a gentle shake, forcing her to look at me, "What happened?" I feel selfish. I once wondered if her memories were being stolen like mine, but now I see. THEY didn't want her memories they wanted her baby--our baby. "Listen to me. What did THEY take from you?" I ask, but sheer terror of the answer prevents me from shouting out the question I need to. WHERE'S OUR BABY?! Her eyes hold mine. I see a sadness I never noticed before. She shakes her head slowly and cups my cheek as tears slide from her eyes before she finally responds. "You, Mulder--you." Pain. In my head. Images and memories float around me. Some fade and others stay. "SCULLY!" I scream. A flash of white and the lights dim. I wait. I wait for her to find me. I wait for her to come to me again, in the night. The End....