Subject: NEW: Joan of Arkham I (1/1) by Loligo
From: feaeap@worldnet.att.net (Loligo Opalescens)
Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 19:33:03 GMT

"Joan of Arkham" will be a story told through Scully's dreams.  
Actually "story" might not be the best word, because in the way 
of dreams, there won't be a traditionally straightforward plot.  
But the dreams are all related, and they'll take place in a 
certain order.  Thus, I've decided to number them Joan of Arkham 
I, II, III, etc. rather than J. of A. (1/?), (2/?) etc.

If the Muse strikes, they may resolve themselves into a typical 
plot.  They may lead to a story set in waking life.  I don't know 
yet.  In the mean time, I hope you find this odd series of 
vignettes interesting!

Time-wise, they are set sometime around Gethsemane, though they 
will not deal with the incidents of that episode (I don't think 
so, anyway).

I plan on posting one installment every week or so.

L.O.

feaeap@worldnet.att.net or romanac@hotmail.com

* Find my XF essays at 
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Acropolis/8796/xindex.html

* Find my fanfic on Gossamer, filed under "Loligo"

FEEDBACK OF ANY SORT ALWAYS WELCOME, and feel free to dissect 
this on ATXC as well.

**********************************
Archiving: Sent directly to Gossamer.  OK to archive elsewhere.
Rating: G
Spoilers: general season 4 spoilers in this series
Classification: V
Summary: Scully is troubled by dreams.
**********************************



She awoke in her hospital room to find bright moonlight streaming 
in through the high, tall window.  In the still air, the broad, 
slanting beam of brilliant silver seemed almost solid -- not mere 
rays of reflected light from far away, but an object giving off 
its own radiance.

She was confused for a moment, and thought that maybe her room 
was situated in a church.  The night was _that_ still and holy.  
And expectant.

Of course she wasn't in a church, she remembered.  But with a 
sleepy smile she watched ghosts of angels gliding up and down the 
silver beam.  Like shoppers on an escalator.  Like Jacob's 
ladder.

She looked down to where the beam struck her bed, and she froze.  
It was moving.  It was creeping inexorably closer to her, and 
though her heart began pounding in a sudden panic, she could not 
move away.  It hadn't touched her yet, but already she would feel 
the warmth, swelling to a burning.  The cold light would consume 
her!

The beam crept on, spilling across the middle of the bed, pooling 
in the curve formed by the middle of her body as she lay curled 
on her side.  The slowness of the attack frightened her even 
more, and then finally it touched her, bathing her hips and belly 
and throwing the folds of the blanket into sharp relief of light 
and dark.

She felt nothing.  Astonishing!  No burning.  Not even a tingle.  
She sat up and searched around her bed.  When she turned back to 
the window, her son was standing there.

He stood in the middle of the glow, the moonlight turning his 
sandy hair to gold.

"Oh..." a little whimper of fear and pain escaped her.  She 
clutched wildly at his arm, pulling him out of the burning light, 
banishing the coruscating glow from his hair.

This action allayed her fear for him, but not her pain.  She 
could not remember the last time she had seen him!  How long had 
she been in this hospital?

She pulled him close so that he wouldn't see the pain and doubt 
on her face.  He wrapped his arms around her neck and her arms 
enfolded him.  She absorbed the feeling of his thin frame, the 
warm, smooth skin and the slight muscles of a child.  She held 
him for a long time.

"Mom," he whispered, "you're going to get better, right?"  He 
moved back a little to look at her, eyes full of trust.

"Yes.  Yes, I will.  Soon."  She couldn't even remember the last 
time she'd seen him... Who was taking care of him?  Panic rose 
again at the thought of him hiding in ragged corners like an 
animal in the night city, but then the answer dawned on her: 
"You're staying with grandma, right?"

"Yeah.  She's waiting.  I better go."  His wide eyes barely left 
her face as he walked slowly toward the door.

She kissed her fingertips and waved as he left.

She sat back against her pillow, tears streaming, trickling down 
her neck as the moonlight dimmed.






end Joan of Arkham I (1/1)