From: laster Date: Mon, 05 Jun 2000 10:24:53 -0400 Subject: Peace in the Quiet by dlynn Source: direct TITLE: Peace in the Quiet AUTHOR: dlynn FEEDBACK: dlynn1550@my-deja.com CATEGORY: post episode (Requiem) DISTRIBUTION: xemplary, gossamer, spooky's, yes. Everyone else just let me know, please. SPOILERS: Requiem. And references are made to my story, Reflections of a Rainy Night. To fully appreciate this story, you should read that first. RATING: PG SUMMARY: Darkness doesn't invade a room, smothering the light, but light holds back the darkness, illuminating the inky black with even the tiniest flicker of its presence. DISCLAIMER: I'm playing with CC's kiddies again, what can I say, but I still don't get any money. Peace in the Quiet: Scully peered through the blind of her hospital room window. Replete with tacky blue gown securely wrapped around her slender frame, she appeared small, waif-like. A brilliant sunset had captured her attention as it blossomed into the fullness of night, despite the looming thunderclouds. Each glorious strand of light had been reflected behind the ominous storm and spilled out behind the clouds like vibrant finger paints trailing through the sky - azure, cobalt, violet, and crimson, until, finally, they had all given way to midnight black. Even in the somber shades of the impending storm, the light had managed to find a way to break through. It was always like that. Darkness doesn't invade a room, smothering the light, but light holds back the darkness, illuminating the inky black with even the tiniest bit of its presence. Just as it is in nature, it was for her. Scully laid her fingertips against the glass, and traced the pooling droplets that formed on the outside of the window. The gentle mist had begun an hour ago. She had watched as the storm clouds above had finally loosened their swollen eyes, gently crying out upon a tormented earth - an earth that had no understanding, no desire to comprehend the sacrifices Mulder made for it. The sacrifice he was making - With her eyes beseeching the heavens, Scully listened with her heart, and her soul. As it had been with Theresa and her husband, Scully felt Mulder's presence. Their bond had always been strong, spookily so from the very beginning. Yet ever since the anomalous brain wave activity he'd exhibited in the fall of last year, their connection had been more solid. It was as though their bond had changed from a singular melody into rich, harmonious tones. "Agent Scully?" whispered Skinner's voice, coming from directly behind her. He'd apparently come inside without her even being aware. "Are you alright?" "Hmm...yes, Sir. I'm fine," she said, her voice soft and lilting, trembling with unbearable grief and undeniable joy -- a contradiction that defied logic. Skinner sighed as though he didn't really believe her, but he also didn't press it. He knew better than to do so. "I'm...well, I thought I'd get going. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave? May I call your mom?" "No, Sir. I like the quiet," Scully murmured as she slid her fingertip once more against the streaky glass. "I find peace in the quiet." "I don't think it's good for you to be alone, Scully. Please, let me call your mother, or a friend-" Placing her palm flat against her abdomen, Scully's fingers twitched restlessly against the hospital gown. Finally, she cupped the area that in a few short months would billow, giving definition to her tiny frame. "We're not alone, Sir." Ruefully chuckling in spite of himself, Skinner asked, "Did you phrase it that way on purpose?" With the tiniest of smiles she answered, "No, believe it or not, that very bad pun was totally unintentional. I guess seven years of working with Mulder has rubbed off -" "-In more ways than one?" Skinner asked, no condemnation or judgement present in his voice. "Well, I'm hardly the Virgin Mary, and although we both know people think Mulder's spooky, I doubt anyone would credit him with being the Holy Ghost," Scully sighed. "So that rules out immaculate conception... Sir, I'm an old fashioned girl, who got knocked up in a very old fashioned way." "But I thought you were...uh...barren?" "Hmm...that is a puzzler isn't it? We could speculate. It could have been one pesky little ovum that refused to be got, or the further machinations of our CSM friend, or alien intervention-" "- or the Holy Ghost?" "Well, at the very least, a little Divine and miraculous intervention. Frankly, Sir, for once I can't really say that I care. All I know is, without a shadow of a doubt, this child is Fox Mulder's. God help it." Pausing in reflection, Scully continued. "I remember having a conversation with him once... on a rainy night just like this. He had come to the realization that we would never be able to conceive children. It hurt him terribly," Scully explained. "-the realization he'd lost the chance for biological parenthood as much as I had. 'No chance for Uber-Mulder's,' he'd said." As though words had finally escaped him, Skinner reached out laying his hand upon her shoulder. She bent her head, gently rubbing her cheek against the back of his hand. Then she straightened, her body language signified the end of the conversation. "Ok...I'll leave you and little uber-Mulder alone," Skinner said, turning to leave. "I'll be by in the morning. Call if you need me." "Thank you. I will, but as I said, 'we are not alone'. As surely as I can speak with you, I can sense Mulder's presence. I can feel him, Sir. I know he's alive. And I know we will find him, or he will find us." Skinner left the room, the soft snick of the door heralding his departure. In the utter stillness, Scully's fingers reached once more to the stars. The tip of one digit gently traced the iridescent flicker of light. Slowly she murmured, "I want to believe; I have to believe." ~~~dlynn, May 23, 2000