From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Fri, 16 Feb 2001 17:47:23 -0600
Subject: A sleepless night by BlueOcean
Source: direct

Reply To: blueocean80@yahoo.it


TITLE: A Sleepless Night (1/1)
AUTHOR: Serena aka Agent Lionheart
E-MAIL: BlueOcean80@yahoo.it
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
SPOILERS: None
RATING: R (for the F word)
CATEGORY: V, MSR (kinda), Angst
ARCHIVE: Wherever. Just keep my name and e-mail 
attached
EDITED BY: Leki (TheDamnBee@juno.com)

DISCLAIMERS: They're not mine, I only borrowed 
them. Don't sue! :D

SUMMARY: Scully has a conversation with herself one 
night when she
can't get her mind to let her go to sleep.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just want to thank Leki for 
editing this story for me and for her support. 
::::Cyber hugs for Leki::::

<<<<<<<<<

What the heck is wrong with me tonight?

When I came home I was sure that as soon as my head 
hit the pillow would fall in a LONG and restorative 
slumber, but I was so, SO wrong. I was certain, no 
doubt about that, that my body requested only to 
sleep; I just wanted to go to bed, slip under the 
blankets and close my eyes until the next morning. 
Huh, I was DEFINITELY wrong.

True, I went to bed.
True, I slipped under the blankets. Actually I'm 
still laying in my bed.
True again, I closed my eyes, but...

But I just can't sleep. I keep on tossing and 
turning and there's nothing, ABSOLUTELY nothing, I 
can do to cross the line which divides dreamland 
and the real world.

Damn it. I'm so tired and today has been a very 
hard, very exhausting, and very long day; I just 
want to sleep. What a wonderful word it is, 
"sleep." Mmm I need it, I have to take at least a 
nap, only few hours of dozing off. That's not fair. 
I deserve this peaceful moment, the only moment of 
calmness I have in my life is this and if I can't
have it, oh well, I'm not going to respond to my 
actions.

So, here I am, one o'clock in the morning, 
switching position every ten seconds and wondering 
"What the heck is wrong with me tonight?." My
bedroom as well as my whole apartment is filled 
with silence, and darkness: I have all I need to 
fall asleep, but somehow it still doesn't work. 
Why? I mean, when I was a little girl and I 
couldn't sleep, my mom, that sage woman, used to 
tell me to close my eyes, listen to my breath and 
to the silence and then, in the twinkling of an 
eye, I found myself dreaming beautiful dreams. So, 
why this time is different? Tonight I followed her 
advise and nothing happened. WHY can't I sleep?

Godammit Dana, you're really trying to find a 
fucking reason, aren't you? There's no reason. You 
just CAN'T. Set your heart at rest!

<you sure?>

What the hell...?

<you sure there's no reason?>

Where did that come from?

<call me your conscience if you wish.>

No, wait, this is NOT happening. I refuse to 
believe that I hear "voices."

<oh yeah, you can hear me, and I'm not a simple 
voice. You have to listen to me>

Oh no, I do NOT have to listen to you. I just want 
to...

<sleep! I know. You're boring, you know?>

Good Lord, if you're up there tell me why you've 
created conscience, and why it always begins to 
speak when my only desire is to...

<sleep! Here it is again! Ok, I know it's late, I 
know that tomorrow you have to get up early, and I 
also know that you don't want to face all this 
right now, but you have no choice! Besides, you 
can't fall asleep until you find the reason.>

You're wrong. I have a choice and I WON'T listen to 
what you want to say.

Now I close my eyes and, and...

Nothing. The wheels in my brain can't stop turning 
and it's becoming clear that if I don't listen to 
IT now, I will not be able to get the rest I long 
for.

<So, now tell me the reasons!>

Reasons?!? There's A reason, only ONE reason, isn't 
there?

<C'mon we both now that there are several ones! You 
can't cheat me. Remember? I am your conscience and 
I know everything about you.>

Well then, if you know me so well, why you're 
bothering me with your questions at one in the 
morning?

<You have to admit everything! That's the moment of 
the truth.>

Admit what?

<You tell me!>

I dunno.

<You're a hard one, Dana Katherine. You're so 
stubborn sometimes. Listen, I am going to ask you 
only one question, a very simple one. If you are
sincere, I swear that I'll shut up. Deal?>

Deal!

<Ok, here it comes. . .  Are you happy?>

Yes I AM.

<Oh really?>

Sure, of course!

Mmm, maybe the answer popped up in my mind too 
quickly. Maybe it IS right. Maybe, just maybe, I'm 
not completely happy.

<See, it's easy! Go on.>

Lemme think...is this about my job?

<It's not THAT easy! Work?!? You really think that 
all this is about your damn work, don't you?>

I dunno.

<Sure. Fine. Whatever.>

I have really no idea. Enlighten me!

<I can't. I've told you that I can't.>

A clue? A tiny clue? C'mon, help me!

<You're curious huh?>

That's ridiculous! I'm chatting with a voice which 
claims to be my conscience. That's bad, very BAD. 
This is the first step before being proclaimed 
insane!

<Hey, you're insulting me now! Or better, YOU are 
insulting YOURSELF!>

Prove it! Prove to me that I'm not crazy.

<You're not. Geez, how can Mulder put up with a 
woman like you?>

Mulder? What does this have anything to do with 
Mulder?

<Nothing. Here, we're losing the track. Tell me why 
you're not completely happy.>

Clue?

<AAARGGS! Ok, I'll help you. Why do you do what you 
do?>

What a silly question! Because I want it.

<Yeah?>

Yep. Really. I'm not lying on this one.

<I haven't said a word!>

NOW, I'm tired. I DON'T want to listen to you! This 
conversation, if it is even a conversation, is 
OVER.

<Hit a nerve, haven't I?>

Go away.

<Don't you want to answer that one honestly? Fine. 
I have another question ready for you. Why did you 
choose to be a doctor? You've got plenty of 
possibilities and you've taken that particular 
path. Why?>

Cuz the dream of my life was to be a doctor! It 
always has been, it is and it always will be.

It seems that my answer silenced that irritating 
voice, but I have a strange feeling...

<Wrong answer! I'll ask it again. Why did you 
choose to be a doctor?>

Oh God, this is not happening...I simply reject the 
idea of this entire situation! THIS-IS-NOT-
HAPPENING. I don't want to think about that
question...I don't!

IT, the voice, is going to speak again and reveal 
me something I definitely don't want to be aware 
of.

<Why? I'll tell you why! Because deep down your 
soul you know the truth and you're hiding it beyond 
the so called dream-of-my-life. You're hiding it as 
you always do. You hide your thoughts, your 
feelings, and your emotions. You're lying to 
yourself if you try to deny THIS.>

That hurt! It hurt so badly.

<WHY?>

Geez, is this the ONLY fucking word you know?!

Alright. Maybe it's not the dream of my life, but 
when I was younger I thought it was.

<Maybe??>

Ok, you're right. I wasn't so sure of my choice 
then.

<So, why did you become a MD if you weren't so 
sure?>

Because, everybody EXPECTED this from me! I was the 
good responsible girl, the obedient daughter, the 
excellent student, the loyal friend. Jesus 
EVERYBODY, every single person who knew me, was 
persuaded that I was going to do great things in my 
life. My parents, my relatives and all my teachers 
were pressuring me, kinda of pushing me, when I had 
to make that final decision. So I picked up the 
first course described in the info-pamphlet of the 
university just to make all of them shut up. I just 
wanted to be left in peace! That's all I wanted! 
Happy now that I spit everything out?


Silence.

Oh, finally it has left me in peace! Now sleep!

My body screams that it needs, it really needs, 
rest; my mind also shares the same opinion. I 
simply ignore the pounding, which is growing
more and more intense with every minute, in my 
head. I turn so that now I'm on my left side and 
close my eyes for the millionth time tonight.
Maybe now I can finally reach dreamland. Maybe.

After few seconds I'm uncomfortable. I turn over 
with a fluid movement and I find myself in a fetal 
position: my legs are curled up so that my knees 
are touching my stomach, and my hands grasp my 
knees tightly as to protect me from an invisible 
and powerful enemy that I don't know. I stay still, 
I have to. If I move, I'm sure that something will 
happen. I know that the voice will come back and I 
don't want that. Suddenly my heart takes speed...I 
don't know why...Oh, well, I can imagine why, but I
don't want to go there...I don't want to go where my 
thoughts can lead me. I don't want to analyze the 
implications of my previous confession. I scared 
the hell out of myself!

Anyway, I can't control what's happening in my 
contorted mind. I CAN'T control it, and this scares 
me more than I've ever, EVER, thought it would.
I always knew that I am a person who NEEDS to take 
under control everything, but I've never realized 
how important it is for me! What if I start to lose 
this link to sanity and then never be able to 
regain it? Dana stop this NOW.

<You can't!>

Goooooooodammit! It's back again. Leave me ALONE.

<I can't.>

Pleeease.

I'm screaming inside, but only a sigh escapes from 
my mouth. I don't want to analyze, rationalize, and 
dissect my very deep thoughts. I don't want to. 
Please. Not tonight. I'm not ready yet.

<Yes, you are. It's to easy say, "I'm not ready," 
and wash your hands of it. You can't carry on like 
this. You can't and I know that you know it, too.>

What if I like my life the way it is? What if I DO 
want to carry on like this?

<Don't sham with me. Be frank.>

Now my head spins, and definitely throbs like hell. 
It seems that there's a huge hammer pounding inside 
my brain and it's NOT going to stop.

I begin to shiver uncontrollably when I suddenly 
realize ALL the implications I feared previously.

My God, I've lived someone else's life!! Lord help 
me. Why is this happening? That's a nightmare. It 
must be. I couldn't have been such an idiot! Darn 
you, stupid brain of mine! Why am I such a fucking 
thinker? 
That's not my life! I am not MYSELF. Help me-Help 
me-Help me. All my existence, everything, 
EVERYTHING is a well staged play! It's all fake!
I've been a puppet in somebody's else's hands... No, 
that's not true. All I've done, I've done it by 
myself; all the decisions I've taken, I've taken 
them by myself. Sure, I've conducted this way 
because I didn't want to upset anyone, and I was 
willing to be the one my parents and friends were 
proud of. Jesus, I'm still behaving that way!! What 
can I do now? How can I fix this? NIGHTMARE. It's a 
nightmare! Dana, wake up!

This awareness is nearly killing me. I was fine 
when I was "blind". I was okay. I was. Really. Now, 
no more, and I don't know what to do.

Silence again. An unbearable silence.

Ok, I wasn't very happy, but I wasn't so much sad. 
This sudden revelation has been like an earthquake, 
a tornado in my head and it has destroyed 
absolutely everything I had: my identity, my 
beliefs, and my dreams. My whole world is cracking 
before my eyes and I can't stop it. I want to stop 
it RIGHT NOW.

<It's useless!>

Damn it. Shut up!

<It's like a waterfall after the glacier is melt! 
You can't stop it! You CAN'T>

Shut UP!

<It's not a tap you can turn off. It doesn't work 
that way!>

I said, SHUT UP!

<It doesn't work that way!>

AHHHHHHHHH! Go away.

<Fine! Try to sleep then, but I doubt you can!>

My eyes are still closed, but I'm not quiet. I 
shift position another time. Jesus, I can't count 
how many times I'm repeating the same gesture.
It's a deja vu, a bad deja vu. Now, I'm prone, yet 
I'm not at ease like this. I turn again. Ok, now? 
Nope. I'm laying on my back while I'm trying to 
figure out why I still hear that annoying voice. 
Geez, this position isn't right either. I'm tossing 
and turning again like earlier this evening. I just 
can't be still. The pillow is pressed on my head so 
that maybe the mantra that the voice is repeating 
can cease, but it doesn't work. How ironic? The 
voice is telling me that it doesn't work this way, 
that sleep is out of question and it's right. It 
has been right from the beginning of this absurd 
"one-sided" conversation in my mind.

I kick the blankets off and expose my frame to the 
gloom. I shudder. It's too cold inside this room, 
and it's impossible. I mean before going to sleep I 
checked out the heater and it was ok. I'm sure
that the temperature here is a tolerably warm one, 
yet my teeth are chattering.

A thought hits my mind: maybe the cold is inside of 
me.

I shake my head in resignation. This night is going 
to be one I won't forget soon. Perhaps, I'll never 
be able to put it out of my mind.

I hitch the coverlet up and pull the blanket 
tighter around me. I roll in a sort of blanket-
body-sandwich; I'm squeezed because of the cover
but it doesn't matter. This is the only way I know 
to feel fine, protected, and warm.

<And you know WHY?!?>

Not again!! Please. I'm dog-tired.

I'm so tired, so very, very tired, and not only 
physically. I'm tired of being so uncertain, of 
being afraid, of being not myself. I'm trying to
protect myself from pain, but what kind of life is 
this? You can't call it life because it isn't. 
It's...it's...I don't know how to define it. That's
not fair! I don't want to suffer, that's the 
reality, but I want to live.

I want to live, love and being loved, yet I can't 
have these things if I don't risk, right? Geez, 
it's hard. And frustrating! I long to sleep.

<Mind you, I'm going to tell you the remaining 
truth. Pay attention! It's about the way you 
sleep!>

WHAT? You're kidding.

<Nope. I'm serious. You always fall asleep in that 
peculiar (and quite funny I add) position. You grip 
the covers so firmly that your knuckles turn white. 
It's like your life depends on that grasp; have you 
ever noticed that?>

So what? I sleep in a odd way, that's all. There's 
nothing to analyze here.

<Oh, YES, there is! And the reason beyond such a 
behavior as this is a very significant one!>

Damn it. You're NOT going to psychoanalyze the way 
I sleep! It's CRAZY. You have been psychoanalyzing 
me ALL night! And YOU-ARE-NOT-FREUD. Now, shut up 
once and for all!

<Huh huh, kinda of nervous tonight!>

Nervous? NERVOUS?!? You caused this! that's all 
your fault! If you had kept hidden your "truths" 
I'd been sleeping and dreaming peacefully!
But NO, you had to blurt it all out!

<I had to. That's my job. Are you ready for the 
final piece of truth?>

C'mon, strike the last blow! I'm already harmless, 
but do it! Hit me again! After all, there's nothing 
left of me!

<Don't be overdramatic! I'm revealing you all this 
just to let you become a better person! It's for 
your own sake!>

Let me understand THIS: you've destroyed me only to 
make me a better person?!?

<Exactly! Now you can re-invent yourself, and you 
can change your life! Exciting, isn't it?>

Great, just GREAT. My conscience is crazier than my 
conscious self!

<Sure. Fine. Whatever. If this is what you want to 
believe, it's ok with me. You can also hate me, but 
things are as I described them to you.
These are facts, not inferences!>

Facts??

<Yep, facts. Take the way you sleep, for example, 
this is a fact!>

I don't understand.

<You don't want to. It's so clear! You wrap 
yourself so tightly in that blanket because in your 
sick mind you imagine that it isn't a simple 
blanket. You imagine that it is someone whose arms 
are around you. That's WHY you feel safe in that 
position.>

That's madness. Pure and simple madness. I usually 
fall asleep like this because covers are meant for 
sheltering you from cold. Never heard about this 
theory? I know that maybe it seems odd to you, but 
that's reality, and that's the reason.

<C'mon, you're lying! Even when it is 98 degrees 
outside you snuggle down the bedclothes and pull 
them around you that way!>

So what? I'm a chilly mortal.

<Open your eyes, for God's sake! There's something 
missing in your life. Can't you see? I'll tell you 
this once! So, please, listen carefully! You wrap 
the covers that way because you  desperately need 
to feel the contact with something...Something that 
reminds you of an embrace. Well, you actually need 
a close contact with a human being; you need to be
touched, caressed, and cuddled. You deserve this 
and you are willing to be loved. There's no need to 
pretend that you are strong in any circumstance 
whatsoever... No need. Be yourself. Let someone enter 
in your life, and in your heart. It's more painful 
living like this, loveless, alone, than taking a 
little risk of exposing yourself. You'll see. 
You'll feel alive and free if only you let him in.>

Him?

<Yes, him. You know who I'm talking about. Now 
sleep. Nighty night.>

Now, wait a damn minute! Who's him? Hey, you there?

The voice faded away as silently as it came. I know 
for sure that it won't come back tonight and 
although it has left me with more questions than
answers. I'm feeling as light as a feather. A 
decade has passed since I last felt this way. The 
cold is gone as well as my angst. I don't know.
The whole atmosphere has changed...I perceive 
sweetness all around and darkness isn't as scary as 
it was few hours ago. It's true, hard days will 
come seeing that I have to change a bit my 
lifestyle, but I don't want to think about that 
now. I'm going to sleep; I still have few hours
before going to work.

I close my eyes and I'm overwhelmed by a warm 
breeze. An image is forming in my mind. I can't 
distinguish what it is... No, wait, it's not a what,
it's a who... A man... It's a man. Even if I can't see 
his face clearly, I know who the man is. I could 
recognize his features among thousand faces!
He's tall, and a lock of rebellious hair falls on 
his forehead. His eyes...God, his hazel eyes can 
drive me crazy. I could sink into them and never
come back. How many times have I looked in them and 
saw his soul? Countless.
He doesn't know, but when he's reading a file or 
searching for something in his dusty archive I 
stare at him paying attention so as not to be
caught by him in one of these moments of mesmerized 
meditation. He's so sweet with me and never ceases 
to amaze me. I was a stupid! I should have noticed 
this before. I take a deep breath and now his face, 
my partner's face, is in the foreground. While I'm 
falling in a restorative slumber I realize one 
important thing: I love him.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
So, how's that? Good? Bad? Unreadable? Let me know.

Oh and when I wrote the end of this story I was 
thinking of Mulder, not Doggett, MULDER! 

Want me to write "A sleepless night 2: love 
afflictions"? If so contact me here 
Blueocean80@yahoo.it