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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

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Writings: I Dream in Color
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Vignette, Angst, Scully journal entry, Mulder/Scully UST

Rated PG

Spoilers through "The Red and the Black"

Summary: Scully tries to work out the meaning of a dream
by writing in her journal.

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Writings: I Dream in Color
by shannono


11 April 1998

I dream in color.

This might come as a surprise to some people, since full-
color dreams are supposed to be a sign of a vivid imagination
and great creativity. Neither is a trait often ascribed to me.

Yet still, I dream in color. Bright, vivid hues, clearer than
reality in most cases. True colors, bigger and better than
life.

My dreams are standard for the most part, I suppose. I dream
of people from my past and present, and probably some from
my future, if I believed that sort of thing. Yes, I dream of
Mulder, even occasionally in settings that could be
interpreted as erotic. That shouldn't surprise anyone, even
him, considering the many hours we spend together, and our
lack of any real social attachments. I'm sure he dreams of
me, too. But we're professionals, and friends, so we choose
to ignore what we see in those dreams.

Lately, though, I've been having one particular dream quite
regularly. It started a couple of years ago, although I can't
quite figure out what set it off. I had it every few months
at first, but it's started coming closer and closer together.

The dream is very much the same each time. I am driving a
familiar car down a familiar road, though both change from
one time to the next and neither is fully recognizable. I am
not alone in the car, and while some part of my mind is aware
of who the passenger is, this knowledge never quite reaches
the surface. I suppose Mulder would be the most logical
choice, but I'm never quite sure in the dream.

Anyway, as the dream begins, I have been driving for some
time, and I can see storm clouds starting to gather in the
distance. I drive on, a bit uneasy at the changing weather
but unwilling to stop quite yet.

Soon, I am driving through a rainstorm, with wind and hail
buffeting the car. I slow slightly in deference to the wet
pavement, but I drive on. Through all this, my companion is
silent, willing to let me choose our course.

Then I hear a telltale roar, and I see the spinning cloud
approaching from the side, on track to intersect my path. I
am faced with a choice. I can stop where I am and let the
storm pass us by, or I can plow straight ahead and let the
storm strike us or not, as it will.

At this point, I either awaken or "switch channels" to
another dream. If I awaken, I am not afraid; rather, I am
curious as to what decision I should make.

Rationally, I know what need to be done. Dreams are our
minds' way of helping us work out problems our conscious
minds struggle with. Any psychologist would say that when
I work out the "real-life" conflict behind the dream, it
will fade away.

All well and good. The only problem is, I don't know what
conflict I'm supposed to be working out.

I've thought about it quite a bit, especially in recent
months, because the dream has begun popping up even more
often, to the point that I'm having it at least once a week.
But I still can't figure out a trigger.

I've been checking into "tornado dream" interpretations, out
of curiosity, of course, and most of them say a tornado
represents a fear of losing control. Well, I guess that fits
me pretty well. But the question remains, what am I afraid
I'll lose control *of*?

Okay, I'm going to go through this logically, starting with
some basic assumptions. I'm going to assume that my passenger
in the dream is Mulder, because he is the one person I have
been closest to since the dream began. I am driving in the
dream, which I don't do all that often when we're on a case.
This makes me think it is not entirely a professional
problem I'm dealing with.

In the dream, I am in control. I am driving the car; I am
choosing our route; and I am left with the choice of what
to do when the tornado appears. My companion -- Mulder --
offers me no assistance. Why is this? Normally, he's
offering more help than I want or need, like he did while
I was in Maine. What is holding him back?

All right. What does he *not* talk to me about? Well, that
would be mostly personal things. Unless something happens
that involves both of us, or our work -- like Emily -- we
don't talk about our personal lives very often. But then,
we don't talk about our personal beliefs much, either, and
I know his are changing, or at least on shaky ground. He
did tell me that much.

So, I guess those are my choices. The storm represents a
loss of control, which I have in this case. The car
represents me and Mulder, our relationship as partners and
friends; the road, the path we follow together. Now, am I
dealing with our professional path, or our personal path?

Okay, I'll go with professional first. I know Mulder has
lost some of his passionate belief in the existence of
extraterrestrials, as a result of the things he has seen
during the past year or so. I, on the other hand, have
against all logic found myself wondering if there might be
EBEs after all, as a result of the things *I've* seen.

At first glance, this sounds like progress in our partnership.
We are starting to move toward the middle, each of us
loosening our grip on our staunch beliefs and opening our
minds to other interpretations.

Only problem is, we don't know how to deal with it. Our
partnership is built on the delicate balance between my hard
science and Mulder's extreme possibilities. That balance is
shifting, and if we're not careful, the whole thing will
come tumbling down around us, leaving us lying broken in
the ruins.

That scenario is plausible, but it doesn't quite fit the
dream. I simply don't have that much control over our
partnership. And if it was professional, I feel sure Mulder
would have *something* to say about our course. He's not
afraid to contradict me on the job. That's one of the main
reasons our partnership has worked so well. We thrust and
parry, point and counterpoint, until we've hashed out nearly
every option from nearly every angle and arrived on some
sort of consensus, no matter how tenuous.

So I don't think it's our partnership. That just leaves our
personal relationship, and here's where things get sticky.
We aren't supposed to *have* a personal relationship. Not
beyond friendship, anyway, and even then only because we
don't have time -- or trust  -- to spare for friends other
than each other.

Problem is, we *do* have a personal relationship beyond
friendship. Or, at least, we *would*, if it wasn't so
dangerous, both literally and figuratively. We are well
matched, despite outward appearances, and we know and
understand each other better than anyone else would ever
be able to. With everything we've been through, we're
meshed so tightly together that neither of us could break
free without destroying us both.

So let's assume that the car is our relationship, and the
storm the uncertain outcome of any romantic involvement
between us. That would make sense. But I still don't know
why I'm driving and Mulder's keeping quiet. Shouldn't he
be having a say in this, too?

Unless he already has, and I just haven't realized it.

There have been a few signs that things have changed. I
expected his concern and protectiveness after my cancer
diagnosis, even if it irritated me sometimes, so that
wasn't out of the ordinary. But then when I was in the
hospital that last time, just before my remission, he was
right by my side, more than I ever thought he would be.
And he was constantly touching me, kissing my cheek and
hand, as if he thought each visit would be the last. I
guess he was afraid it might be. I know I was.

After my recovery, though, I thought things would be right
back to normal, and they weren't. He was still solicitous,
more considerate than even after my diagnosis. And the
gentle teasing and innuendos were back, stronger than ever,
enough that I found myself responding without even realizing
it.

And I liked it.

But then came Emily, and he pulled back again. I know, I
pushed him away in the hospital that night, but I was so
glad he was there. He dropped everything when I called and
came out almost immediately, and he was right there the
whole time. He was wonderful with Emily, and I could tell
how much he cared about her from the first time he saw her.

I know her death hurt him, too. But I was so wrapped up in
my own grief, for Emily and my own lost chances, that it
took a while for me to see his pain. And by then, we'd
moved on, and I hated to bring it up and reopen those
wounds.

Now, things are back like they were before the cancer, at
least on the surface. We tease a bit, our own version of
flirting, I guess, just like any other male and female
coworkers would do. But there's always an undercurrent of
something else there.
 
I've wondered why he hasn't broached the subject. He's
usually the one to confront our demons, and I'm usually
the one trying to avoid the conflicts. And I've caught him
looking at me sometimes and was sure he was going to
bring it up. But he's keeping his mouth shut about this.

Maybe that's the answer. Maybe he's leaving this one up to
me, and that's what my dream is trying to tell me.

So I'll fill in the dream that way. The car is our personal
relationship; the road, the path we're on; the storm, the
uncertainty of what a romantic involvement would mean to us.
I am driving and Mulder is silent, because he has given over
control of this ride to me. And I must choose to confront
the storm and risk it tearing us apart, or stop us where we
are, safe.

Safe, but alone.