Dreamcatcher 10
Ally

Coroner's Office, Cleveland, Ohio May 4th 10:13a.m.

Scully settled her gaze on the chipped, pitted surface of the wooden table top.

The Cleveland Coroner's office wasn't big enough to house an employee dining area as such, but this jumble of mismatched furniture surrounded by wall-mounted vending machines seemed to do the job pretty well. It was tucked away in a far corner of the building, and they had been ushered here by a worried looking lab assistant in response to Scully's absolute insistence that she was fine.

She was aware of Mulder's eyes on her. Even from his position behind her she could feel them, boring into her back like twin lasers.

He wasn't happy, and she shivered as she recalled the pitch of his voice as she had issued orders that he cancel his call for the EMTs. She had recovered quickly, and could see little point in having a paramedic tell her what she already knew.

A combination of a raging headache, too little sleep and no food for twenty-four hours had been the main contributory factors to her fainting, and no amount of argument from her partner was going to change that.

But he had been angry. Possibly more angry at her than she had ever seen, and despite being fully aware that much of that anger stemmed from the fact he was concerned, she hadn't liked it one bit.

It was amazing, Scully reflected ruefully, how quickly the curious onlookers had melted away when she and Mulder had started shouting at each other, leaving only the young lab guy to show them to this room. Even then, he had turned on his heel and practically run down the corridor to escape. No doubt she and Mulder would be the topic of hushed whispers for a few days to come.

Nothing new there.

"Here. Drink this."

Mulder set a steaming cup of something in front of Scully. She wasn't sure, but suspected the grayish, anemic-looking liquid *might* be tea. Corporate vending machines weren't generally known for their differentiating skills where drinks were concerned, and usually it was impossible to identify a beverage by sight alone. The last thing she felt like doing right now was to sit here under Mulder's scrutiny playing a game of *guess the drink*, but nevertheless she dutifully brought the cup to her lips, wincing as she got a first taste of the liquid.

Yep, it was tea all right, or some version thereof. It was hard to tell beneath the sweetness.

She set the cup down. "Mulder, there's sugar in this. I don't *take* sugar in drinks. You know that."

He shrugged, his face almost devoid of emotion as he struggled to keep his anger in check. He didn't fool Scully. Too much time spent around this man when he was wrestling with his emotions had taught her that an expressionless face usually meant anything but.

"I figured you could use the carbohydrates."

Scully narrowed her eyes. Was he purposely baiting her? Trying to provoke another argument? She sighed. No. If anything, he sounded more worried than angry, and besides, another screaming match would achieve absolutely nothing. Each as stubborn as the other, neither one would be prepared to back down.

Scully insisting she was *fine*. Mulder insisted equally as vehemently that she patently *wasn't*. A no-win situation.

They'd been there before.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly and forced herself to take another sip of the burning liquid.

The silence stretched uncomfortably between them as Mulder drummed his fingers on the hard surface. Finally, he rocked back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

"Dreamcatcher?"

Scully frowned. "What?"

"*Dreamcatcher*. It's what you said to me before you passed out. I wondered why."

Dreamcatcher? She'd said that? Scully dragged her mind back. She remembered being in the autopsy bay, remembered looking down at the remains of Elizabeth Armstrong. Suddenly feeling as though the world had tilted on its axis, and then...

*Nothing*.

Just a blank space until she had opened her eyes in response to her partner's voice as he cradled her in his arms, both of them on the floor. She assumed he'd laid her down there when she lost consciousness.

Dreamcatcher?

She shook her head slightly, the confusion all too evident on her face. "I have no idea. No clue as to why I might have said that."

By the look on Mulder's face, it was obvious that he hadn't expected anything different from her. Because he plainly didn't understand it either.

"Why?" she prompted. "Do you think it means something?"

Mulder almost smiled at her earnestness. There was a time when Scully wouldn't even have asked him that question. So rigidly had she been bound by the constraints of science that to even entertain the notion that the word *might* have some significance to the case wouldn't have even entered her mind.

But things changed. Dana Scully had changed.

Slowly but surely, he had seen her loosen her grip on the hope that everything could be explained rationally, within the realm of the tangible. And while he never expected or wanted her to totally let go of her pragmatic approach, it was heartening to see the way her mind had opened as a result of all they had seen over the past six years.

Dreamcatcher.

He rolled the word around his mind. Tested it. Made it his. Certainly, he was intrigued, although at the same time he knew that it could just be a random coincidence. A reaction to the case? To what they had seen? To the legend he had lulled her to sleep with the night before?

To all those things?

Even so. It was strange.

"I don't know," he admitted eventually, glancing at his watch as he did so. "But one thing's for certain. We aren't going to get anything answered by just sitting here."

Scully nodded, and drained the last of the tea, attempting not to grimace in disgust as the sugary dregs passed over her tongue. Mulder watched her, satisfied for now that she had at least backed down enough to do as he had asked.

If only everything were as simple as persuading her to take sugar in her drinks.

But it was a start. Albeit a small victory.

"Better?"

She nodded.

"Much. And Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

Dropping her eyes, she reached across the table and briefly grasped his fingers, squeezing gently before releasing them again. "Thanks. I'm sorry I went off at you. I'm tired, I guess."

Mulder blinked stupidly. An admission? From Scully? Jeez, this day was going to go down in history, and for a second he wished he had a tape recorder so he might capture the moment forever. Just for all the future instances when he would ask her how she was and she would reply without really thinking about it. Just so he could depress the playback button to remind her that sometimes it was OK to admit she felt like crap.

"You sure you're OK now?" he repeated, almost laughing out loud as her answer automatically fell from her lips.

"I'm fine."

**********

Brackenhurst Learning Facility for Extraordinary Children, Cleveland, Ohio 11:01a.m.

Leaving his partner to continue with her aborted attempts to analyze Elizabeth Armstrong's remains, Mulder had taken a quick side trip back to the motel before piloting the rental car the thirty-minute drive to the school.

An idea had been formulating in his mind, nothing specific, just random threads that seemed to tickle his senses, reaching out to him to be heard.

*Dreamcatcher*.

It had taken him a few minutes to locate the charm. Scully's room had been in a minor state of disarray from the events of the previous night. But after a few minutes of hurried searching, he had found what he was looking for.

The Dreamcatcher had lain, half concealed between the edge of the bed and the discarded comforter, probably in the same place it had fallen when Scully had tumbled out of bed in the grip of the nightmare.

And in all honesty, he had almost forgotten that it existed at all. Until an hour ago in the autopsy bay when his frightened partner had reminded him. Hearing the single word spill from her lips before she had collapsed against him had made him recoil slightly. And even then, he hadn't really made any connection. His only thought had been on the woman before him.

But now, as his mind had settled once again on the case at hand, he had time to re-evaluate his earlier dismissal.

He wasn't sure what, if anything, he was hoping to discover by making a return trip to the school, but he had a strong hunch that there was more to all this than met the eye. Having spoken to Skinner just a scant few minutes before, he had been uncomfortably aware that he had nothing of any significance to report to his superior and hadn't missed the terseness directed at him because of this.

Skinner, on the whole, was a sympathetic ally toward their work. But he expected results. Results that right now, Mulder was aware that he wasn't even halfway to providing.

Turning his attention back to the here and now, Mulder rolled the car to a halt in front of the impressive building. The bright sunshine did little to lessen its air of importance and, if anything, it seemed even more of a looming presence than it had last night.

The tasseled bell pull swung gently in the breeze, as if issuing an invitation to him. Never one to stand on ceremony, Mulder grasped it firmly. Unlike last night, however, no smiling child was there to greet him. Instead he found himself confronted with the pinched, white face of Julia Brackenhurst.

"Agent Mulder...I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting..." She trailed off wearily and stood aside for him to enter.

The large, opulent vestibule seemed hushed. Empty somehow.

Last night he had not been surprised by the silence, given the relative lateness of the hour. But today he had expected to see evidence of the school's unique teaching system at work.

Julia caught his look and sighed heavily. "I had the students' parents pick them up this morning. After what happened last night, they didn't need much persuading."

She sounded defeated. Used up. The voice of a woman who has seen her dreams crumble to dust before her eyes. And although Mulder could understand her reasoning in trying to protect her young charges, her news was neither welcomed nor expected.

"They're gone? *All* of them?"

Julia shook her head slightly. "No, not all. Most, but not all. As I explained to you and Agent Scully yesterday, some of the students here have had their share of problems. Not all of them have parents to go back *to*. This is their home. They have nowhere else to go."

Mulder breathed again. OK, so he wasn't exactly batting a thousand here, but it was a start.

"OK. Would it be possible to have a few minutes with each of them? I need to ask them a few questions, if you have no objections."

"Questions? Agent Mulder, they're just children. Extraordinary children, intelligent children, but just *children* nonetheless. What could you possibly hope to learn from them?"

Mulder shrugged, the answer to her question unclear even to him. He attempted to answer her as best he could. "I don't know. But in my experience, children sometimes have far more to tell us than we realize."

He watched the woman closely as she sized him up. Clearly disturbed by the notion that any of her young charges might be able to shed any light on the horrific occurrences of the last week, she was not yet prepared to dismiss his request out of hand.

Eventually, her expression cleared slightly even if her tone of voice was full of doubt. "OK. Wait in the sitting room. I'll go and round them up for you."

************

A little over an hour later, Mulder was almost ready to admit defeat. One after the other, the children had been summoned into the sitting room to perch opposite him on the edge of a large, overstuffed leather sofa.

He had questioned them carefully, quietly, ever conscious of Julia's hovering presence. He had tried hard not to make direct references to the Dreamcatcher he held in his hand, not wanting to lead them in any way. But even when his frustration had gotten the better of him and he brought their attention to it, all he got in return was a series of blank expressions.

Ranging in ages from six to thirteen, the half dozen girls he had spoken to were charming, polite, precocious. But of no help to him whatsoever.

He rubbed a hand across his face wearily. Only one child left. He wasn't holding out much hope that she would be any different from the others and he wondered briefly whether Scully was having any more luck back at the morgue. She had promised to call him as soon as the results were back on the tissue samples she had collected. He didn't expect to hear from her anytime soon. Even with all the might and fury of the FBI behind her, it was unlikely she would be able to get the wheels turning in her favor much before midafternoon at the earliest.

*Midafternoon*.

Christ. Another wasted day.

One child dead, another two unaccounted for, and he and Scully were no closer to even beginning to explain it.

Frustrated? Mulder didn't even want to go there.

He dropped his hand back down to rest loosely in his lap as Julia guided the last child in to the room. She seemed younger than any of the others. Julia's hands on her shoulders almost covered them completely. Less self-assured than the other girls, she regarded him shyly, huge blue eyes peeping out from behind a fringe of windswept red curls as she scrambled up onto the sofa.

He couldn't help but smile. She looked like a miniature version of Scully. Or how Mulder imagined she looked when she was a kid. Of course, Scully probably wouldn't be sitting demurely before him. She would have been dragged kicking and screaming from the garden still clutching onto a recently dissected worm, tracking mud through the house.

He had no doubts whatsoever that his partner had been a tomboy. You only had to look at her today to make that particular connection.

The smile still playing across his lips, he leaned forward slightly. "Hi. My name's Mulder. You wanna tell me who you are?"

The child before him began to twirl a few strands of hair around her fingers, as though attempting to make it even curlier, regarding him for long moments before answering.

"I'm Caitlin Megan Briony Stevens. I'm six and a quarter. How old are you, Mulder? What's your real name? Are you really called Mulder?"

OK, maybe *shy* had been a slight misconception, Mulder decided ruefully before answering. "I'm thirty-eight. My full name is Fox William Mulder, but I like to be called Mulder."

"Why? Don't you like your real name? Fox is a nice name. I like foxes."

Mulder laughed, the irony not lost on him that he was answering a hell of a lot more questions than he was asking right now.

"No Caitlin, I don't much like my *real* name, so everyone just calls me Mulder."

Caitlin sighed theatrically. "I suppose it *is* kind of a stupid name," she observed solemnly. "I mean I like horses but I wouldn't want to named after one."

"Caitlin!"

Mulder held up a hand in response to Julia's rebuke. He liked this kid already. She reminded him more and more of Scully.

"It's OK," he assured her before directing his attention back towards the child. "So, Caitlin, may I ask you some questions?"

She nodded, noticing the Dreamcatcher for the first time. "Are you going to ask me about that?"

Mulder held his breath. "Do you know what it is?"

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Of *course* I know what it is. It's Fliss's..."

Julia stepped up closer, kneeling down so she was on a level with the child. "Fliss's? Caitlin honey I don't think so..."

Caitlin ignored her and kept her gaze riveted on Mulder. "It's *Fliss's*. She says it keeps us safe from the dark place. She gave it to Lilly when she got trapped there."

Mulder's stomach seemed to roll lazily at her words.

{Dreamcatcher.}

Don't lead her, Mulder. Just let it happen.

"Dark place? Where's the dark place? Have you been there?"

The room was silent, the atmosphere almost crackling with the kind of anticipation he had come to recognize when he was on the verge of breaking through a difficult case. So many pieces falling together at once, jostling for position in his sharp mind. Leading him. *Telling* him where to go.

And he watched transfixed as Caitlin bestowed a dazzling smile on him.

"Of course. We *all* have. Only most times it's nice. There are flowers there. It's pretty. I don't remember it much...only when it goes dark..."

The smile died on her face. As quickly as it appeared it vanished, dark storm clouds covering the sunshine of her pretty features and she scowled suddenly.

"...then I *always* remember...*

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