Dreamcatcher 20
Ally

Dreamcatcher. Time unknown.

Scully stumbled back as the swirling vortex of sand and pebbles came toward her, trying to see through its shifting wall for a glimpse of what she knew lay within.

*Mulder.*

He was inside. She could hear his horrified screams reverberating inside her head, and despite her fear she forced herself to remain where she stood.

He had come for her and she had let him be hurt.

Scully didn't pretend to understand the hows and whys, but he had been there before her, reaching out to her, trying to help her, and now he was *hurting*. Because of her.

The sound of the sand became deafening as it edged closer to her, so close now that Scully could feel the pinpricks of pain as the tiny grains were flung at her skin, cutting into her flesh like a thousand ferocious insect stings. But still she remained, a picture of stillness, until eventually she reached out a trembling hand to touch the wall of the vortex.

For just a second the ground shifted as the force of the swirling mass threatened to knock her off her feet, sucking her outstretched arm into its center.

And then it was gone. Just like that.

Scully blinked stupidly, mouth dropping open as her surroundings once again swirled and changed, soft grass replacing the warm sand beneath her feet. Blue skies once again taking the place of the thunderclouds.

Peaceful. Tranquil. *Dangerous*.

She spun around suddenly, eyes frantically searching the surrounding area even as the scream began to build in her throat.

"Mullllderrrr?"

Oh dear God, where was he?

How could he just disappear like that?

And then a sudden terrible thought began to clamor for attention inside her head, and Scully sank to her knees on the grassy carpet, even as she attempted to deny the truth.

{Chewed up and spit out.}

An image of tissue and blood and bone appeared unbidden behind her eyes and she slammed them shut in an effort to dispel the fear that now hammered at her. She dropped her hands to the ground, supporting her weight, as she began to retch violently, realization hitting her.

{He's dead. Oh God, he's *dead*. He's dead because of *me*.}

"He's not dead, Dana."

Scully shook her head, ignoring the voice. "Leave me alone. Please leave me alone..."

And then a hand, small, delicate, grasping her shoulder carefully. "He's not dead. I promise."

{Felicia?}

"Yes."

{You can hear my thoughts?}

"Yes."

The child sounded calm, serene even, and suddenly Scully was gripped with an anger so fierce it overtook everything else. Shrugging the child's hand from where it rested on her, Scully shot to her feet and rounded upon her, eyes flashing like twin lasers as she faced down a child who was almost as tall as her.

Tall maybe. But a *child* nonetheless.

"Who are you? What the hell do you want with us?"

Felicia took a step backwards, gazing at Scully imploringly, blue eyes filling with tears as she fought to form words. "I want...I just want you to make it stop."

"Make *what* stop?"

She didn't answer immediately, letting her gaze wander around the beauty that surrounded them. "It used to always be like this. Beautiful like this. Until...until..." Felicia shook her head numbly as tears began to spill, her face crumpling with an expression of such grief, of such hopelessness, that Scully involuntarily took a step closer and laid her hands on the child's shaking shoulders.

"Until what?" she probed gently.

Felicia tilted her face until she could gaze up at the woman. Her mouth worked soundlessly around the sobs that wracked her body, quivering violently beneath Scully's touch.

"Felicia?"

Felicia reached up a hand and swiped at the tears on her face. A futile gesture as they were immediately replaced by more. But the action had allowed her to regain a small measure of composure. Her voice when it finally came was flat. Toneless. "Before I killed my father."

**********

Eeazy Sleep Motel. May 5th 1999 7:20p.m.

"You know how crazy you sound, I assume?"

Skinner regarded the younger man before him wearily, wondering how the hell he was going to convince Mulder that the answer to all this lay in the here and now. That no amount of outlandish theories or leaps of logic were going to bring them even one step closer to finding Scully.

He had listened with incredulous wonder as Mulder recounted the events in his "dream," trying as he did so to keep his expression carefully neutral. He'd seen Mulder behave this way before, and while he was prepared to admit that sometimes in the past he had been unable to reconcile certain aspects of the cases his two agents worked on, he certainly wasn't about to give credence to this...this *fairytale*.

He waited for an answer to his question, and when none was forthcoming he leaned closer to Mulder. "Agent Mulder? Did you hear what I said?"

Mulder raised his eyes from where they had been fixed upon the Dreamcatcher he held in his grasp, stilling the fingers that had been tracing patterns across its surface ever since he had awoken from the nightmare. Skinner was once again rocked by how tired the other man looked. The dark shadows beneath Mulder's eyes, however, seemed irrelevant as he faced Skinner. His eyes glittered with intensity, with a stubborn unshakeable belief in what he knew to be true. It was a look that Skinner had come to know well. A look that told him everything he needed to know. Mulder was focused on his goal. Nothing else mattered to him.

"I heard what you said."

Skinner sighed heavily. "And?"

"And *what*, sir? You've made your position on this perfectly clear."

Mulder's tone was calm. Resigned even. But Skinner wasn't convinced. "That's all you have to say on the matter, Mulder? That's it? Just like that?"

Mulder shook his head, annoyed suddenly that this man before him, one of his most trusted allies, was behaving exactly the way that all the others did. So tied up in bureaucratic bullshit that they refused to open themselves up even the tiniest bit to a theory that lay beyond the normal conventions of scientific fact.

"You don't believe me. You give no credence to what I'm saying, so what's the point in me even trying to convince you?"

Skinner snorted. "It's never stopped you in the past!"

Mulder allowed just the ghost of a smile to play across his lips at his superior's words. "No, you're right. It never stopped me in the past. But this is different."

"Different how?"

Mulder dropped the Dreamcatcher to the floor, following its descent with his eyes before slowly getting to his feet. He ignored the aches the action brought about as he turned away from Skinner and headed in the direction of the bathroom. His voice floated back as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Because I'm the only one who can help her. Stay or go, it's your choice."

Skinner leaned back in the chair and wearily passed a hand across his face. Mulder's tone was verging on being insubordinate and he knew that he should feel far more aggrieved than he actually did.

Perhaps with any other agent under his control he wouldn't have let it pass. But Mulder was different. Skinner knew that Mulder had long since stopped allowing himself to be concerned about how others viewed him. His superior agent was no exception to that rule.

It would be easy to just get up and walk out of the room. Easy to return to the real world. Easy to bury himself in actually *investigating* this thing along with the twenty or so other fine agents who were currently employed doing just that.

Easy, yes. Constructive, no.

Because try as he might, he couldn't help being intrigued by what Mulder so vehemently insisted was true.

Even more so when something on the bed caught his eye. Rising to his feet he crossed over to the bed, his eyes widening as he pinched between his thumb and forefinger a small amount of the substance that lay within the folds of the rumpled sheets.

{Sand? How the hell did *sand* get in here?}

He didn't bother to find the answer. Instead he simply went back to his seat and lowered himself shakily, attempting to get comfortable.

Something told him it was going to be a long night.

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