Dreamcatcher 22
Ally

Scully stood before Felicia, hands on hips and the irony didn't escape her that this was the exact same stance she used when trying to explain to Mulder just *why* they shouldn't be embarking on whatever outlandish journey he happened to have in mind for the day.

 She was aware of the child's earnest fact staring back at her and in this light, the coming of the night as dusk lay all around them she was struck once again by how delicate this girl was.

 The white blonde hair lay softly on her narrow shoulders, contrasting pleasantly with the battered denim shirt she wore and in the peculiar half light her skin seemed all the whiter, translucent even.

 But it was her eyes that really struck Scully as being remarkable. It wasn't just the color. After all, blue eyes were blue eyes and she herself had been blessed with them, but Felicia's eyes reminded her of Mulder's. Chameleon eyes that seemed to change their color at will. At one point, right in the beginning, her partner's eyes had unnerved her as they changed color a hundred times a day depending on his moods, moods which were both complex and unfathomable. Until that wonderful day when she was able to read him just by looking in to his eyes. The day that she was able to take a tiny glimpse in to the soul of this most complex of men. Mulder could hide his emotions skillfully. It was one of the most irritating aspects of his personality. He could keep his expressions firmly in check, allowing those around him to see only what he wished them to see. But like most people he had his own Achilles heel to contend with, because no matter how hard he tried he couldn't hide *everything*. At least not from those he loved. 

Scully had realised a long time ago that what he felt for her transcended mere friendship. That the bonds that bound them together were unbreakable, irrevocably tied together by the events they had experienced. Together for all eternity unless the unspeakable were allowed to happen. The prospect scared Scully more than she was prepared to admit, but lately, in the dark of the night she had lain in bed, staring at the patterns that the moonlight threw across the room and wondered just how she would go on should something happen to him. That he be taken away from her never to return. That he would die. That she would never again be allowed a glimpse at those beautiful, complex eyes that displayed a myriad of emotions. The she would never be allowed to really *see* him again.

<Oh God Mulder please be okay out there>

Lost in her thoughts Scully hardly noticed Felicia's statement harden, didn't notice that the child had clenched her hands in to fists that hung rigidly by her side. But her voice wasn't so easy to ignore. It hit Scully with the force of a bullet.

"Stop it!"

Scully looked around, mystified by this sudden outburst.

"Stop what?"

Felicia grabbed at her hand, digging her short nails in to Scully's skin just hard enough for her to cry out as the almost forgotten pain of the scalded flesh flared up once again in response to the assault.

"Stop thinking about *him*."

Scully snatched her hand away from Felicia's. Trying not to flinch as the violent action caused the healing flesh to open up again. She felt a wetness on her skin and realised that she had damaged it even more than it already was and a split second later the area began to burn as the burst blisters came in to contact with the cooling air around them. Scully's mouth dropped open as the realisation struck her.

"Before.....when I was in the other place, the place by the sea he came. He came because I was *thinking* about him. I *brought* him here with my thoughts didn't I?"

Felicia slammed her hands over her ears and backed away as all around her the wind began to blow, harder, with a ferocity that chilled Scully to the bone. It cut through the thin material of her flannel pyjamas that moulded themselves around her like a second skin. And yet the child before her seemed untouched by the force of the wind. It didn't seem to touch her as she raised her face heavenwards, screaming in to the skies, her voice turned hard, unforgiving with a ferocity that matched the elements around them.

"No! I won't let him take you away. I won't!"

She lunged forwards, catching hold of Scully's arm even as the wind began to scream around her and suddenly Scully was aware of nothing other than a deep, wracking pain that seemed to take over her whole existence. She had known pain before of course both physical and emotional but this was different. This was a pain that seemed to rip her apart until nothing else existed.

<I'm dying. Oh God I'm actually *dying*>

The thought was fleeting, replaced almost immediately by a feeling of hopelessness. A knowledge that her will was not her own anymore, that nothing she could do would change the situation here. Because she didn't hold any of the cards here.

*Felicia* did.

Inside of her she felt something irrevocably and viciously break free and with the last vestiges of awareness leaving her conscious mind, Scully drew upon all her strength to open her mouth and scream his name. Screaming out to Mulder. Praying that where ever he was right now he would hear her. That he would find her once again.

An image of him visited the recesses of her mind as she finally succumbed to the pain. A pain which sent his face tumbling from her head, replacing it with a dark nothingness as she crumpled to the ground.

Dreamcatcher May 5th 1999 Time unknown.

Mulder was aware of the sound of Skinner's breathing. The sound was comforting, regular, reminding him that he was still in the real world. But with the comfort came a resignation that this wasn't working. That despite himself he hadn't yet managed to fall asleep. He was still aware of the soft mattress beneath him. Of the weight of the thin blanket that he had covered himself loosely with. He had tried to will himself to relax. To fall in to the slumber he needed in order to find her.

To lose her now was unthinkable. To let her go with no explanation, with no knowledge of how to bring her back to him. After everything they had been through together to lose her this way filled him with horror. He remembered once, not so long ago when he had implored her not to leave him. To not walk away from everything they had fought so hard for. To stay by his side as she had always done. He had opened his heart to her in a way he had once imagined was an impossibility. He had stood in the dingy hallway of his apartment building, seen the hopelessness of the situation reflected in her eyes and *begged* her like he had never begged anyone in his life before. Because he had finally realised that if she walked away he was *nothing* anymore.

Such a sweet moment in their lives together when she had walked back toward him, raising her arms to cup his face in her hands as she pulled him towards her. Telling him without speaking, everything he needed to know. Promising him with her eyes that she would be with him for eternity.

Eternity had been so very short that day. Scant minutes before she had been taken from him once again. Leaving him alone to battle those who had taken her. Far across the oceans. They were meant to die that day. Mulder had known that they would expect him to go after her. That doing so would cost the both of them their lives. But, against all the odds they had once again prevailed, picked up the shattered remnants of their lives and once again carried on.

They hadn't spoken again of that shared moment in his hallway where they finally came together, allowing themselves to answer a need that had burned inside of them for so long, but Mulder knew that it would always be there. Simmering beneath the surface every moment of every day for the rest of their lives.

<Jesus Christ Scully, where *are* you?>

And then he heard it, faint at first, far in the distance. Her voice screaming his name. Seemingly coming from inside his head the sound grew ever louder until it blocked everything out and he shuddered involuntarily as just for a second he felt her pain. It invaded his very core, taking his breath away with it's ferocity, sending him spiralling downwards, falling through nothingness. Unable to breath as the fall stole the very air around him. And all the while her screaming grew louder. Surrounding him completely. And he surrendered to it. Willingly he allowed himself to go to her.

**********

Mulder had no idea as to how much time had passed. Had no concept even of what time *was* anymore. He had hit the ground hard, coming to rest in a heap as the sun beat down upon his head, warming his aching bones pleasantly. The instinct to remain asleep was a strong one inside of him as he hovered somewhere between sleep and wakefulness but other thoughts were beginning to push at him that were getting stronger all the time as they clamoured to be heard.

<Scully>

He groaned softly in response to the name, shaking his head slightly in an effort to clear it. He was aware of a warm stickiness around the area of his temple and without opening his eyes he gingerly brought his hand from beneath his body to trace a path to the source of the pain. The second his probing fingers made contact with the deep, open wound a thousand pinpricks of light assailed his senses, exploding in pain as he was finally dragged in to full wakefulness. His eyes snapped open and he swallowed down the acidic bile that had risen in his throat in response to the sudden shift in equilibrium.

He shook his head again and was finally rewarded as his eyes began to focus, allowing him to regain a measure of control and with it came the strength to raise himself up on one elbow. Almost immediately his gaze settled in a small group of grey rocks that protruded from the grass on which he lay. One of the rocks, the smaller of the group, was smeared with fresh blood. *His* blood and he realised that he must have struck his head as he landed.

"Great." He muttered as he realised by taking in his surroundings that the meadow in which he lay was, aside from the cluster of rocks, as smooth and unblemished as that of the surface of a billiard table.

Except...far in the distance, almost discernible against the short grass a flash of emerald green. Low to the ground. Unmoving.

<Scully>

Ignoring the pain, Mulder sprang to his feet in one fluid movement and began to trot towards it. He tried to push himself to run, but his limbs didn't seem to want to co-operate and he had to be content with the peculiar limping gait he seemed capable of. Despite this though he covered the ground remarkably quickly and even before he reached her he knew that it was her. Lying before him on the ground, face upturned to the blue sky. Her face was pale, a bruise at her hairline the only color that graced her skin, her slightly parted lips an unnatural greyish blue and as Mulder skidded to a halt, dropping to his knees beside her the world seemed to tilt on it's axis as the unthinkable slammed in to his brain.

<She's dead. I'm too late.>

His throat constricted with the thought, driving all the breath from his body, but he forced himself to concentrate. To fall apart now wasn't an option. He pinched her wrist between thumb and forefinger and his eyes slammed shut in gratitude as he felt for her pulse, finding to be strong and regular against her skin. Now that he was calmer he was aware of her chest rising and falling evenly as she breathed.

He was unsure though as to whether she was unconscious or asleep. The bruise beneath her hair was a nasty one and unwilling to injure her further, Mulder resisted the temptation to simply gather her in his arms and instead gently touched a finger to her cheek.

<She's so cold>

It didn't make any sense. The world around them was warm. Stifling even and Mulder could feel the perspiration running down his back beneath the T-shirt he wore, plastering the thin material to his body. He increased the pressure slightly, breathing her name as he did so.

"Scully?"

Nothing. No response.

"Scully?"

Louder this time and he was rewarded as her eyelids began to flutter in response to the sound of his voice, even more so when her tongue snaked out to wet her dry lips as she struggled to form the words.

"Muh...Mulder?"

Her voice was thick, slurred even, but to Mulder it was the most wonderful sound imaginable and his throat constricted as she finally forced her eyes open, immediately squinting against the bright light, she tried to turn her head towards him but cried out as the pain returned once again. It was a sound that almost tore Mulder in two. A weak mewling cry like that of a kitten removed from it's mother.

He gathered her in his arms, gently for fear of hurting her more and closed his eyes as she lifted her arms and clung to him, breathing in the scent that despite everything was still, unmistakably Scully.

"Ssssshhhh it's okay. Don't try to speak. Everything's going to be okay."

He felt rather than saw her nod her head slightly, felt her relax against him.

"I'm so tired Mulder."

Her voice seemed to come from far away as his temple began to throb once again. The pain now creeping back up to the surface as the adrenaline he had needed to get to her began to recede and he struggled to keep his eyes open, terrified that if he should close them she would no longer be there when he opened them again. But even as he experienced the thought he began to lose the battle with consciousness. Her voice was replaced by a buzzing inside his head as his grip on her loosened, falling back with her against him, he lost consciousness.

Eeazy Sleep Motel May 6th 1999 6:01a.m.

Skinner tilted his head back as he attempted to rid himself of the kinks that sitting motionless in a chair all night had caused. He had spent the night with his eyes fixed on Mulder as he slept in the bed before him, searching for any signs that the younger man might be restless. There had been none. Mulder had slept the sleep of the dead. Hardly moving, his eyes had never flickered.

So much for his theories. As Skinner had feared, this whole charade had come to nothing and it seemed to him that the only person to come out of this ahead had been Mulder. At least *he'd* managed to get some rest. It had been a long time since Skinner had pulled an all-nighter and he had to admit that he wasn't as young as he used to be. All night vigils were for those with the advantage of youthful energy...or in Mulder's case, single- minded determination. He'd known the younger man to forgo sleep for days when in the grip of a difficult case and it never ceased to amaze him just how he managed to stay so focused.

Without a doubt Mulder was *the* best Agent Skinner had ever had the pleasure of working with. The man's mind was unfathomable at times in it's complexity and he envied the way he was able to make great instinctive leaps that were able to take him exactly where he needed to be. Skinner had no doubts that had Mulder chosen a different path he might have been the finest criminal profiler the FBI had ever known. But he hadn't. He had chosen to pursue the X-Files. Some said it was a waste of his extraordinary talent. That he should be brought back in to the conventional fabric of the FBI. Or at least they used to. Now no one seemed to particularly care one way or another. Mulder had become an embarrassment. A joke. His ability was wasted on them know and Skinner knew that they were just looking for an excuse to end his career for good. To rid themselves of this man who had stepped beyond the boundaries of Bureau protocol just once too often during the past five years.

Lost in thought, Skinner didn't notice the subtle shift in Mulder's position on the bed. The way his body curled slightly in a protective gesture as his hands were drawn together, didn't notice the thin blanket as it seemed to take on a life of it's own.

The changes happened in much less than a single second. Happened almost too quickly for the naked eye to capture and when Skinner was questioned later he would be unable to provide a satisfactory answer as to how the body on the bed inexplicably became two.

Skinner shot to his feet, unable to reconcile what he now saw, for on the bed before him lay two people. Mulder's body spooned protectively around Scully. The fact that they resembled spent lovers wasn't lost on Skinner, but he had no time to even process the thought as he crossed the room to get closer to them.

The first thing he saw was the blood, pooling from a deep cut at Mulder's temple it dripped down his face to fall unchecked on to the snowy white sheets beneath, like a blossoming rose it grew and grew against the material.

Skinner dropped to his knees and grasped Mulder's shoulder.

"Mulder?"

He began to shake as he felt for signs of life in both his Agents. The fact that Scully had simply *appeared* before him was, for the moment at least, lost on him as his training kicked in with a vengeance. Mulder's pulse was strong at least. The head wound was nasty but unlikely to be life threatening.

He turned his attention to Scully, struck for the first time by how pale she appeared to be. Her skin when he felt it was cold. Frowning, he dropped her wrist abruptly, turning his attention to her neck as his fingers probed along her jaw line.

No pulse. Nothing.

"Shit!"

With one hand he groped for the cel phone stored inside his jacket pocket, punching out the numbers even as his other hand began pulling at the buttons that held Scully's pyjama top against her body.

His call was answered almost immediately.

"911 which service do you require?"

"This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI. Badge number JTZ 0179-324. I need an ambulance now. I have two Agents down."

The woman on the other end of the phone was calm, professional, detached, seemingly unimpressed by Skinner's position of authority as she took down the Motel's address.

"I have an ambulance despatched to that address Sir. Can you confirm current status of the injuries?"

Skinner closed his eyes, swallowing heavily.

"One male, unconscious. One female with no pulse or respiration."

"Have you commenced CPR Sir?"

"I'm about to."

Skinner cut off the call, throwing the phone carelessly on to the floor as he once again fell to his knees beside Scully, unheeding of any possible injuries as he dragged her from the bed and on the floor before him. And even without realising it, as he pinched his fingers to her nose, bringing his mouth to cover hers, Walter Skinner began to pray.

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