Dreamcatcher 26
Ally

Dreamcatcher. Time and date unknown.

For the first time in her life, Scully had become unaware of the passage of time. No longer sure as to which was day and which was night, she simply put all her energies into existing.

She could close her eyes, try to sleep, only to have strange dreams catapult her back to reality. Fliss had been right. Nothing here was real.

Least of all herself.

But the time alone had given her the space she needed to put together the pieces of this place. To know it. To understand it. And in doing so, she had found a kind of peace. This place - the Dreamcatcher - was just as Fliss had told her it was. A combination of one's fondest wishes and darkest nightmares. On several occasions, Scully had bolted upright, still in the grip of whichever horror had chosen to visit her during her troubled sleep.

She slept a lot. She dreamed a lot. Sometimes she found herself wondering if this whole thing was a dream from which she was unable to awaken.

Some of the dreams had the ability to rip at her heart, to have her wake with Mulder's name on her lips, forced to cope with the crushing disappointment of knowing he wasn't here.

Her subconscious mind had been allowed full rein here. It seemed that everywhere she turned, there was a vestige of some dream, some nightmare, lingering before her eyes.

Sometimes the landscape was filled with sunshine - light that chased away the darkness of the night. But more often it was dark. Dark enough sometimes to make even seeing her hand in front of her face impossible. Scully had no way of creating light. All she could do was to sit trembling, her knees drawn up against her chest for warmth as she waited for it to pass. Or for sleep to claim her once again.

She had lost weight. The flannel pajamas now hung off her slight frame, and that told her better than any clock that she had been here a while. Whether the time could be measured in days, weeks, or months, though, she found herself less sure of. And truthfully, it just didn't seem to matter anymore.

For the first time ever, she felt truly alone, even more so when she had awoken, sweating and shaking, from the latest nightmare with the sun beating down upon her tear-streaked face. Different from the rest, it had been frightening in both its clarity and form. Because unlike the other dreams, she had not been aware that she was dreaming. She had become adept at waking herself up before her subconscious took her too far. But not this time. This time she had stood on the periphery of the dream and watched the drama play out to the bitter end.

She had seen herself with Mulder. Both of them were searching for something amongst a warehouse full of wooden crates. Scully hadn't know exactly *what* they were looking for. It hadn't seemed important at the time.

They were dressed casually, both wearing jeans and shirts, weapons drawn as they scanned the area before them. It had been Mulder who had turned to her and suggested they split up, to quicken their search. To yield whatever results they were hoping to find. Scully hadn't argued. She had simply branched off to the left, ears straining to hear even the tiniest sound that might bring them closer to what they sought. For a while there had been nothing aside from the sound of her partner's retreating footsteps across the building as he sought this invisible, unknown foe.

She had taken comfort from the sound of his steps, knowing that he was okay. Until suddenly the steps stopped abruptly A second later she heard a strange scuffling sound as though something or someone were being dragged.

<Mulder?>

She had called out his name, softly at first, and then when no response was forthcoming she had spun around and retraced her steps to where they had last been together, growing ever more frantic as she failed to find him, failed to garner a response from him as she called out to him.

And then she had stumbled across him. Literally. Her partner, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. She had tripped when her foot connected with his outstretched arm, falling headlong onto the ground beside him, a scream already building in her throat as she realized the source of the blood.

Her gaze had wandered along the length of his body, finally coming to rest on the ragged flesh that protruded from the neck of his T-shirt. A pristine white T- shirt that was now soaked with his blood. His once beautiful, expressive eyes were fixed ahead, his mouth open in an expression of almost comical surprise, as though he couldn't quite believe what had happened to him. And Scully had heard a sound, a high-pitched animal wail, that begin to reverberate around the enclosed space. She had no concept that it might actually be coming from within herself. No concept of anything other than the sight of her partner's decapitated body in front of her.

She had awoken to find sunshine streaming down through the trees, and while she was thankful at least that she hadn't awakened in the darkness that now seemed almost constant, the sunshine seemed out of place, almost an aberration. The tears had streamed unchecked down her face as she fought to let go of the images that still assaulted her. Was this what Gina had meant when she told of the Dreamcatcher's power to make one's darkest nightmares into reality?

Was this what her darkest nightmare truly was? If Scully were honest with herself she would have to admit one day that the possibility of losing him filled her with an emptiness that even she couldn't fully comprehend. To let go of him now, after everything they had shared, was unthinkable, and the realization that what she had just witnessed had been nothing more than a dream failed to have any impact on her.

She was still crying when the voice reached her.

"You have to stop crying all the time. It makes him angry."

<Fliss?>

Scully raised her head warily, eyeing the child who had knelt beside her and tried to remember when she had last seen her. But the days had merged into one frightening, confusing chain of events and she found she couldn't. Five years or five minutes. It just didn't seem to matter anymore.

She did vaguely recall their last conversation though.

<You have to kill him for me.>

That faceless someone whom this child was so afraid of. Scully turned her head away from Fliss, closing her eyes as she did so. "I won't help you. You're wasting your time"

Her voice was flat, emotionless. Directed at this child who had taken so much from her and who now came to her for help.

Fliss dropped onto her knees beside Scully, her hands grasping at the woman's arm, fingers biting into them cruelly. Scully knew that the fragile flesh would bruise from the impact. She didn't care.

"You have to help me."

Scully shook her arm free. "No, I don't."

She was aware that the child's eyes had filled with tears again, her mouth beginning to quiver as Scully's words registered. Her words when they finally came were suffused with such longing that Scully almost wavered. "But my father..."

Almost but not quite. Ignoring her natural instinct as an adult human being to simply take this child into her arms, Scully rounded on her. The ferocity of her words were enough to bring her to her feet, dragging the frightened child with her.

"Your father isn't *real*. Don't you understand that? *You* kept him here. You kept him here because you feel responsible for his death. You've kept him here because you can't let him go!" She shouted the words at Fliss's face, no longer mindful of her adult status. All the anger, all the rage came spilling out as she held the child before her, shaking her as she did so, watching her head snap back and forth with the force.

It was only the shrieking sound of Felicity's screams that brought her to her sense. "STOP IT!"

The child was near hysterical and Scully stepped back, releasing her as she did so. Horrified and ashamed by her actions.

"Fliss, I'm sorry..."

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about."

Scully shivered.

<It's coming. Oh God, the darkness is coming.>

She could feel the first stirrings of the trees above her, could hear the whisper of the leaves as they began to move gracefully in the wind, growing louder with every second that passed, becoming more violent as the wind gathered in force. She almost didn't hear Fliss's next words as the child turned her face toward her, eyes alarmingly blank, her voice toneless. Defeated.

"You don't believe me. No one ever believes me. But now you will. Because he's coming. And you can't stop him."

**********

St Mary's Hospital. May 16th, 1999

"I think you should stay."

Margaret's hand grasped Mulder's softly in an effort to make him understand. To make him see that if he walked away now he might very well regret it for the rest of his life. This final goodbye to his partner. His best friend. The only one he had ever truly loved. Try as he might to deny all he felt for her daughter, Margaret could see it in his every glance, his every gesture. In every single breath he had breathed during this never-ending week as he had kept a vigil beside her.

He had barely slept. Snatching a few minutes here and there before bolting awake once more. It had been painful to watch him. More painful still as she came to realize his vigil had been in vain. That no amount of love was going to bring her daughter back.

She had left the room, allowing him the privacy to say his final goodbye. But time was against them. Maybe it had been against them from the start. His goodbye had been so brief. She had returned a scant few minutes later to find him cradling Dana's still form against him, sobbing into her hair as he implored her to please forgive him.

The sight of them together had cracked the remaining piece of her heart cleanly in two, because as much as she was suffering, she was aware that Mulder would suffer for the rest of his life. However short that might be. She doubted he would find it in himself to carry on without her, and for a moment she had felt ashamed. Ashamed that she had never fully appreciated all that this man was.

It was why Margaret felt it was so important for him to be here now. To be a part of her as she left them. But he was adamant as he turned away from her, unable to face this final hurdle. He had remained so strong throughout all this, through this endless week when they had hoped against hope that the doctors were wrong.

But finally they had been forced to confront the finality of the situation. Scully had lain unresponsive to breathe everything around her, unable to for herself, her brain patterns stilling with each passing day as she crept further and further away from them.

In life she had been very specific about the course of action that should be taken here. They had to respect that decision.

It didn't make it any easier to let her go.

But Mulder knew he couldn't be with her for this final journey. He couldn't stand there and watch as the life drained from her, couldn't watch her die.

Briefly he tightened his fingers around Margaret's.

"I can't." His eyes implored her to understand. To understand that he wasn't strong enough to do this. That no matter what happened he could never bring himself to be there when his partner died. It was the coward's way out. A final escape from all that haunted him inside.

But Margaret understood.

How could she not?

He had just helped her to sign away Dana's life. It had come as a shock to realize that her daughter had listed him as joint next of kin. Even more so when she discovered that even Mulder had been unaware of the fact. Maybe she had been right to do it, though. Maybe Dana had realized that her mother would never have had the strength to do this alone.

Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she turned away from the sight of Mulder's retreating back.

The priest smiled softly at her, his face suffused in a pious calm that Margaret dearly wished she felt. He gestured that she come closer. To pray with him as the doctors did their final work.

"It's time."

Margaret nodded.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

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