Dreamcatcher 8
Ally

Eeazy Sleep Motel Cleveland Ohio 3:59a.m.

Scully was hot. Uncomfortably hot, actually, and through a haze of awakening senses she wondered if the air conditioning was malfunctioning. Sure, they had enjoyed an unseasonably warm spring this year, but the nights were still cool enough to warrant at least one blanket - if not two.

She flipped over on her back, groaning softly as she did so, feeling the tangled mass of sheets twisting around her legs. Her pajamas, usually so comfortable, felt like a lead weight against her burning skin, a fine sheen of perspiration making them cling unpleasantly to her.

"Wake up Dana...before Mom and Dad hear us..."

{Melissa?}

Scully burrowed her head further into the pillow, feeling it mould itself against her face. Murmuring softly, still half immersed in dreams.

"Go 'way Missy. It's too early..." Her voice was soft, almost imperceptible. Childlike.

Scully squeezed her eyes closed again. Determined that she should be permitted to drift back to sleep.

And then...

"Dana Katherine Scully, I expect you down here in five minutes. Don't make me come up there and fetch you!"

Scully's eyes flew open as she bolted upright, heart racing as the voice reverberated around her head.

{MOM??}

Blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Scully appraised her surroundings. Disoriented as she was by the unfamiliar room, it took her a couple of seconds to realize where she was.

{Motel room. Ohio. *Case.*}

A dream.

Nothing more.

Scully allowed a small smile to curve her lips as she remembered her mother's patented method of persuading her less than enthusiastic daughter to drag herself out of bed in the mornings. It was a threat she used on all her children, but only Bill had ever pushed her to the limits, testing her resolve with typical boyish arrogance, wondering just what fate would befall him if he chose to ignore his mother's warning. She suspected that even her mother had not really thought it through enough to formulate a plan should one of her offspring *not* react to her calls. But the sight of Margaret Scully sweeping up the stairs, clutching the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice in her hand, would remain in Scully's memory forever.

They had followed her, giggling in childlike wonderment. Melissa leading the way, Dana second with little Charlie tagging along behind, screaming with laughter as Margaret stomped into Bill's bedroom to deposit the pitcher's contents, pulp and all, squarely over his tousled head.

His eleven-year-old male pride had taken a severe battering that day. One which the whole family, but Dana in particular, had taken great delight in reminding him of throughout his teenage years.

None of the Scully offspring had ever been late down to breakfast again.

"I guessed that would work."

{What?}

Scully whirled around to confront the voice that came from somewhere to her right, reaching blindly for the gun she had left on the night stand as she did so.

It wasn't there.

Her hand groped wildly, connecting with nothing more substantial than fresh air, and her eyes widened as she realized that the dim outlines of the room's furniture had disappeared.

That the *room* had disappeared.

No longer tangled in sheets and blankets, she was surrounded by blackness. An oily, all-consuming darkness that pressed in on her, stealing away her breath, squeezing painfully at her chest.

She was conscious of being in an upright position, although she could feel no surface beneath her bare feet.

{This is a dream. I've fallen asleep again.}

"You're not asleep, Agent Scully...but you're not exactly awake either."

That voice again, familiar in ways she as yet couldn't fathom, reaching out to her through the blackness. A child's voice, but not a *young* child. There was no threat in the voice. In fact, it seemed devoid of any emotion at all.

And then, out of the darkness she began to make out the form of a young girl, a young girl who seemed vaguely recognizable as she came toward her. Hand outstretched before her, she seemed to float toward Scully. Like an angel, she was surrounded by a hazy ethereal glow that shimmered softly, undulating with every step she took. Her long blonde hair lay softly against her shoulders, and as she came closer Scully could make out the china blue eyes, eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul as they searched the face of the woman before her.

Scully saw no danger in those eyes, just a deep, yearning sadness that pulled at her heart. The eyes of a child who has seen a lifetime of horror. The eyes of a survivor.

She was conscious that the heat in the room had disappeared, to be replaced with a delicious coolness that washed over her body, a breeze lifting her hair to waft gently around her face as the child came to a halt before her.

Scully allowed herself to breathe again. She knew, somehow, that there was nothing to fear from this child, and she accepted the touch of the cool fingers that tentatively reached for her own, holding onto them as she locked eyes with her.

"We knew you'd come."

Scully shook her head. "I don't understand. Why am I here?"

Her voice trailed off as Felicia Slabbert raised one slender finger until it rested against Scully's lips.

"Sssshhhhhh! Not here. He'll hear you. Come with me."

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

Scully tilted her face up toward the deep blue sky, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays against her skin.

She was seated opposite Felicia atop a grassy knoll covered in impossibly large daisies that attracted the most beautiful butterflies Scully had ever seen. An array of dazzling, ever changing colors, the butterflies dipped and danced between them, seemingly unafraid of their presence.

Off in the distance Scully could just make out the ocean, its surface made up of a million sparkling diamonds that caught the sun's rays. It should, by rights, have hurt her eyes, made her squint against the brilliance, but she found she could settle her gaze upon it without fear of harm.

It was so peaceful, with only the sound of twittering birdsong to disturb the peace and quiet of this green paradise.

For a long while they didn't speak, and Scully was content just to drink in her surroundings. She didn't pretend to understand what was happening, how she had gotten here, and truthfully, it just didn't matter. The how and why were of no significance to her now.

"It's so beautiful," she ventured finally.

Felicia dropped her eyes to the ground. Busying her fingers, she plucked at a daisy, snapping its fragile stem with one deft action and holding it out toward Scully.

"Nothing is beautiful here, Agent Scully. It's all an illusion. Watch."

Scully watched in fascinated silence as the blossom in Felicia's outstretched hand began to writhe and twist against its confines. Its stem began to pulse sickeningly before it split halfway up, revealing a thick yellowish ooze that pooled against the girl's delicate fingers and dripped in glistening, squirming droplets to the ground. The grass beneath it withered instantly, curling and crisping as though touched by fire.

The blossom itself seemed to turn in upon itself, its center splitting to reveal a nest of what Scully could only guess was the larval stage of some as yet unimagined insect. Nestled within the glistening folds of the flower, womb-like, protected by a thin layer of mucus, the insects turned lazily.

Feeling the bile rising in the back of her throat, Scully slammed her eyes shut.

{This is a nightmare. This is *not* happening.}

"Now look again, Dana."

And even while the ever present voice of reason was still screaming at her that this couldn't be so, Scully found herself acquiescing to the child's wishes. She opened her eyes and focused on the daisy.

So white it appeared almost silver in the sunlight. Beautiful. Perfect. Fragrant. Innocent.

"Take it. It's OK," Felicia urged. "This is how you are meant to see it. It's always like this in the beginning."

"The beginning?" Scully allowed Felicia to hand her the flower. Its stem was almost velvety in texture. Warm and soft in her hand.

"I don't understand. Where are we?"

"In the Dreamcatcher. Snared in its web like insects. Captured for eternity or until the sun burns us away. This is how it captures us. It lures us away with promises of sunshine, of everlasting summer days. Of a land where all our dreams come true....But slowly, slowly it shows its true purpose."

Scully felt her heart beginning to beat painfully against her chest as she listened to the child's words. This couldn't be happening. This was just a dream, brought on by Mulder's words. Words that had lulled her to sleep.

"Its true purpose?" Her voice sounded faint, far away, a faint buzzing in her ears making it difficult to think clearly.

Felicia's eyes filled with tears, which quickly began to make a glistening trail across her cheeks. "It steals our dreams and leaves us only with our deepest nightmares."

She pointed to an area out of Scully's immediate field of vision, and closed her eyes as the woman before her twisted to see what it was that had commanded her attention.

The tears ran faster, unchecked, as Felicia finally broke down completely, slamming her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the sound of Scully's screams.

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

5:05a.m.

"*EMILYYYYYYYY!*"

The sound of his partner screaming was enough to propel Mulder tumbling out of bed and halfway to the connecting door before the sound had even fully registered in his mind. His forward momentum carried him into Scully's room, and for a heart-stopping second he couldn't see her.

The bed, its coverings rumpled, was empty.

But then, as he became fully aware, he heard her again. Sobbing, rasping his name as she tried to draw breath. Huddled in a corner, cheek pressed up against the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut against whatever horror she had visited in her dreams to make her cry out her daughter's name, his partner whimpered softly.

Mulder clamped down on the basic urge to just get to her as quickly as possible and forced himself to approach slowly, cautiously. Right now he had no way of knowing whether she was asleep or awake. He knew enough about nightmares to know that, even if it was not strictly true that waking someone in the grips of a bad dream could cause irreversible damage, it was certainly true that the sufferer would be disorientated. He had no wish to add to Scully's panic.

As he got closer, he could see her eyes had opened, her lashes wet with the tears that still clung to them. Beyond that, though, he had no idea as to her state of mind.

Careful not to touch her, he hunkered down in front of her, hardly breathing as he whispered her name. "Scully."

In response to his voice, Mulder was rewarded when her eyes focused on him. Wherever she was, she could hear him. Could recognize him.

But even as she relaxed slightly, he could see the lingering terror in her expression, and his throat tightened as he watched the tears once again pool in her luminous blue eyes.

"Ssshhh, Scully. It's OK. You're safe."

Cupping her face in his hands, he used his thumbs to gently wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Still he hardly dared to breathe lest he frighten her more than she already was.

"Muh...Mulder?"

He had to strain to hear her. His name was the merest whisper on her trembling lips as she reached out for him.

"It's OK. Ssshhh, Scully. I'm here."

Then, as he watched the recognition snap into her expression, he allowed her to bolt into the security of his waiting arms, enveloping her in his embrace as she sobbed against his chest. Her hands clutched at his shirt as he rocked her gently against him.

In between her choking sobs, she managed to gasp out a few words, which although muffled, made some sort of sense to him.

A dream. A *nightmare* in which her dead daughter had a starring role. As real to her as he was now.

Mulder knew firsthand the numbing power of nightmares. Too many nights waking up with the sound of his own screaming reverberating in his head had taught him well.

Seeking to calm her, he began to stroke his palm in rhythmic motions from the crown of her head to her shoulders, whispering assurances to her all the while. He was rewarded finally when her trembling stilled and she was able to once again lift her head from where she had buried it against the folds of his T-shirt.

"You OK?"

A shaky nod, a trembling smile that tore into his heart and ripped it in to a million pieces. She looked all of twelve years old and just as vulnerable.

"It seemed so real," she whispered. "Like I could reach out and touch her..."

Mulder caught her hands in his, quieting her. "It was a dream, Scully. Just a dream." Her hands were cold, and he realized that she was clad only in the thin satin pajamas he had seen earlier. "You're freezing. Let's get you back to bed."

Fear flared in her eyes once again and she pulled away from him, cracking the back of her head solidly against the wall. "NO! I don't want to go back to sleep."

Mulder winced.

{Some nightmare.}

Nevertheless, he persisted gently. "OK, no sleep. But you can't stay here, you'll catch your death..."

"Will you stay?"

Again, that same childlike whispering voice. So unlike Scully it frightened him and he felt his eyes begin to burn with the tears that suddenly blinded him.

"Of course I'll stay. I'll always be here, Scully, you know that. For as long as you need me to be."

"Promise me, Mulder. Promise me you'll never leave me."

{God, Scully, how can you even ask me that? Don't you realize what you mean to me?}

He caught her hands in his again, drawing her gently to her feet before pulling her toward him to embrace her again.

"I promise."

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