Dreamcatcher
Notes and Prologue
Ally

RATING - PG 13

CLASSIFICATION - MSR. Case file. Character Angst

SUMMARY - A series of mysterious disappearances draw Scully deep in to a nightmare world where nothing is as it seems.

ARCHIVE - Anywhere. You don't have to ask but I'd like to know where it's going if at all possible.

FEEDBACK - Good, bad or indifferent. It's always welcomed with open arms. Feed me at Ally112038@aol.com 

DISCLAIMER - If you recognise the name they belong to CC, 1013 and FOX. If you don't they belong to me. I don't make any money from doing this. Don't sue me. 

AUTHOR’S NOTES - It's my first case file. Please be gentle! Main rambly author's notes can be found at the end. But there are people I have to thank who deserve to be here at the beginning. Peggy for a wonderful, thorough beta. Meg and Jina for encouragement and occasional ass kicking when I needed it. {G} You guys really should think about a career move in to professional stalking. Amanda for making me the most beautiful web page to display all this stuff and for maintaining it for one who is totally computer illiterate! Susan you came in right at the last minute to give this thing a wonderful final polish. You're a professional and you didn't charge me. What can I say? Finally Pamala as always for just being my friend. Thanks guys. :-)

Prologue

Northeast Georgetown Hospital, Washington DC. May 16th 1999.

Fox Mulder ran a trembling hand over his eyes, closing them for a second against the image before him. Knowing that the action was essentially futile. Nothing, not all the therapy, all the blanking, all the self induced Friday night alcoholic stupors would ever rid him of the sight of his partner hooked up to the ventilator before him.

His first though as he had entered this room for the first time was that this couldn't possibly be his partner. She had seemed even smaller than she actually was, the unhealthy pallor of her skin suggesting that she was already dead.

He had almost been afraid to walk towards her, afraid that in doing so he would break the spell that held her hovering somewhere between life and death.

But eventually he had made the walk across the small space that separated them, grasping her ice cold hand in his, hoping against hope that some of his health, his warmth, would be transferred to her. As if his touch alone could bring her back to him. A futile hope that as the hours had turned in to days and still she lay. Unmoving. Unresponsive to the sounds around her.

A touch on his shoulder brought him back to the here and now, and through sleep deprived eyes he managed to focus on the hazy vision of the woman who had remained with him throughout this hellish week. But right now he didn't want her there and he closed his eyes again. Unwilling as yet to face this version of a reality he wanted no part of.

“Fox.”

The voice was gentle, cajoling, attempting to summon him from his own personal version of hell.

{Leave me alone}

“Fox, please. I know this is hard.....”

{Hard? Jesus.........Hard?}

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, only the continuing reasoning from Margaret Scully preventing him from succumbing to this wholly inappropriate action.

“......but we have to go now.”

{NO! I have to stay with her. Always, I promised I would always stay with her....}

He opened his eyes slowly.

“I can’t do this. I can’t let her go like this.”

He tightened the grip on Scully’s hand. A grip he had not relinquished for more than five minutes in the days since she had been brought here, and traced a thumb over the fragile network of veins that contrasted sharply against the whiteness of her skin.

{ Two weeks ago I was commenting on her tan.}

The thought popped unbidden to his mind, and he had to bite his lip sharply to keep the tears at bay.

{Two weeks ago I was hitting baseballs with her in the park} Oh God, how had this happened? How had it come to this?

{Two fucking weeks ago we were finally laughing again.}

A moan escaped his lips as he dropped his head forwards, bringing her tightly curled hand to cheek. Resting it there, no longer even attempting to curb the flow of tears that pooled in his eyes and escaped their confines, making salty tracks down his face, a thousand memories of those same strong hands, time and again delicately chasing away his demons, feather light touches on his back, his face, his arm. Communicating to him that she was with him. That everything would be all right. How could he live his life without that touch? How could he even want to?

“You have to let her go Fox. You have to say goodbye. We all do.”

He finally turned his gaze to the woman above him, a woman, who, like her daughter had chosen to forgive him for the many wrongs he had brought on them. A woman who had essentially, taken the role of the loving mother he never had. Who even now, in the wake of her own grief remained strong for him. Who would remain strong even after.........after..........

{after I help to kill her daughter}

He felt the hand on his shoulder again. Small, strong, determined. Just like Scully. His Scully.

{Not yours anymore.}

“I need a minute alone with her.”

He felt rather than observed the slight nod. Attuned as he was to the Scully women, he felt it through the increased pressure of her hand.

“I’ll be right outside.”

Mulder nodded, waiting until he heard the tell tale click of the door closing. It was a sound he’d come to recognise easily through the past few days, and then turned his attention fully to the woman laying prone before him.

She had lost weight since the day he had brought her back despite the high tech crap they had fed in to her via one of the half dozen intravenous tubes that snaked out of her body. On the first day, he had demanded to know what their every purpose was. Needing to fall back on hard facts to take him away from the horror of the situation. Finding small comfort in the fact that the invaders in her creamy skin were givers of life...givers of hope.

But over the days that followed, the hope had waned, until he was forced to confront the reality of her situation. No amount of feeding, of nurturing, of loving her was ever going to bring her back to him. By doing so they were just prolonging the agony for all of them......and now the decision had been taken.

It was time to stop.

It was time to let her go.

Still holding her hand, Mulder eased himself carefully on to the bed beside her, unwilling even now to dislodge or disturb the equipment surrounding her. Her body rolled slightly against the pressure and rested against him, and even through the layers of sheets and blankets designed to keep her warm now that her temperature had dropped so low, the feel of her made his heart constrict painfully.

Every emotion in his conscious mind screamed at him to just gather her up in his arms and take her to someplace safe where nothing and no one would ever harm her, to protect her as he had always vowed to do and almost unbidden he raised her slender frame slightly so as to cradle her against his chest, holding her against him as he stroked her hair, her face, her back. Trying to say goodbye. Trying to tell her all the things she had needed to hear in life. The things he had never told her through some stupid misplaced sense of pride. The tears continued to flow.

{Not enough time. There was never enough time for me to tell you. Never enough words to express what you mean to me.}

“I’m sorry Scully. So sorry I never told you. So sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I’m sorry for a thousand things that you’ll never hear...........”

His voice finally broke, and Mulder pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Breathing in the scent of her that lingered despite all the medical staffs best efforts at dehumanising her. Saying through thought rather than words what he needed her to hear. Saying goodbye.