1. In the Land of Nevermore
Light. Gray; a touch of twilight glow. What am I standing on? I can see no ground, no walls. Just gray-twilight glow.
It isn't exactly quiet, or empty. There are sounds--echoed voices?--but they sound old and sad and muddled by each other's presence. I can feel them, but I can't see them. Not yet.
Something is pulling at me, telling me to follow. I obey without questioning. Who would I question? What would I ask?
I walk on.
I cannot see what I feel myself stepping on. It is soft, smooth, and pleasantly cool against my bare feet. It yields slightly at my touch, as if I am walking on foam.
I don't know how much time passes. Time does not exist here. I come to a blue curtain made of flowing water. It flows in slow motion. Tiny gold droplets splash off were the invisible ground begins. They splash in slow motion as well before disappearing into the unseen barrier below me. I want to reach down and catch one, but I am urged on.
Reluctantly, I brush the water curtain aside and step forward. At the same moment, two shadowy figures emerge from similar curtains close to mine. They approach each other, their bodies shrouded in ghostly mist that rises from the water. With each step they take, the curtains grow until we are surrounded by a wall of slow-moving blue and creeping mist. The circular arena is lit by the gold droplets, which give off a pale light of their own.
I can see now, they are twins: each an exact copy of the other. If I could count the hairs on their heads, I wouldn't be surprised to find the exact same numbers.
I don't think they see me, but I crouch low, hiding in the fog.
The tugging at my heart has stopped. This must be it! I am meant to witness this encounter.
For a while, the two men simply stare at each other. I study them, perhaps as curious about our situation as they are. I notice their attractiveness: tall, brown hair, hazel eyes, strong eyes that see everything. And yet, why don't they see me?
Finally, one speaks. He is wearing a dark suit and tie. "What is this?" he asks. He sounds a little afraid, but there is something else there something I can't quite...
"Is it a dream?" the second twin returns. He is attired in jeans, a white tee-shirt, and a black leather jacket with sleeves too long. He is more curious than his mirrored image.
"I don't, I mean, I would hope so, but--I don't think so." I see now: weariness is the sound I hear, trickling through his sorrow-ridden words. He strains under its weight. My heart flutters in pity for him. What is it that makes him speak with such discouragement?
"Who are you?" asks the twin in jeans. Strangely, he sounds as if he already knows.
After a few moments pause, the suited man tosses up his hands. "How am I to know any more? I am either you or him." at this he pulls out an ID and tosses it onto the ground, "...or neither." My well-trained ears hear the crack in his voice as he speaks the final words. The other twin glances coolly at the discarded wallet.
"Fox Mulder." He doesn't need to read the name. "I am you."
Fox looks up. "What?" Frustration haunts the edge of his voice, threatening to come further forward.
"I am you," the nameless one continues. "You are a character I created from words on a page." He laughs. "This is a dream, then."
"Oh? And which of us is dreaming?? Last time I checked, I had a free ill just like everyone else. I existed before you came here." I notice how the one called Fox becomes so easily defensive.
"No you didn't, Mulder." There is a harshness in the Unnamed One's words..
It stings me. He walks towards the curtains. "I am an actor, and you are my dream," he says, pushing the water apart, "And I am tired of it."
With that he is gone into the twilight beyond, and Fox collapses suddenly into a miserable heap on the non-floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest, his arms draped over them.
"So, I'm not real." He sniffs, trying to hold back tears. "I always thought it would turn out that way." Nervous laughter. "Not real!"
I stand and go to him. I can no longer bear to leave him alone in his suffering. "Fox?" I say cautiously.
He looks up at me, a bitter sneer on his face. "Are you me too?" he sniffs again. "Come to tell me I'm your comic-book dream as well as his?" A single, stubborn tear courses down his cheek. He wipes it angrily away with the back of his hand.
"No," I answer, kneeling beside him.
"Have you got any idea what it's like to suddenly not exist?" he demands.. "To be spirited into some non-place and be called a dream? I have been wandering here for for forever it seems, looking for a way out. And now there is no way out, because there is no 'out'??"
"I'm here too, aren't I?" I shake my head. "I've already tried waking from this dream. It's real. I'm no less stuck here than you are."
Then he gives me a look. His face is like a little boy whose mother has forgotten to kiss him goodnight. Endlessly lonely and yet, I wonder, does he trust me? I place my hand over his. His hurt eyes flicker from my hand to my face, then he bows his head and I can feel him afraid--terrified of who he is, or who he might not be.
"I don't understand." His voice breaks with a sob as tears finally flood down his face. I gather him into my arms, sensing that he needs to be held, to know I am here.
"Shh..." I run my fingers through his hair. "It's all right. Everything's going to be all right." My words feel hollow at best, but they are words of encouragement.
"I want to get out of here," he sobs. The hopelessness in his voice breaks my heart. He wraps his arms around me and I rock him gently. His tears wash over my arms. He cannot speak, for he is so dissolved in grief. My tears fall too, and mingle with his on the tips of my fingers. I sing softly to him, though my voice is veiled in sorrow.

Hush, little one.
Come close to me now.
I will protect you, though I don't know how.
Listen to my music.
Let it calm your mind.
Leave all frightening thoughts behind.
Oh please, don't leave me now.
Don't cry.
Though I can't tell you how or why,
Still my love will last
Through the darkest night.
You'll be all right.
Don't let your hope fade away.
Don't let your hope fade away.

He seems to sleep, but I hear him mutter as if in a dream, "Mother."

2. The Georgetown University Hospital
Mulder awoke with tears on his cheeks and the girl's sweet lullaby echoing in his ears. Scully was dozing in a nearby chair. Mulder closed his eyes, trying to re-capture the feeling of the girl's motherly arms or the scent of her blue silk dress. When he found he was unable to get it back, he could not suppress a soft sob. The sound was enough to bring Scully to his side in an instant.
"Mulder?" she said, concerned. "Mulder, what is it? Are you in pain?"
"Not the kind you mean," he choked on the words, trying to get a hold of himself. "Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital," Scully said, barely resisting the urge to add 'again' to the end of that sentence. She sat beside her friend and took his hands. "You were hit by a car. You're extremely fortunate to have gotten through with little more than some bad bruises."
Mulder sat up in the white hospital bed. The pain from the bruises was bearable but.
"Mulder, what's wrong?" There was no mistaking the worry in Scully's voice as she brushed the tears from his face.
"A dream, just a dream." The memory brought fresh waves of loss. Mulder began to sob as he spoke. "I was behind a waterfall where I didn't exist, and she held me and sang a beautiful lullaby."
Scully drew him close to her. "Who is 'she' Mulder?"
"A young woman, hardly more than a childin a blue silk dress." He pressed his knuckles to his eyes, trying to stop the tears.
"Was it Samantha?" Scully asked gently. Mulder shook his head.
"No," he sniffed. "No, it was just, No."
Scully handed him a tissue. He blew his nose and she said, "Will you be all right? I have some work to do back at the office. I wouldn't go, but Skinner insists."
Mulder nodded. Scully rose to leave, but just as she reached the door, he called out to her. "Scully?"
"Yeah Mulder?"
Mulder's breath caught in his throat as he remembered missing his mother in the dream world. "Nothing," he muttered.
"Okay, Mulder." Scully left the room with a frown on her face. Mulder watched the door close behind her. He stared at it, lost in thought, until weariness overtook him and his tear-dampened eyes fluttered shut.

3. In the Land of Nevermore
The waterfall curtains are gone now. They ran into the floor and have made it blue and gold. It's just like walking on water, only it isn't wet. Just cool and soothing. I sit here with his head in my lap, as I have done since he fell asleep. There is no time here, so when he wakes I don't know if a minute has passed or a lifetime.
"Fox?" I say, stroking his arm. He sits up. His eyes are deep pools, deeper even than the blue water under us. It almost frightens me.
"Have you slept since you got here?" His question seems strangely urgent.. I shake my head.
"I have seen so many strange things since I got here, I hardly remember where I came from." That is a lie. I don't remember, not a bit.
His eyes are still on me, but now I don't think he sees me. "I dreamed." he begins, then shakes his head. "Unless this is a dream." He blinks, his eyes suddenly focus again. "I saw Scully. I told her you were a dream. Tell me--are you?"
His questions confuse me. "I'm no more a dream than you are. I said that." But now I am afraid. I wonder, were the words of Fox's mysterious twin meant for me? My eyes fill with tears. He holds me close.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. I cling to him until I feel safe again. He is real--he is here, and he is with me. Neither of us has to be alone.
I pull away from his comforting embrace though I know I can stay and time will not pass. I see now that the absence of time can be a trap as well as a blessing.
"We have to find our way out," I say. He nods and help me up. We look around. There is nothing but blue-gold water and a pale twilight sky stretching forever in every direction.
"Which way?" he looks at me. I do not hesitate even an instant before setting off.
"This way."
"How do you know?" He isn't challenging my decision. He is merely curious. I pause a moment and shrug.
"I just know. It pulls at me. That's how I found you."
He studies me, meets my eyes. I can tell he accepts my answer, but there is something sad about the way he takes my hand and starts walking again.
He is afraid. I can feel it, too. He can feel the pull--and can feel it weeping as we walk.

4. In Scully's Car
Traffic was terrible. Scully turned on her car radio, hoping for good news, but the situation looked grim. Bumper-to-bumper throughout the city. With a sigh, Scully took out her cell phone and dialed the number of the hotel where Fox's mother was staying. Mrs. Mulder had knows her son's injuries were not extensive, but she had come anyway to look after him because Scully was so busy.
The phone rang three times. Scully was about to hang up and try again when she heard a familiar voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Mulder? It's Dana Scully."
"Oh, hello Dana! How is Fox doing?"
"Luckily, he's only got a few bruises. He's being kept for observation, but should be released tonight."
"Wonderful! I was so worried when I heard that my son was unconscious on some hospital bed again."
Scully interrupted the laughter on the other end of the phone line. "But I think you should go see him."
"Why, is something wrong?" The bright, chatty Mrs. Mulder was suddenly replaced by an eager and concerned mother.
"I'm not sure, Mrs. Mulder. He seemed troubles, for lack of a better word, when he woke up. He mentioned a dream, but I think it would do him good if you went to him."
"Thank you, Dana, I'll do that." Scully heard the phone click down on the receiver. She hung up her own phone and went back to cursing the traffic…

5. In the Land of Nevermore
I'm tired.
The sadness of the call is taking its toll. There is a distinct air of depression about us. Both Fox and I find ourselves choking back tears that rise unbidden to our eyes. We lean closer to each other and move on, but sometimes the tears demand to be let loose. Then we stop and hold each other until it's over and keep going.
This is when I'm glad there is no time.
I think we've been walking for days when Fox sees something ahead. It glows the way the golden droplets did, only brighter. We can't run to it because the ground is so unstable, but we walk faster to reach it. Both of us want to get home as soon as possible, even though I can't remember what my home is. This scares me more than anything because of what the Unnamed Twin said. I don't tell Fox, though. I know it's a silly thing to think--that I might not exist.
God, I hate this place.
The glowing, we find, comes from a big door just standing in the middle of this, whatever it is. We stand in front of the door, uncertain.
"Do we go in?" I whisper.
"Got any better ideas?" he returns in a voice just a quiet but with a note of joviality. Something about the door makes us feel like we should be quiet, the way you feel in church.
"No," I answer.
"Well then." He reaches towards the handle, but just before he touches it, a voice interrupts us from behind.
"Wait."
Both of us are perfectly still.
"Turn around."
We obey the deep-voiced command, but grasp hands. We've had more than enough of this crazy place. We're real. This isn't. I keep telling myself that.
Maybe if I'm lucky I'll start believing it.
Standing before us is a man who resembles a picture-book drawing I remember seeing once somewhere (but where?) of Father Time. He is tall and thin with a long white beard and a gnarled wooden staff. But the thing that strikes me most is that he's shimmering. It reminds me of looking at something through very clear water.
"Who are you?" Fox pulls me closer to him, his eyes are narrowed, suspicious.
"I am the Gatekeeper," says the man as he walks closer. "You've come to the Gate."
"What gate?" I can tell Fox doesn't trust this man.
"The Gate," replies the Keeper. "And the only way out of here."
"All right, that's all we needed to know." Fox is in the process of turning to open the door when the Gatekeeper speaks up again.
"She can't go with you," he says.
"What?" Fox glares at the old one.
"The minute you walk through that door, you loose her. She can't go through. Technically, she doesn't exist."
Now I am really terrified. I hold on to Fox. He is the only lifeline I've got now. I'm lost, really.
Lost.
"Of course she exists!" Fox growls. "She's right here in my arms, how can she not exist??"
The Gatekeeper leans patiently on his staff. "She was created for the single, solitary purpose of hearing your 'twin' inform you of your non-existence. What that twin was wrong in thinking is that because you don't exist in his world, you don't exist in any world. That, as you can see, is quite wrong. You exist in your world as much as he does not exist there.
"Your young companion, however, has no 'world.' She has a purpose, no more. Now that she has served that purpose, she will stop existing, even in this place-between-worlds."
"That had better be an 'unless' I smell on your stinking breath, Gatekeeper." Fox keeps me close in his arms. I listen, hanging to their ever word, but I'm so tired.
"Unless," the Keeper says, "you stay with her."

6. In the Georgetown University Hospital
Scully and Mrs. Mulder entered Fox's room together. Teena Mulder went to her son's side and looked down at him. He wore a pained expression on his haggard face. Beads of sweat lined his pale, furrowed brow. His hands were clenched in tight fists. Teena pried his fingers apart and held his hand in hers as she stood beside the bed.
"My poor Fox," she murmured sadly. "What nightmare haunts you now?"
The two women watched over Mulder's battered body as his mind fought a battle in another world. Though deep in sleep, he gasped as his grip suddenly tightened.

7. In the Land of Nevermore
"Stay here??" Fox's grip tightens on me. The Gatekeeper nods.
"Of course, if you decide to do that, you'll be like her: not real." The Gatekeeper steps past us. He pulls open the door. Beyond it we see Fox lying in a hospital bed. A woman who may be his mother stands beside him, holding his hand. Another younger woman sits in a chair nearby. She's pretty. I look up at Fox, and I can see that he feel great love for these two.
"Go," I say softly. "Go to them."
Easy tears fill his hazel eyes. "I can't leave you here."
"Yes you can," I try to smile. "I'm not real, remember? You'll only be leaving behind a dream. You'll only wake up, that's all." I know he can feel me trembling. I try to pull away so he can't, but he won't let me.
"At least," he pleads, "At least try. You can't loose anything by trying.." Both of us look at the Gatekeeper. He offers no better answer to our silent query than a slight, crooked smile.
"All right then." Fox looks at me. "Will you come?"
I nod eagerly, but now I have hardly enough energy to stay standing. My whole body sags like a rag doll. Fox scoops me up into his strong arms just as if I was a rag doll. I put my arms around his neck. The Gatekeeper watches. He looks almost amused, though he is trying to keep an expression of no expression.
"In case we don't meet again," Fox kisses my forehead lightly. "Would you sing that lullaby one last time?"
I will gladly, though my voice is not strong. I tell Fox so with my eyes, and sing quietly.

Hush, little one.
Come close to me now.
I will protect you, though I don't know how.
Listen to my music.
Let it calm your mind.
Leave all frightening thoughts behind.
Oh please, don't leave me now.
Don't cry.
Though I can't tell you how or why,
Still my love will last
Through the darkest night.
You'll be all right.
Don't let your hope fade away.
Don't let your hope fade away.

When my song is done, I close my eyes. I feel Fox's tears on my arms and neck, and I feel his breaths shorten. He's trying not to show it trying to be strong now. But I know.
And I know he must be looking at the Gatekeeper. I can picture his eyes: sad, afraid, and warning the Keeper that somehow, if Fox ever finds him again Then Fox turns and steps towards the door. He carries me so gently! Oh Fox, if ever I had a father, I hope he was just like you.
He pauses at the edge. "Ready?" he whispers.
"I'm scared," I tell him as my eyes flutter open, letting the tears escape. He bows his head a little.
"I know." He seems to choke on the words. He's trying to be very brave for me. He takes a deep but shaky breath. "Let's go." I close my eyes as he steps through the door. I seem to be getting lighter. I can't feel his hands any more, or my silk gown brushing against my ankles, or the warm tears on my bare skin. All I see is light getting brighter, gray a touch of twilight glow.
Then a long, dark shape a pen moving smoothly across a white surface, red line down the edge of the blue-lined paper, felt pillows,¦ dark green woven with brown flowers, fuzzy red slippers. I look out the window and am surprised to see the dawn. My watch says it's 5:54 a.m. Holy crumbs, have I been writing this all night??? Mom will be furious. we're supposed to go to a rummage sale today with Aunt Jean. I hope she doesn't notice that I've gotten no sleep.

THE END!!