A Flower (1/1)
Date: Thu, 03 Jul 1997 00:09:43 +0000
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, Fox.
The song is from John Denver, and written by John Henry.
Distribute: Anywhere, I don't care. (hey that rhymes!)
Ratings: P, MS friendship I think, it may change
Auhtor's Notes: This is a dream and should be thought of creatively, not
that it is weird. but you may think it is weird anyway. It probably will
be.
A Flower (1/1)
"I dreamed you were a prophet in a meadow
I dreamed I was a mountain in the wind
I dreamed you knelt and touched me with a flower
I awoke with this: a flower in my hand"
Fox Mulder felt cold suddenly, his legs and arms quaked with it and he
instinctively curled tighter in his sleep.
He saw a meadow, warm and inviting, with flowers scattered in a pattern
known only to God, and a figure, solitary, standing to his right. It was
a woman: her hair was tossed by the wind and her eyes sparkled with a
fervor he had never seen. She was a zealot for her cause and holding her
arms to the sky as if it would rain down the answers to life. He looked
up and saw black clouds and shivered as they covered the sun. She just
might have the authority to call those raindrops down.
He stared at her, trying to discern her features, but her face was now
shadowed by the dark raincloud and he saw nothing. Then she began to
speak and her words were like crystal flowing through his mind to touch
briefly on a nerve or to caress a memory. He could not fathom what they
meant, only that they were powerful words and she could do mighty things
with them.
And then her voice came to be understood by his mind and he heard and
felt tears at her truthfulness.
"I am against you, O destroying mountain,
says the Lord,
that destroys the whole earth;
I will stretch out my hand against you,
and roll you down from the crags,
and make you a burned-out mountain."
He stumbled away from her despairing words, covering his ears so that he
didn't have to listen to her foretelling doom and destruction.
The setting shifted and he was up high, in thin air, watching an eagle
fly in low great arching swoops around him. Even though he did not turn
around once, he could see her all the way around, even when he assumed
she was behind him. He glanced down and saw a mountain made of his body,
rocks and trees climbing the sides of him, and the mountain's spirit was
his eyes.
The eagle was the prophetess from the meadow and her wail was the
eagle's screech. She would dip close and then soar high, always taunting
him with the freedom she had. He watched in horror as a wind came from
the clouds, made of swirling ice ane energy, and it sang through him,
dislodging his minerals and sediments until he was vibrating with the
wind's force.
He was eroded and weathered until there was nothing left of him and his
spirit was left naked before the howling of the wind. He closed his eyes
and waited to be scalded by fierce cold winds, but it did not come.
He opened his eyes and saw the eagle, perching on a rock near him, maybe
even one of his rocks, and its eyes turned and stared into him.
He was a burned-out mountain and she was a beautiful eagle - what did
she need of him?
But as he lay there, his soul in full view, the eagle shifted and grew
larger until it was no longer an eagle but human, a woman, and she was
leaning toward him.
her lips moved and he heard her say his name and as she got closer he
knew who she was.
Dana Scully.
Her red hair on fire and soft lips parted with the slight exhileration
of flying high in thin air, she knelt beside him.
A flower was in her pale hand and she touched it to his cheek. An energy
seemed to gorw inside him and he felt strength return to his weary body.
The words she had canted before were different and although he did not
know them, he understood their meaning. She was telling him he would be
all right. She was telling him to stop hiding from himself. She was
giving him life back in her words, with her flower's touch.
He sat up and took the flower, its bright blue petals like her eyes and
he smiled and leaned forward, wanting to kiss her.
He awoke suddenly, as he fell from the couch. He shook his head and
cleared his eyes of sleep.
He sighed at the dream and remembered what she had said, about hiding
within the mountain to keep from seeing himself.
Mulder sat down and glanced to the floor.
There lay a flower, now a purple color in the dim light, beckoning him.
He picked it up and felt the same rush of warmth and life.
He peered into its depths and saw the bright blue of her eyes.
And it was only a flower.
End.
Comments please.
Adios
RocketMan
The Fighters (1/2)
Date: Sat, 11 Apr 1998 22:15:29 +0000
Author:RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are the property of CC, 1013, and Fox. No
infringement is intended.
Summary&Notes: Serious Angst ahead. Read at your own risk.
Spoiler: All of the seasons to date (US5 included).
==============
"And so you see I have come to doubt
all that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you."
--'Kathy's Song' Simon & Garfunkel
==============
The Fighters (1/2)
Dana Scully was standing close to the file cabinet when he finally made
it in that morning, her face coalesced into a frown that looked just
about permanent these days.
"Where've you been Mulder?"
"Does it matter?" he said wearily, making her head snap back a bit with
the tone of his words.
"Yes." she answered, not willing to give up so soon. "You were supposed
to be here for a meeting earlier."
"So, I missed it." His shoulders shrugged as he sat down in his chair,
the slight give of its padded seat a welcome comfort.
"Mulder. It was on your performance as of late in this division."
He shot her a tired, self-degrading smile. "Oh. Oops."
Usually his self beating would cause her to back off, let him have his
peace for awhile, but today it did not.
"Mulder, this is bigger than oops. We're going to lose the X-Files if
you don't pull yourself together."
He almost shrugged again, but he could already see how afraid he was
making her so he simply nodded gravely. "Well, maybe that's for the
best."
Her mouth fell open and he wondered why his words were such a surprise
to her. Hadn't she been the one to reveal to him that his whole life was
a lie? So surely she should understand that they no longer needed the
X-Files.
"Mulder!"
"What?" he asked innocently, fingering a pencil left on his desk.
"What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Nothing!" he said, standing angrily, suddenly tired of her constant
prodding and constant badgering. "Just leave it alone."
Her hurt was not evident on her face, but he knew he had hurt her by the
sudden stiffness of her shoulders and the cold look that iced her
features.
"Mulder-"
"No, Scully. Shut up, okay? Just shut up." And he stood and fled out of
the room before he could see her pain.
~~~~
Fox Mulder paced his motel room out of anger and guilt, stepping in
close to her then away, then close again.
She reached out a hand as if to stop him, but he brushed right by,
ignoring it and concentrating on the anger and the hurt building within
him.
"Scully, what do you want from me?" he finally burst out, standing dead
still in the center of the room, eyes wide and furious and hands
pleading with her to make him un-confused.
She blinked and stood. "I don't know what you mean. All I want is for
you to stop acting like nothing is important anymore."
"It's not an *act*. Nothing is." he spat out, moving away from her
again.
These words hurt her more than any he had ever said and she crossed her
arms in front of her and made her way to the door. "Just go to sleep,
Mulder. I'll see you in the morning."
She walked out and slammed the door behind her and he heard the
connecting door on her side being locked.
He sighed and slumped to his bed. He couldn't make sense of her anymore.
It was like she had told him what he was doing wrong and when he
attempted to do it right, she wanted him to be doing it wrong again!
She was sort of shifting in the wind, denying him the strength in her he
had always sought and refusing to see it.
He growled and slammed his fist into the wall, hard.
Harder.
Harder.
He had to beat the pain out of him.
Slam the frustration into the wall.
Crush the fear and rage and helplessness into one small bug-sized splat
on the horribly tacky brown wall paper.
He sat heaving on his bed as the echoes of his rage thundered away.
Then he pulled off his dress shoes and laced his sneakers onto his feet.
He had just opened the motel room door when the knock sounded from the
connecting door.
Scully.
His blood raged in him and he dashed away into the darkness.
~~~~
After the long silence she opened the door and found his room empty, his
shoes carelessly tossed to the floor with his tie and dress shirt. She
walked over to his bed and picked up the shirt, smoothing it out with a
shaking hand, then placed it gingerly on top of his suitcase. She lifted
the tie from its haphazard place on the carpet and then set it also on
his luggage.
A whiff of his cologne and sweat drifted up to her and she smelled her
fingers with a hint of longing in her.
She didn't know what was happening to them anymore. Things just didn't
click between them. He was a stranger and she was teetering between
belief and fear of belief and he wasn't there to steady her anymore.
She felt alone.
For the first time in six years with him she felt completely and utterly
devoid of any hope for a return, any hope of him to save her, to laugh
with her, to anger her, to rejoice in her.
She was stranded on this island called belief and he was swimming away
with the sharks.
She shuddered and sat down on his bed, curling a hand around his pillow
and bringing it up to her face. The linen reeked of his shampoo and hair
and it made her think of times when she would come into the office and
smell him because he'd slept there all night.
She didn't know if she would ever have that smell again.
It made her want to beg him to stay, to beg him to not leave her alone
with the horrible truths they had discovered.
But he already had. She could see it in his eyes every time he looked at
a witness or at a survivor or abductee.
Every time he looked at her, because she was all three of those things.
He seemed to think for some reason, that because his own personal truth
was null and void, that others did not have personal truths that were
just as important. He was not big enough to be able to take on someone
else's quest.
Why couldn't he? She had willingly followed him in his search, why could
he now not do the same for her -- regardless of his own beliefs?
She was angry again now. Angry at him for abandoning her at the time she
so desperately needed him. Angry at him for switching sides in a battle
that was too important to lose.
She had fought with him and he was running off and hiding!
Boiling, she yanked herself away from her pathetic longing and back into
her room. She had her own strength to cultivate now, her own belief to
fall back on.
Mulder had nothing.
She would finally, truly, be the strong one.
~~~~
He realized when he had gotten about four miles away that his lack of
belief in the X-Files really wasn't her fault.
Sure, she had told him the horrible truth, but she had told him exactly
what he had always begged her to tell him.
The cold, undeniable, hard facts.
She had done exactly as he'd said and now he was blaming her for it.
He felt a little like a coackroach. Scum of the earth with no one but a
scientist to understand him.
Scully understood him most of the times, but lately he hadn't been very
understanding.
He turned and made his way back to the motel, thinking of good ways to
say he was sorry for yelling at her, maybe even talk to her about what
was going on, about this change happening between them.
It began to rain as soon as he reached the parking lot and he sprinted
across the slick tarmac to her room, pounding painfully on the door with
a wet fist.
She opened it and let him in and he shivered and crossed into his own
room, grateful that one of them had a door that wasn't directly in the
weather.
After slipping on some sweat pants and another shirt, he went back in
her room and sat in the little chair the motel offered.
"Look, Scully. I didn't mean to yell at you or get so upset-"
"No, Mulder. It's okay. Just forget it."
Her face was closed and from the hardness in her eyes, he knew she had
been doing some thinking too. That scared him. He didn't want her
leaving or anything.
"Scully?"
"Mulder, go to bed. It's okay."
She didn't sound very convincing and he stood and went over to where she
sat on the bed. He leaned in close, invading her personal space; it was
a signal that he was trying to apologize, trying to be close to her
again.
She backed away and stood up.
He felt his heart crush.
"Mulder, we're okay. Seriously."
He shook his head. "Seriously, we're not."
"Mulder, I suggest you go away." Her voice was shaking just a bit and he
wanted to hold her but he couldn't.
"Scully. I'm not leaving now. We're all messed up. We're not right
anymore. We don't click like we used to."
"That's not my fault," she said icily.
He was stung and rocked back on his heels. "I didn't say it was. I just
meant that-"
"Mulder, it doesn't matter anymore."
He felt the panic crawl into him. "Why?"
"Because I can stand on my own now, if I have to. I don't need you
anymore."
He frowned. "When did you ever need me?"
She was shocked, hurt again and he hadn't even meant to this time.
She wanted to hurtle curses at him that would make him hurt just as much
as her. She wanted to punch him right in the gut until he stopped saying
such stupid and painful things to her.
She didn't. She just drew in and relied on her own strength this time.
"It doesn't matter anymore, I-"
He strident voice cut through hers. "*When did you ever need me*?"
She threw him a dirty look. "Plenty of times, you idiot. You are so
freaking dense, do you know that? Mulder, your beliefs saved me! You
can't even ....." She trailed away, her anger spent on exhaustion and
mindless hurt that meant nothing now. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Scully. You left me alone. You left me alone that night
and you didn't *ever* believe me. Don't you understand? This isn't
anything I've done -- it's you!"
"This is my fault?! My fault!"
"Yes. It's your fault. But it's only the truth, Scully. It's only the
truth you told me. And so how can it be wrong?"
"My fault? I told you-"
"Shut up, Scully, and listen to me. I'm not blaming you for pain or
unhappiness or anything. I'm just saying you were the one to tell me the
truth, to point out my problems, my 'idiocy', and now you can't handle
it. You gave this to me and now you don't want me to have it. Don't you
see?"
She was struck silent and dumb by his confession.
"I don't want it like this," she finally whispered.
He stared at her disgustedly and walked back to his own room, slamming
the door with a loud reverberation that shook the walls.
She slumped into her bed.
She had made this monster. She had poisoned her prince.
Oh, God, what was she going to do? How could she get him back?
~~~~
Another day, another fight, he thought grimly. Would this ever end? She
was his best friend at one point, now it was just annoying and
repulsive. He didn't want to see her or touch her or even talk to her.
"Would you just stop hounding me!" he yelled and it seemed to make the
entire Hoover Building pause.
Her face took back its ice mask and he wondered if she ever cried at
home over this like he sometimes did.
He had trouble imagining it.
"Mulder, pay attention then, all right. I'm trying to get some work done
here and you won't even listen to me." She sounded hurt but also
frustrated and he stood as she did.
They circled like boxers in the ring and she came in close, ready to
jab.
"I'm working fine with our memo system idea." he snorted.
She paled. "That's so childish Mulder. We can't work if we only talk
through memos. You don't even read half the memos I give you."
"And you don't read any of mine." he retorted.
"So listen to me and we can get out of here."
His voice sounded threatening when he spoke. "If you want to leave, then
go ahead, I'm not stopping you. In fact, I'm encouraging you to."
He realized the instant he said it that he really didn't mean it, but he
was furious and ready to slap her if it made her stop being so petty and
selfish all the time.
She knew the double meaning to that and she wanted to hurt him.
"Maybe I will, Mulder. Then what will you do? Mope around the basement
for a day until you lose yourself in an oblivion of alcohol and porn?"
That bit deeply into him and he swaggered forward, backing her against
the file cabinets because he needed to reassert some kind of control.
"No, I'd have a party and then lose myself in the joy of alcohol and
porn and then maybe I'd go find the first red head I saw and knock her
up, how about that?"
She glared at him, pushing at his chest with both her hands. "You're
revolting Mulder. I'll make sure to keep as far away from you as
possible. You're a cold bastard anyway."
He sneered at her and wagged his head. "I think that would be your
rightfully earned nickname, Your Highness. You wouldn't even know the
first thing about making love, would you?"
She pushed at him again, desperate to escape the room and let herself
cry, but also furious at him for being so . . . so . . . cruel.
"You are a loser, Mulder, you know it? You are. And I wouldn't make love
to anyone that was so completely in love with his own sister. I believe
that's called incest, you pervert."
Anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the wall beside her head,
for one brief second enjoying the instant flash of fear that crossed her
face and resided in her eyes.
And then reality came back and he stared at her for a moment, fear
etched in both of them, his own horror at what he had done making his
stomach retch.
He reeled away from her and crashed over the trash can and into his
desk, panting as if he had just run a thousand miles.
She stared at him.
"You . . . you wouldn't have hit me, Mulder." she said, but her voice
was a question that begged him to answer.
His hands wrung and he shoved a lock of hair from his forehead.
"I . . . I don't know." he admitted and looked at her with such fear and
loathing for what he had done that she could not be angry.
She skitted closer to him, putting out a hand cautiously.
"Maybe you'd better leave." he said.
"No, I always end up leaving."
She sat down next to him and took his battered and now bleeding hand.
"This must hurt," she said.
"It does." He wasn't talking about his hand. "I hate that this is
happening, but you can't understand why I don't believe and I can't
understand why you want me to believe."
"Mulder, I want you to believe because that's who you are. That's the
Mulder I love."
"You don't love this Mulder?"
The question shocked her and she ran her thumb down his. "I do. I think
I do, and I guess that's why I'm still here."
"I'm glad you're still here. But it's not fair to you or to me to have
to put up with all this."
"You don't think it's worth it?" she asked.
It was his turn to become speechless, shocked.
He simply stared down at her small hand in his and blinked away the
tears that wanted to come.
"It used to be worth it," he said, choosing his words carefully. "If I
thought it would go back to the way it was, it would most definitely be
worth it. But things have changed too much for us to be the same."
"Couldn't that new thing be worth it? Couldn't we save this and make it
something entirely new?"
"Like what? Me the Skeptic, you the Believer? No, I don't think it would
work. I don't know how to be a skeptic and you don't know how to be a
believer."
She shook her head. "No, it could just be you and me. Nothing attached
to it."
"We've been trying that, haven't we?"
"I don't know about you, but I haven't really been trying."
He grinned at her sheepishly. "Yeah, me either. But this is better than
before, though, wouldn't you say?"
She looked at him with a glint of sarcasm. "You had to almost hit me
before this happened Mulder."
He winced and she squeezed his hand, meaning no harm done. They still
had that unspoken communication.
"So that means any time I need your attention, all I have to do is go
nuts on you?"
"That, and say you're going to knock up the first red head you see."
He grimaced. "That was pretty tasteless, I must admit."
She gave him a smile. "Yes, it was. But it worked."
He waggled his eyebrows at her, then sobered. "Does it really matter
what we believe or no longer believe? Does that have to be something our
relationship and our strength is built on?"
She cocked her head and frowned. "Well, we tried to ignore it, and look
what happened."
He nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so."
"Can we try to work it out?" she asked.
"Do you really want to?" He sounded hopeless.
"I think I've said this before but, I'd consider your leaving more than
a professsional loss."
"Oh that's wonderfully vague, Agent Scully."
"Mulder," she warned.
He sighed. "I don't want this to end. I really want this to be something
good again."
She sighed. "We sound like a married couple."
"Well, we practically are."
She smiled. "What do we need, marriage counseling?"
"Might not be bad," he said thoughtfully.
"Mulder, that was a joke."
"No really, Scully-"
"Mulder no. I'm not going in marriage counseling with you."
He smiled. "That sounded more like the old Scully."
She ran her fingers down his palm. "So, we agree to try?"
He watched her hand for a long time.
"We agree to try."
Oh, God, please let this work.
~~~~
end part one
adios
RM
~~don't flame me please~~
Title: The Fighters (2/2)
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No
infringement is intended.
Summary&Notes: Serious Angst ahead. Read at your own risk. Read part one
to understand. MSR in this part.
Spoiler: Everything.
===============
"In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that
Laid him down or
Cut him
Till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
'I am leaving, I am leaving
But the fighter still remains'."
'The Boxer' Simon & Garfunkel
===============
The Fighters
They just couldn't seem to stop.
He stared at her over the rim of his glass and tried to keep his voice
down, but anger boiled within him like hot acid and he wanted to take
her by the shoulders and shake her.
"Scully, how can you *think* that?"
She sighed and shook her head, once again letting her walls speak for
her.
"Mulder, I swear, if you don't shut up about it-"
"Scully, we're getting no where. This isn't working and you know it."
"I am NOT going to marriage counseling!" she hissed.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed hard; it hurt her but it was better
than him yanking her up and dashing her against the wall.
The people in the resteraunt turned as she made a noise of protest or
maybe fear, and he smiled politely and squeezed harder.
"Mulder! Stop."
"We need to work this out, and this is the only way to do it."
"It's ridiculous. I've never needed counseling and I certainly don't
need marriage counseling since we're not been married!"
"Scully, please," he groaned and caused the patrons to raise their heads
and stare again. "I don't want to lose this!"
She sat back, feeling as if he had slapped her in the face.
But he was right. They were losing each other to the constant bickering
and the strained silences.
"Okay, Mulder. Okay. We'll see how it goes."
He sighed. "I'll pay for it. No problem."
She took her hand away from his and picked up her fork, as if closing
the discussion.
He stared at her for a long time, watching her irritated movements, her
jerky chewing, and frustrated fingers.
"Is this worth it to you, Scully?" he whispered, suddenly overcome with
the idea that she didn't want this to be fixed.
She looked straight into his eyes and stared long and hard so that he
would never forget just what she said.
"We're worth this, Mulder. We are."
~~~~
The woman interviewed them separately and Scully was a bit nervous about
it. She had assumed they'd be doing it together and now, she was a bit
unsure of herself.
The entire thing consisted of explaining to the woman what had happened
recently (within her ability to do so per FBI regulations) and trying to
rationalize each of their actions.
It actually made her even more angry and she couldn't understand why
this would ever work.
Then Mulder went and she sat in the anteroom stewing, remembering all
the pain, reliving the hurts, and delving back into the madness.
When the psychologist called her back in, she could see the same anger
and resentment on Mulder's face and she realized the woman had provoked
it.
In less than two minutes she and Mulder were quietly insulting each
other and demeaning the other, without even realizing it.
The woman stopped them after a few minutes, noting the dejected looks on
their faces and the shame of what they had said.
She found it interesting to see that they seemed to still reach out to
each other even afterwards and that their eyes constantly stayed locked,
straying only when neccessary.
Scully apologized first and took his hand, squeezing it and trying to
forget he words he had said.
The woman stopped her. "No, no, no. Be angry at him. Keep it, feel it.
You shut it out too fast, Dana. You need to let everything go if you
hope to expel it. And Mulder, you just sit there and keep it in and push
it and push it until you explode and hurt everyone."
"No kidding," he said bitterly.
"Keep fighting." she said.
They stared at her.
"Go on now. Start fighting again."
They glanced at each other.
She nodded encouragement and they faced each other. Mulder opened his
mouth and shut it, then Sculy opened hers for a moment and close it too.
They couldn't. The fight was gone. They had nothing to fight about yet.
They were still too ashamed of the earlier one to start up again.
"Look, this is your problem. You fight and forget about it. Not that
forgiving isn't wonderful, but see, you never forgive. You just become
self absorbed and mortified that you're fighting and push away the pain.
Then it builds up again and comes out."
"How do we fix it?" he muttered.
"When the anger comes, go with it. Don't physically hurt each other, but
let yourself feel your anger and don't be ashamed."
"So, we fight and keep fighting?" Scully said, an eyebrow raised.
"Yes. Keep fighting until everything's been cleared up."
They glanced at each other.
What a load of crock.
~~~~
He exploded first.
She exploded next.
They hid it away and did not face it.
Then she exploded again and he got hurt and said things back and
wouldn't let her leave.
He kept talking until everything was gone and he had nothing to say and
she was sitting in the corner, stunned and shaking and wishing she could
leave.
He looked up after his tyrant and stood there, shaking as she shook.
She started crying, very softly so that her tears couldn't be heard, nor
really seen, except by Mulder.
"I didn't know," she whispered in an agonized voice. "I just told you
what I thought was another version of the truth. I didn't want to hurt
you or make you think I wasn't behind you."
He nodded and sank into his chair, no longer feeling the incredible
blackness that had always risen in him after hurting her.
She stood weakly and gathered her things and shoved papers into a
briefcase, pausing to wipe her eyes.
She headed for the door.
He panicked.
"Scully!"
She turned and he did not see any emotion there, nothing. Wasn't she
supposed to purge on him too? Wasn't that how it worked?
"Are you coming back?" he said.
She looked at him for a long time. "Yes. Yes, I'll be here."
It was her life too.
~~~~
He felt better that day.
He didn't want to make her mad anymore. He didn't carelessly dismiss
anything anymore. He was back.
She was not.
She was silent and moody and she kept everything internalized.
He tried to provoke her into a kind of catharsis, but she never rose to
the bait and he got sick of trying to make her.
She quit the counseling and drew away from him.
He was better--why couldn't she find that healing?
All she had in her was guilt. Guilt because this was all her fault, and
his lack of belief was because of her angry words that night in the
warehouse.
So she had no right to be angry with him, and no right to fight or be
upset by his seeming indifference.
She stayed quiet and managed to avoid any fights.
~~~~
He was sick and tired of her silence. He could deal with the anger, but
not with this coldness.
He drove to her own apartment instead of his that night and let himself
in while she was taking a shower.
The water stopped while he settled himself into the chair and when she
came out, towel wrapped atround her, she jolted and stared at him.
"Mulder? What the hell are you doing in my living room in the dark?"
He smiled with the similarity of it and stood.
"Waiting for you. Go get dressed."
Wordlessly she did and joined him on the couch after a few minutes.
"Look, Scully. I want you to tell me something."
She nodded reluctantly and twisted in her seat.
"Is this worth it to you?"
She nodded and looked up at him with fear.
"Do you want what we had before, or something different?"
"We can't be the people we were before, Mulder."
"Okay then. We'll be different. Different this time, Scully. I wasted
too much of my life endangering yours. I'm not going to keep-"
"Mulder." she said and her voice was twisted. "Please don't leave now.
Please. I know you think your quest is over, but mine just began. Like
you said, I don't know how to be the Believer."
He smiled. "I wasn't going to leave. I was going to do this."
He leaned forward and pressed close to her, breathingt the same air as
she until he couldn't even focus his eyes on hers anymore.
She shivered as his lips danced across hers in a delightful ballet of
passion and fear.
He leaned away. "We're going to be different this time, Scully. I'm not
letting this slip away from me."
She felt her body melting and she slid her eyes shut. "Mulder, how can
you possibly think this will work? If we can't even-"
"Shh. It will. Isn't it worth it?"
She watched his lips move and the way his chin jerked around like he was
excited or maybe afraid.
"It's worth it," she murmured and let him kiss her again.
"So we agree to try?" he whispered.
She shook her head. "No, we agree to work. We will work out, Mulder. No
more trying."
He smiled. "Okay, we'll work. That's optimism for you."
She curled up around him but couldn't stay calm.
"Mulder?"
"Yeah?" he asked, through her hair.
"I'm sorry that I blamed you for the cancer. I don't. I never really
did. I just was afraid that you'd get hurt trying to save me."
He shifted and cleared his throat.
"I don't really blame you for anything, Scully. I just was confused. I
was being told I should act one way and then I was told that was wrong.
I don't know, I was-"
"I know, Mulder. I know. But no more. I need you to believe in something
Mulder. I need that strength to know that you'll always be here."
"We have something else to put our strength in, Scully. Us. Not belief
in aliens or God or science, but us. And I think it's stronger and more
unshakable than anything."
She nodded. "It's worth it, Mulder. It is."
He still didn't know if he was a Believer anymore and neither did she,
but he did know he still had her.
The only truth he knew was her.
~~~~
end
adios
RM
Dragon King's Daughter --Chapter One
Date: Tue, 04 Aug 1998 00:05:27 +0000
Author: RM >[email protected]<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended. Some embellishment has been added for literary purposes to the
Japanese myth of Benzai-ten.
Notes: MSR(Eventually) X, A,
Summary: Mulder investigates some of his strange visions, keeping his
search from Scully and discovering more than he can handle.
Dedicated to Hong for his wonderful quote and his help in creating this.
~~~~~
Dragon King's Daughter
~~~~~
"Of course, there was no real dragon in the actual story."
--Ngech Lack
~~~~~
The old, Japanese woman looked down at her great grandchildren, eyes
crinkling with the sight of four eager faces starving for a story.
She smiled and looked up at the man who had come to see her, smiled
because today he would find his truth, even if he did not understand it.
Her cracked lips parted and soft Japanese filled the ears of the two
boys and two girls, letting their imaginations soar back into the
ancient times.
Then she took the man's hand, strength and possession in the grasp.
"I will tell you what I have come to know." she said and he sank down
beside her.
His face was rapt as she began.
"In Japan, the water is strength and it brings life and energy to man.
In these many waters lie creatures that also derive life from their
bountiful gifts. One of these monsters is the Dragon King, with his
subjects, in the deepest parts of the ocean and in the underground
channels that run to the lakes. "
The woman's finger mapped out the kingdom with a shaking flourish.
"It is in the lakes that they most like to live, and in one place
particular: Lake Biwa, north of Kyoto. Now, the Dragon King has many
wives, such is the nature of dragons, and one of his wives he loved the
most and had a daughter by. This child, the Dragon King's daughter, was
in human form and immortal, even rising to the position of goddess. This
is how the ancient ones described her: part dragon and part goddess, in
that her hair shone with the fire from the mouths of the creatures, her
eyes were the dark, animal black of their orbs, and her skin always
seemed to shimmer in the light, just as dragon scales blinded the man
who did not shield his eyes. So was the Dragon King's daughter, and she
had the name Benzai-ten because she had fallen in love with man and
given him many great gifts."
~~~~~
(two months earlier)
~~~~~
"What's the age?"
"12. I think age *was* a factor, Mulder. Just not really the main one."
He glanced to her out of the corner of his eye. "Then what?"
"Well . . . I'm not sure. There's something about all these victims that
ties together for me. I just can't pinpoint it."
Mulder gave a frustrated growl and let the folder drop back to his desk.
It was annoying that she was the one getting gut feelings about their
case while he had to sit in the dark and watch her try and figure it
out.
"Mulder . . ."
She sounded weary.
He shook his head. "No, no. Don't worry. I'm just tired. It's not you; I
know you're trying."
She glanced at him with surprise. So maybe he did understand her
sometimes.
"Go home, then, Mulder. We're getting nowhere. I won't understand this
any better if we stay up here all night."
She placed a tentative hand to his shoulder, then squeezed it softly.
He took her hand and ran his thumb along her skin, then reluctantly let
go.
"Yeah, let's go."
As he said the words, his vision shimmered again, just as it had been
doing all week. The office seemed to shake, then teeter on its side as
the earthquake in his eyes made things dizzy.
He let out a moan as the motion made him seasick, and saw her face as he
closed his eyes, clutching the desk as if for dear life.
When he opened his eyes, it had not stopped, only this time, there was
the dragon, standing in the corner, fire snorting out.
He shivered and blinked and rubbed his eyes even as he felt Scully's
hands on him, roaming his face in search of bumps or unseen medical
things.
"Mulder?" he heard.
The dragon drew off its haunches and paced toward him; the heat of its
breath singed his hair and made his face feel bleached dry.
He pushed Scully behind him and she let out a startled cry.
It broke the image and he found himself crouched behind the desk, Scully
shoved roughly into his arms, her eyes watching him in fear.
He blinked.
"Dragon Scully." He mumbled a response to the questions in her eyes.
He had to grudgingly give her credit; she turned in surprise to actually
look.
Then when she turned back, he wanted to melt into the floor.
"How long had this been happening?"
He shook his head. "I . . . This has been the worst. Usually it's just a
glimpse I get. Then there's the dreams of it, and the ocassional time I
see it looking straight at me."
She ran her fingers through his hair, still on the floor, and brushed it
out of his eyes.
"Mulder, I want you to come home with me tonight."
With a feeble grin he leered at her. "Mmm. Scully. Who knew my fear
could turn you on?"
She pulled him up off the floor, still deadly serious.
"Mulder, this was a very bad episode here. I don't want you taking up
your gun to defend yourself and accidentally shooting yourself."
"So you can be there for me to shoot instead?"
"Mulder."
He sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."
"Stop grumbling, Mulder. You know you love it."
He glanced at her in surprise, thinking -how'd she know?
But she was grinning, yanking on her summer coat and giving him his suit
jacket.
He smiled and followed her out.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The old woman looked to the man with knowing eyes.
"Then one day, the fear of man grew to untolerable limits, and they rose
up and killed the Dragon King as his children watched. The brothers of
Benzai-ten swore revenge from that day forward, and even now, they eat
the children of man. But Benzai-ten, a goddess of the Seven Gods of Good
Fortune, could not bear the hatred between man and dragon. She dedicated
her life to making amends for her brother's evil deeds. She is known as
the man's goddess, for she intercedes on his behalf when the dragons
come, and she has sympathy for lovers, doing small things to draw them
closer."
She took a breath and her eyes grew dark. "But the dragons will never
forget the death of their King, and even the Dragon King's daughter
cannot save you if they want you dead."
~~~~~
~~~~~
(one months earlier)
~~~~~
"Mulder, are you feeling better?" she asked as she came into the living
room.
He had gone home with her that first night, and been free of dragon
dreams, but as soon as he had gone to his own home the night after, he'd
had the visions.
Scully has insisted he stay with her, fearful he'd hurt himself, and
while she was there, he had not had a single dream. So he'd been staying
at her place for three weeks.
It baffled him that she didn't even mind.
"You're my good luck, Scully."
She smiled at him and sat down on the couch as he moved over for her.
"Not with this case, I'm not."
"We're kind of stumped on this one huh?"
She grimaced. "And it's an important case. There's got to be a reason
why all these Japanese children in various parts of the country are
turnign up dead!"
He took the case file from her hands. "Well, I've been trying to do some
background on Japanese culture online, but I'm getting nothing."
She sighed. "I think it's time we went to New York City, where most of
these deaths have occured."
He nodded, smiled at her. "I knew you'd say that. So I already got us
plane tickets. Our flight leaves in three hours."
She stared at him for a long moment. "You've been busy. What time
exactly did you get up this morning?"
He gave her a sheepish look. "I kind of never fell asleep."
"Mulder . . . I thought it was getting better."
"It is. I just haven't really wanted to fall asleep."
"Try to sleep on the plane all right? I'm going to need you alert."
~~~~~
"So, you think she could tell us something about these deaths?"
The strong, solid Japanese man looked back at them with undisguised
terror. It was a strange thing to see, such fear on such a strong
seeming man.
His dark eyes flickered. "She can tell you anything you need to know.
You just might hav trouble catching up to her is all."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, she's gone on vacation right now. To one of her daughter's house.
Then from there, she's going to visit her son and his children, and then
from there she's going to visit her granchildren. Then after that she
has three more stops along the way back."
Mulder sighed and glanced out at the New York City street, the smell of
dirty subway and an hour old lunch still rising from his clothes.
Scully eyed the man before her, his T-shirt untucked but clean, his
black Lee jeans crisp and new, and the lack of any kind of accent that
told her his family had been in New York for generations.
"Do you know when Ms. Mitanna will be back?"
The man shook his head. "Not sure. A few weeks? Maybe even a month?"
He looked regretfully at them and shrugged his shoulders. "The only
reason I even know about her is that my wife keeps talking about taking
our kids to her house, let her tell them stories about ancient Japan. I
don't really care one way or the other, but my wife loves the woman and
her myths."
Mulder nodded with a less than interested look.
Scully shook his hand. "Well, of you think of anything else, let us
know. Here's our card."
The man shot them a disgusted look. "I sure hope you catch this killer.
It's awful that all these kids are getting killed."
But his face still had that look: It can't happen to me.
Mulder led Scully off the man's front stoop, then down to the sidewalk,
still oddly silent.
They stood out there in the sun, the rays of light catching in her hair
and setting it on fire, by contrast making her eyes seem dark and deep.
"Mulder?"
He frowned as she seemed to shift, to shimmer like the visions of the
dragon caused. Her shape altered subtly and her skin seemed to be like
rainbowed scales of deep green and pink. Her body waxed between being
the Scully he knew and an entirely different creature.
His eyes closed then opened, his breath grew sharp.
And then there was the dragon, tongue caressing her face and breath
heating her cheeks.
He grabbed Scully and yanked her to him.
The world stopped shimmering.
She remained solid.
And frightened for him.
"Mulder, are you okay? What's going on?"
"The dragon again Scully. Only this time, you changed too."
~~~~~
~~~~~
The old woman Mitanna looked to the man, nodding as if in agreement to
his silent thoughts.
"Benzai-ten's brothers grew angry that she helped man so, and they
insisted that she marry a dragon to keep her under control. She refused,
but the dragon that was to be her intended promised that he would never
eat the children of man ever again and that he would convince the other
as well. He did all this because he was secretly in love with her, and
not really a bad dragon, just a little lost and confused, and in great
pain because of the Dragon King's death. So Benzai-ten agreed and
married the dragon. Love cured him of the desire to eat flesh, and
reluctantly convinced the others to quit. But still they hounded man,
and still they persued him."
~~~~~
~~~~~
(three weeks earlier)
~~~~~
When Scully came into his room with all of her luggage and a determined
look on her face, he grew frightened.
"What happened?" he said.
The last thing he knew, she had been going to the front desk to extend
their motel reservation yet another week, still waiting for Mrs. Mitanna
to make it back from her cross country trip.
"I'm a sucker, I know."
She sighed and dropped her suitcase and carryon to the extra bed in his
room, then smiled at a family walking by with their own luggage outside.
Mulder watched in astonishment as a little boy ran up to her with a huge
grin, smiling through his now dry tears as he hugged her fiercely.
He then ran back to his parents, waving.
"Scully?"
"I gave away my room," she blurt out.
He wanted to laugh, but the look of utter horror on her face kept him
from cracking even a smile.
"What?"
"I went down to the desk and that family, the Oshiro's, were there
looking kind of angry. Well it turned out the manager gave out their
rooms to us, thinking we'd only stay a few days, not weeks, and he
begged me to share with you so that they'd have a place to stay. Well, I
was going to say no, tell him it was his fault anyway, and that there
were a hundred other motels in New York City, but then one of the little
girls, Tomoko, started talking about this soccer tournament and how
they'd come from Okinawa to see it, and that every motel in the city was
either booked full or way too expensive . . . and I . . . the little boy
started to cry, Mulder."
He glanced to her with an unforgiving look. As if to say - so?
"He was crying. Mulder, if you-"
"No. It's okay, really. It's amusing, actually."
She stiffened. "What?"
"I mean, that a little crying and a pitiful look will make you melt."
"It wasn't that really."
"I was hoping not, because I've been trying that for years, and it never
gets me anywhere."
She rolled her eyes.
Suddenly he was snapped back to the case, pulled away from the moment
and into the narrow tunnel vision.
"Today, I'm going to go back around, talk to the fathers of each victim
here in New York. I hope you don't mind me going alone; I think they
want to say something, but you know men - can't seem weak in front of
women."
"I don't mind. Whatever's necessary. I want to close this case."
She suddenly glanced up in guilt. "I didn't mean it like that. I just
want to find the killer. Make it stop."
He looked at her with concern. She seemed odd today, almost more
sensitive than before.
"Are you okay, Scully?"
She shuddered. "I think I have your dragons on the brain."
He stopped dead still, his mind trying to grasp at a pattern but not
finding it.
"What do you mean?" he said, quiet and still.
"I dreamed that I watched you kill a huge dragon. And . . . and the
dragon called to me and it was my father's voice."
Her face looked untroubled, but her eyes seethed with turmoil. She
didn't want to know how his Freud centered mind would interpret such a
dream. She was sure it didn't at all mean she blamed him for her
father's death, because surely if she did even a little bit, she would
have seen it by then.
He reached out and took her hand. "Was it strange looking? Like it
wasn't your dream, maybe, but another person's memories?"
She seemed shocked that he would describe it so perfectly.
"Yes. Yes. Like it wasn't me watching, and not my father, and not you,
but yet it was all of that. I'd never before heard such a voice that was
supposedly my father, and I'd never before seen such a man that was
supposedly you-"
She stopped midsentence and her eyes dilated.
"The man that was you . . . he was Japanese."
~~~~~
~~~~~
Mitanna grabbed the woman's hand then, reaching out to touch her fire
hair and dragon spirit.
"The death of the Dragon King stayed with Benzai-ten and it haunted her
for her life, always makinig her wonder if she did the right thing by
staying friendly with her father's killers. Even as man killed her
brothers, even as the enmity grew between them, she remained loyal to
man, and to lovers, and to children. It is said that at the time of
death for a little one has come, that when their tiny soul is ready to
give up, the Dragon King's daughter reaches out to them and sustains
them for the night, giving them an added strength to combat their
illness. She is seen by the family as a shimmer of green and pink, and
then nothing."
~~~~~
~~~~~
Glancing in awe to the bed, Mulder walked into their room quietly,
setting down his jacket and tie with careful ease to keep her from
waking.
She lay curled on the extra bed, one arm tucked under her chin, the
other snaked around pillow. Her face was calm and untouched, and he
wanted to lean over and breathe in her serenity.
He lowered his body to the floor beside her and laid his head close to
hers, willing her to wake up and see him there, wanting to see her eyes
as they opened and were unguarded with him.
It took but a moment, and soon her eyes were peering into his, a sleepy
indifference making them seem deep and dark.
"What'd you find?" she whispered, her voice still low from sleep.
He grinned in triumph. "Lots. How about you?"
Her eyes drifted shut for one last moment of unreality, then she sat up,
pushing her hair from her face.
"Me too. I did some research of Japanese culture and how the dragon
symbol tied in. It also . . . well, it might explain your dreams."
"You not suggesting that these myths are to be believed, are you
Scully?"
She almost blushed. "No. Just that you probably have heard them before
and they've been stuck in your subconscious."
He shook his head and brushed a red hair from her lips. "Or maybe you
want to believe. . ."
~~~~~
end chapter one
Title: Dragon King's Daughter--Chapter Two
Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<
~~~~~
Dragon King's Daughter
~~~~~
"Of course there was no real dragon in the actual story."
--Ngech Lack
~~~~~
"So," she said anxiously, cutting him off from finishing his sentence.
"What is it you found?"
His lips smirked quickly, seeing her discomfort, then he sat back on the
bed, giving her the distance her eyes pleaded for.
"You go first. I want your unbiased information to relate perfectly with
my observations."
She frowned at him and then settled back into the headboard, her posture
arranged to show him that she was not afraid of him, even though, on
some level, she was.
"I went to the library and found some interesting sites online that
helped me gather further research. I found a few legends that tie in to
dragons and both are Japanese. It seems Chinese myths make dragons out
to be more of a symbol and less of an actual figure in history."
He studied her profile carefully, soaking in her words even as he
analyzed her movement.
Yes, it could be her. It could be the Dragon King's Daughter.
"One of these Japanese myths is centered around the Dragon King-"
"Wait! What?" His breath hitched as her information dovetailed so
beautifully with his that he almost couldn't believe it.
"The Dragon King. Let me finish. He was the god of the seas, the master
of them really. Not a god they worshipped, but a creature they revered.
The Dragon King kept the world of man and beast from colliding too
often, yet man was deeply afraid of him, and killed him finally."
Mulder waited, anxious for the rest of the story, hungering for the
added detail that explained to him what she was, what their case was,
and why the dreams, the dragon visions came to him.
But she said nothing and simply looked to him to start his story.
"That's it?"
"Well, no. There's another funny thing I came across."
"What's that?" His heart beat faster, mouth dried into socks.
"The rice goddess, her name is Uka no _Mitanna_, as in the name of that
old woman we're waiting for."
Mulder's eyebrows pulled together. "I don't really see how-"
"And, Mulder- the book said that she has divine messengers."
He gave her a blank look.
"Her divine messenger is the fox."
~~~~~
~~~~~
The old woman glanced to the couple before her, the way their heads were
bowed under the weight of their knowledge, the defeat in their eyes.
She had taken the hope that had not always dared to flourish in them,
and yet had for so long.
She wished to give them something back.
"Maybe it is not meant for the Dragon King's Daughter to ever be with
man in the way she desires, but it does not stop the man from reaching
for her with every part of his being. And maybe with the dragons at
peace, maybe when the man truly realizes how great her good gifts are,
then will he deserve the honor of being by her side."
The faint glimmer of hope was back; her eyes were clouded and misting,
almost as if a private fog covered her eyes, but at least they had the
spark needed to burn away the damp.
His posture was back, his shoulders more straight and he was looking at
the old woman, the Uka no Mitanna whose messengers were foxes and whose
stories kept the rice growing for another year.
"Thank you," he whispered and took his partner's hand.
The Dragon King's Daughter lifted her eyes and blessed mankind with her
smile.
Another one of the many gifts of good fortune the Daughter chose to
bestow on the man she loved.
~~~~~
~~~~~
He was smiling at her, shaking his head.
"So now I'm a divine messenger, is that it?"
She rolled her eyes and stretched her legs down the bed, managing to
push him a bit. "No. I think it's amusing."
"Obviously."
"So what did you observe?" She heavily emphasized 'observe' to let him
know he would pull nothing past her.
"I went back and talked to all the men that had children killed. At
first, nothing again. But then, about the fifth house, the guy acted
guilty, like he'd done it. It made me press him harder and finally he
started shaking. Shaking, Scully. It surprised me because he looked
afraid. As if something was out to get his entire family. And then he
told me."
Mulder paused; she knew he enjoyed drawing out the hunt, making the
closing kill last longer, savoring her darkness on the matter while he
was enlightened. So she gave him the hunger in her eyes to feed from,
and let him know that she wanted his knowledge, needed his observations.
In a way, it reaffirmed that she needed him.
"Told you what?"
"That he'd seen the dragon the day of his son's murder."
Instead of some mind blowing revelation, she had this.
Leaning back, glancing at him with doubt, she shook her head. "Mulder-"
"Scully. I went back, retraced my steps and asked specifically if the
other men had seen the dragon. They all had. And finally, someone told
me what that meant."
He took a breath.
"In Japanese culture, seeing a fiery dragon in a vision means the death
of a child is to follow. All the men saw this: a dragon breathing fire
and in the fire, a woman. She was protecting the child, and melting in
the heat, but not burning, and not dying. Each man thought it meant they
should make their children stay safely with their mother, the woman in
the vision. But it didn't work and they died anyway."
"So what does this mean? What's the dragon and what's the woman?"
Mulder glanced to her again, the words of a man half afraid and half
dead echoing through his mind.
She could be it. She could be the Dragon King's Daughter.
"Your Dragon King, Scully. He was murdered by man. Legend says that his
sons take revenge by slaughtering the children of the men who killed
their father. You will see a Son of the Dragon King a day before your
child is killed. But then, then there's the Daughter."
Scully's body shifted; she perched closer to the edge of the bed, like a
child enthralled by a fairy tale bedtime story.
"The Dragon King's Daughter. She is the woman protecting the children.
She is said to be in love with man, tries to protect them, even entered
into a pact with the dragons to keep them from eating children."
"Eating? I thought they were murdered, not taken for lunch."
Her words were harsh, but she could see the threatening release from
reality in his eyes.
"The Dragon King's Daughter married a dragon she did not love to obtain
the promise that the dragons would no longer harm the children. She
sacrficed her own love to protect the innocent."
Scully's head shook. Somehow she knew she was losing him to the myths.
"According to your theory, the children should be okay. What happened?"
"Her dragon husband has finally died and the Sons are not bound by the
promise any longer."
"So why doesn't she just marry another stupid dragon?"
She felt her own logic being swept away by his Japanese myths, his
hypnotizing eyes, his heady storytelling.
"She can't." Mulder's eyes swiveled to hers, taking in her fire hair,
her dark, animal eyes, her shimmering before him like a vision, like a
Dragon King's Daughter.
"Why not?" she said, breathless, thinking her own fate hung in the
balance, utterly dependent on the decision made by a mythical figure
from Japanese culture.
"Because she's in love with a man."
~~~~~
Her dreams were frightening: deep shadows without walls, dark passages
without substance, merely water and scales.
She fought for the surface, yearned for light and land, and found only
the drowning sensation that she was stuck forever under water.
She glanced down and found her body coated in dragon scales, her arms
bound by the thick armor of myths, her hair flaming in front of her
face.
She choked on the horror of it, scrambled away from the claws that kept
her down, kept her in the many waters, broke to the top, to where her
body screamed was up.
But there were scaly bodies surrounding her, pressing her down, berating
her with huge dark eyes that begged for her to love them. But they were
being wrong! couldn't they see that? They were hurting babies and she
could have not part of it, no part of killing the children of men.
Killing the innocent.
Didn't they see she had to leave them, that she did not belong under the
water?
She felt arms, hands pulling her from deep darkness; a man's love
drawing her from the prison of water.
And her eyes opened and she was no longer simply a dragon, but the
Dragon King's Daughter.
"Mulder?"
"We got a phone call, Scully."
"Huh?" She struggled to orient herself, to block out the feel of royalty
posessing her and the smell of water and seaweed.
"The killer has turned himself in. Said his sister came to him in a
dream and told him to confess."
Her dream suddenly overpowered her in drenching waves.
Dreams, sisters and brothers, and dragons.
"Let's go."
~~~~~
The man had Oriental features, yet something hidden in them that made
her think he was old, old, ancient. From ancient times.
But young. With close cropped hair and a rigid body that spoke of
effortless movement and quick strikes, quick kills.
He admitted to the killings and Mulder questioned him, even asked if
he'd seen dragons.
No flicker, no reaction. Just a dull no.
Too dull. Too much of nothing.
He knew. She could tell he knew. Knew what he was.
Mulder could guess it. The killer stared for a long moment at Scully,
then bowed to her, answered her questions first, gave her respect, yet
behind it there was some supressed rage. Some kind of inner anguish that
ate at him.
They got up to leave, to file the paperwork, make his arrest happen.
Scully glanced once to him, looked into his eyes.
And found the sea reflected back to her.
Found her image in his eyes, rising from the sea, scales of shimmering
rainbow, hair like the dragon's fire, eyes like a huge, intelligent
beast's.
And she knew.
Son of the Dragon King.
Brother to the Dragon King's Daughter.
Her dream. His repentance.
~~~~~
She was not surprised when the police called anxiously, forming words
before breath was there, speaking things she knew would happen.
For the honor of his family, they said, for the honor of his sister.
Death. He had committed suicide.
The baby killer, the dragon, had died.
Mulder seemed to know.
"He left a note. He said his sister would know what it meant, but so
far, we haven't been able to locate her," the man said, rushed.
Mulder glanced up at her, the extension in his hand but his look focused
on her tight face.
"Tell me what it said." she whispered. *I am his sister.*
"Simply this: They are not safe. You must protect the children of man."
She shivered, found the image of the woman in her mind's eyes, the woman
standing before the onslaught of fire, holding tightly to a child.
She glanced to Mulder; she had no idea what to do.
How to save the innocent?
~~~~~
end of chapter two
Title: Dragon King's Daughter--Chapter Three of Three
Author: RM >[email protected]<
~~~~~
Dragon King's Daughter
~~~~~
"Of course there was no real dragon in the actual story."
--Ngech Lack
~~~~~
"Mulder, how am I supposed to stop this? There are more Brothers out
there, more children on a death list . . . how can I even begin to know
where to start?"
"So, you believe this?"
Her eyes slanted to him, her body trembled.
"Maybe I do want to believe."
Did she know what she was saying? Did she realize that those words made
her slide right down into the deepest parts of him?
"Are you willing to do this?"
"If it saves innocent people, Mulder, then of course."
"Even if it totally shifts the world as you know it-"
"Mulder. Everything about my world is changed. Different. I like it that
way."
He sighed. "You dreamed of the dragon, you dreamed and he turned himself
in. You managed to keep him from killing again. Right?"
Her eyes shied away; his voice suddenly closed in on her.
How could this be real?
"Right?" he asked again, his hand coming to close around her wrist in a
tight, hard grip.
She breathed in. "Yes."
He nodded, glad she had somewhere, somehow allowed herself to believe,
if only to save others.
"So you have to dream again. But a controlled dream. Where you go to the
other dragons and stop them-"
"Mulder . . . this is so crazy . . . so wrong and not at all sane!" she
moaned. "This can't be true. It can't be something that happens. I'm not
Japanese, my real father isn't the Dragon King, my brothers hate what I
do sometimes, hate that I'm with you so much to the exclusion of my
family, but they don't kill children or-"
"Scully! Trust me for once. This is happening. This is real. Your
parallels with the myth are too close, too much a reality for it to be
some overactive imagination at work."
"How did this happen? How did the dragons come to think *I* am their
sister, their Dragon King's Daughter?"
"Like I said, the parallels. I have cases that predate this set. An
unexplained rash of deaths here, another there, all within about ten
years. They stop and then start again. They've been waiting for someone
to tell them to stop, tell them it's wrong. You're the person who can
finally do that. If you believe you can, then they will too."
She wanted to simply walk away, to leave the place with the suicide of
the man in the jail cell, close the case and say good-bye.
But there were innoncents to think of.
Mankind . . . her love for a man to think of.
"What do I have to do?"
~~~~~
She was hypnotized easier, faster, than he remembered possible. She
wanted it this time, did not so much dread the loss of control.
Before, it had been to find answers she had forgotten, now it was to fix
something, to do something outside herself.
And she trusted Mulder to keep her in control. To never reveal any of
what she might accidentally say while hypnotized.
Her hand was tightly clasped to his, a strong emotional link that kept
her balanced.
"Are you ready?" he said softly, his voice catering to the low notes,
deep and soothing.
She sighed, twisted her head, her eyes flickering but remaining closed.
"Yes. Ready."
"Okay. Dana I want you to know who you are right now. No matter what
happens later, in the deeper stages, when you get to this point again,
you will be Dana Scully."
"Dana Scully," she repeated.
"Dana Scully again. No matter what, despite what you might see, you are
Dana."
"Yes."
"Say it for me."
He could feel the pressure in her hand. "Dana . . . Dana Scully."
"Right. Good. Now, Dana, go deeper into the water there. Deeper until
your head is covered."
She made a choking noise, gagged and twisted her head.
"No water. No water."
"You are Benzai-ten. The water is your home, the home of the Dragon
King's Daughter."
"No. No. It's too dark."
"Who are you?"
"Benzai-ten . . . I want to leave."
"You have to do this. You have to make everything right again."
She wriggled in the chair, her face scrunched in a kind of mental agony.
He squeezed her hand tightly, bringing back her focus.
"Yes. I have to do this."
"Yes. You do. To save the innocents from your brothers."
"Save man from dragon."
He shivered. He had to make sure she was prepared. As Benzai-ten, he had
to know she could do this.
"Benzai-ten?"
"Yes."
"Why must you protect man from dragon?"
"I love man. I love . . ."
Mulder felt his hand tremble, reminded himself this was not Scully
really, but the part of her that he had made herself believe was
Benzai-ten.
She yanked on his arm, softly, her head turned as if she was were
speaking off to the side.
"They don't like that you're here. They want you to leave. They don't
like that I brought you down here."
"No. No, don't let go!" he said, grabbing her arm even as she tried to
twist away.
"They don't like you down here. I can't do this if they're being
agitated because they smell you in the water."
She slipped her hand from his.
Her body stiffened, her face grew sharp as she went further into the
unreality that was reality now.
He felt panic claw at him; letting go meant he had lost his link to her
in the place she was. She would hear his voice, but it would be a call
from far off.
A call easy to forget and turn numb to.
But her lips moved, her body shook.
"This is wrong," he heard her say, felt her say.
She gurgled, her back arched, her eyes rolled with a kind of pain he
could not imagine.
He reached for her hand, unsure how it could snap her mind, knowing only
that she was in pain now. . .
She suddenly went quiet and he yanked his hand away.
Was she all right now?
He glanced to her closely, felt time stop and spin wildly.
Her eyebrows were singed.
He shook, felt his heart stop, his breath explode out and not come back.
She twisted, but not in pain. She turned, angling her face up, as if
looking for the top, the way to get out of the water.
"Benzai-ten, did you convince them?"
"I . . . shhh. . . quiet. They do not like man. Please, please. . ."
Her eyes face slid back to rest, her body flinched, her mouth moved.
He had to wait.
~~~~~
It took an hour of panic, an hour of waiting, an hour of pure terror
before she whispered -
"Man?"
"Sc- Benzai-ten?" he whispered.
"It worked. I had to prove myself, my honor, but it worked."
He felt his weights lift from his chest.
"Oh . . . God thank you," he prayed, reaching for her hand again.
She flinched away.
"Don't come in the water. Don't."
"Okay, okay. Follow my voice. Break the surface with your head, let
yourself adjust slowly."
"Wait, wait. Let me swim up there to you, let me get there."
"Okay, okay. Swim. Just follow my voice, listen to it, let it take you
back up, back to the outside."
Her chest surged up as she broke the waters of her mind, a little gasp
forming her lips.
She sighed. "It tastes good. Air."
"Yes, it does. . ." he whispered, breathing easier now that she was
almost clear.
She reached for his hand.
Then she was jerked away. She thrashed, flailed wildly to find his grip.
"No! No. Let me go. Let me go back up. Let me stay with him . . .
Please!"
He figured she was talking to the dragons.
"You promised. . . promised. . . I wouldn't get hurt, no one would get
hurt. Not him, please."
Mulder felt his chest closing in, felt the strange sensation of water
rushing into his lungs, of being choked.
His vision darkened, he clawed at his throat, felt his body twist.
"No, no, not him. Please. I love him. . please. . .no. You promised.
Man! Take my hand. Take my hand and pull me up!"
How could he take her hand and pull her up if he was being sucked under?
Wait.
Love him.
She loved him.
Who? Her or Benzai-ten?
He felt water crash down on him.
"Mulder, Mulder, please. Help me. Take my hand....."
He struggled for air, for eyesight to find her hand. It was Scully
calling for him, Scully who was afraid she was getting pulled into the
water.
He lunged, felt skin in his fingertips and hung on.
She gasped, he sucked in air.
Air.
She was on land, floundering, gasping, coughing up muck and water, but
not dead.
His senses returned, the feeling of drowning abated.
She was gasping on the bed, her hair sweaty, clothes damp, brow
trickling with perspiration.
He leaned down, kissed her forehead.
"Come up, Scully. Come out of the water and past the shore to the place
where you are you. Come back Scully."
She sighed, shivered.
"Who are you?" he whispered, hoping the battle had not lost her for
good.
A long pause where she simply breathed.
"Dana . . . Dana Scully."
"Yes. Yes. Very good. Very good. Dana, when you've rested enough, when
all the bad things don't feel so much in you, then you can wake up,
okay?"
"Okay. I can sleep now?"
"Yes, Dana. Sleep."
"You too, Mulder."
He nodded and felt his eyes grow heavy, felt his body fall to hers.
His last thoughts spiraled like whirlpools.
Had she managed to hypnotize him, even as he hypnotized her?
How else to explain the choking, the drowning, and her command to sleep?
~~~~~
She woke to feel him tangled in her, seeing the message light on the
motel phone lit up.
She reached over, feeling a heavy body roll with her as she picked up
the receiver and dialed the front desk for her message.
It was Mitanna. She was back and could speak with them.
Scully closed her eyes, let the peacefulness of love drift through her,
remembered the events that had happened inside her mind and yet in
another plane all together.
"Scully?"
"I'm up," she murmured.
"Good job," he whispered into her hair, his breath stealing across her
skin like a dancer racing across stage.
She sighed, felt secure and dry.
"Thanks, but you pulled me up. You let me go when I needed you to, and
pulled me up when I needed it."
He ran a finger down the side of her neck, around the curve of her
shoulder.
"You did it for love. . . I did it for the same reasons."
~~~~~
end of all
adios
RM
you like?