TITLE: Dream Through My Heart.
AUTHOR:   Louise Andrews
FEEDBACK:  LouiseAndrews55@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: Vignette, MSR
DISTRIBUTION: Xemplary, yes. I'll post at Gossamer.
Others please ask.
SPOILERS:  There are hints at previous episodes but no
real spoilers.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Sadly, these characters are not mine,
they belong to others and no infringement on the
rights of their true owners is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: to follow.
SUMMARY: The trials and horrors were over, his hospital
stay complete and his recuperation underway. He came
home last night, home to her apartment, home to love.



Nest

I awaken

To find your head
Loaded with sleep,
Branching my chest.

Feel the streams
Of your breathing
Dream through my heart.

From the new day,
Light glimpses
The nape of your neck.

Tender is the weight
Of your sleeping thought

And all the worlds
That will come back

When you raise your head
And look.

John O'Donohue



***********************************
Dana Scully's apartment, early morning.
***********************************

You're here.

This is the first morning I can remember in so long.
Time has been a stream with no definition -- only
measured by the number of times I thought of you.
You have been my anchor

... to sanity, to life.

I was torn from you.

Alone.

Adrift without you.

Pain scorched my body, but none so hot and searing as
the realization that I might never see you again.

I couldn't count hours -- only thoughts of you, your face
in some dreaming place. My Scully, safe and away from
that place of horror and those men and beings who valued
the sanctity of life and the dignity of the human spirit
as so cheap a thing.

You were out of harm's way; that was all I needed to
know. They didn't have you, even though I knew you were
looking -- searching for me -- never giving up.

You're here now, your head heavy on my chest, rising and
falling with my breathing. Your own breath, warm and
moist, whispering soft as silk across my skin.

Even when I was gone, I was as close to you as I am now.
I longed to feel your skin touch mine; I longed to hold
you like this, but your life essence was a part of me --
always. Every fiber of my being, every cell, every nerve
ending, contained you.

"I won't let you go alone" -- a constant echo in my
mind.

You were always with me, Scully; my strength was yours,
my hope was you.

And now you stir, your warm body, soft and relaxed within
my arms. Still, in a sleeping world, your body sinks and
melts into mine. I am held fast where I want to be,
secured by the invisible ties of your longing.

This morning time is measurable. I wake from a night of
sleep and recognize the morning light, sparkling with
its fresh newness, shining through each chink in the
blind at your window and coalescing in a soft pool of
amber. Each morning ray bathes walls and furniture and
your face in its healing light.

Time is ready to be divided by common daily tasks and
the hands of the clock face, passing in seconds, minutes
and hours again, not just a stream punctuated only by
pain.

But this moment -- this exquisite second-- stands still.
I linger in this instant as Time expands, allowing me to
fix you in my memory and feel your physical presence
close and real.


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

She brought him home last night, to her apartment, to
her bed and to her heart.

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

I rise from the depth of sleep to the verge of
wakefulness.

My eyelids register the pale saffron glow of early
morning light, and I hear his soft, even breaths that
murmur through my hair. The gentle thuds of his heart
beat against his chest wall -- comfort is this rhythm
and song of life. As if to swell the harmony of the
song, I feel the soft fluttering of my own pulse where
my throat rests against Mulder's warm skin. An irregular
rhythm of small kicking movements from the sweet life
within me provides the descant.

Full wakefulness is nudging me, but I resist awhile
longer, hovering on the brink.

I am at peace; I am complete.

We are complete ...

... we are a family.


The constant ache is gone; the tight fingers of fear
that have squeezed my heart from the moment I knew you
had been taken, unclench -- released by your return.

There is no more need to tamp down anger and bitterness,
or the maelstrom that came from fearing you were lost to
me forever -- that no searching would find you, that
there would be no return. I no longer need to hold my
love in some walled up place, afraid that allowing its
release would be my undoing, that I would fly apart and
no one would ever be able to put the pieces back
together again.

I was lost without you, isolated. Exhaustion was my
constant companion -- a tiredness of the spirit and
heart, the result of the need to protect myself and my
unborn child from the world's prying eyes. My defense
was an old friend, the maintenance of Agent Scully's
calm, professional exterior. I was drained by the energy
needed to uphold the lie, each new day a trial of
endurance.

My resolve was so nearly broken in those early days of
defeat. My utter failure to find you in that barren
desert hurt more than my bruised and battered body,
crying out in anguish on a hospital floor -- my hope
fading as quickly as the tears that spilled. But hope
was born of despair. There was no other direction to
take; the choice was simple. I could accept my
powerlessness and defeat and lose myself in the process,
or go on searching. I owed the gift of hope to the life
I carried.

The coldness and emptiness of this bed seeped into my
spirit -- mornings of waking alone, those first moments
of blessed peace so quickly seared and shattered by the
realization that you were still missing.

Now peace and happiness overwhelm me, invade me, wrap
around me and cocoon me. As I bask in your closeness and
the feel of you against me, I touch life within and
without.

I fully leave the world of sleep and experience the same
thrill of excitement Christmas morning brought when I
was a child -- that wonderful sensation like bubbles
inside, rushing in their lightness to escape the
confines of my body.

Contentment remains, and I never want to leave.

I know more is waiting for me, if I only open my eyes
and look

at you ...

Mulder.


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

He anticipates the moment when their eyes will meet. He
hears her sigh as his loving hands sweep over her in
gentle caress. She opens her eyes to look for him --
those blue eyes, intense and shimmering with emotion.
The smile that transforms her face is incandescent, and
he knows it's true ...


"And all the worlds
That will come back

When you raise your head
And look".


End.


AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This story would never have reached
fruition without the encouragement, advice,
friendship, and beta skills of dlynn to whom I am
eternally grateful, especially for her friendship.