Title: Clairvoyance Author: M (Starbuk42@aol.com ) Rating: G Category: VA Spoilers: Biogenesis Summary: Yep, another Scully visits Mulder in the padded cell fic. This occurs after her return from the Ivory Coast. (Mulder, First Person) Archive: Gossamer, yes. Anywhere else, ask me first. I'll let you. Disclaimer: Not mine. Thanks: To Sue Schramm for catching all my mistakes and making sure I don't seem quite as stupid as I usually would. Thanks, Sue :) Notes: None. My website: http://members.aol.com/Starbuk42/ Enjoy! Clairvoyance Five days ago it stopped. Just stopped. I'd screamed so loud and for so long that my voice was hoarse, and even if it wasn't, I wouldn't have had the energy to continue. My head was pounding, and although the room was completely silent, the jumbled voices continued. Somehow they were even louder than they had ever been. A sudden pain seared through my head -- a pain sharper than what I'd felt before. It swam to all parts of my brain, and I felt as if it were going to tear me apart. But it didn't stop there. It grew and grew until it expanded and enveloped my entire body and I lay crumpled on the floor, holding my still aching head. The pain was just too much. And as I lay there, I began mumbling desperately to myself, "Stopstopstopstopstopstopstop." I hadn't even realized that I'd begun to sob until the only sound I was hearing was my own weak, strangled cry. The pain had abruptly disappeared, and I was left with a dull ache. The noise had faded softly into the background, but I was too tired to consider the reasons behind it. And so I just slept. That was five days ago. It seems like an eternity. I've done nothing in between that short space of time but wait. Wait and listen. I still hear it, still hear it every time someone is near, but somehow I've been able to push it into the back of my mind. Control it. But only slightly. When the doctors and their orderlies come in, all I hear is the jumble of various thoughts, and the pounding in my head begins to increase. It is too many thoughts at once. Too many thoughts to filter through. It's been agony these past few days. But it's ok now because you're here. I can't see you just yet, but I can sense your presence. And not through hearing your thoughts. I just know. Somehow I always know. You enter the room cautiously, as if you are afraid to disturb me. And you remain close to the door, unsure if you should go any further. "Hello, Mulder," you say softly. I don't answer, unsure of exactly what to say. With my silence, I feel your thoughts begin to turn towards concern, and you increase your pace as you travel closer to me. But eventually, as you're nearly half way across the room, I respond, "Welcome back." My voice is low and tired, and I'm sure you realize I haven't slept since you left. But if that is so, you make no indication of it. Relief. That's what I feel from you now. Relief that I am alright. And I turn just in time to catch the glint in your eyes as you smile. You close the distance between us and immediately reach up to feel my forehead. My eyes slip shut as your hand lingers on my cheek for just a second before it falls once again to your side. And in that moment a million thoughts flood into my mind -- each one a layer of complex emotions. Your emotions. Feelings you often hide from me. And now that I'm faced with them, I'm afraid to delve in, afraid to understand. Isn't it ironic that I search for clarity and that when I am finally faced with it, I cannot bear to look? Or perhaps it is that your emotions have always been a mystery to me, and that has somehow always defined you. To finally begin to understand them this way seems wrong, and so I look away. "Are you feeling better?" you ask. I nod, still slightly overwhelmed by the thoughts that are beginning to fade from my head. "Well, that's what the doctors tell me." The room is enveloped in silence as you struggle with words to explain to me what you've discovered. You still don't realize that that isn't necessary. I already know. You sigh deeply and turn your eyes away from mine, and as you do so, I feel a slight pain. But it is not my own. It is the pain of a headache that has plagued you for the entire day. "You should probably take something for that," I tell you. You look questioningly at me, wondering exactly how I knew you were in pain. And you consider for just the slightest moment that I might actually be able to read your thoughts. That that is what is happening to me. That that really is how I knew about what Barnes did and what I said Skinner was hiding. But you only consider it for a second. And then your skeptical mind dismisses the thought, and you decide I only knew because you had not hidden your pain well enough. "I'm fine," you reply after a few seconds, and I believe it. The pain is better than it had been earlier in the day. "Well, what did you find?" I ask just to hear you explain it to me. Somehow your voice has always been a comfort -- tender and soothing. Like velvet and sweet, soft music. Like a cool breeze against the heat of the pain that suddenly returns to my head. But you are unable to answer, still struggling to understand the meaning of what you've found. "More artifacts?" I offer. You nod. "And something more." A ship, your mind tells me. I nod, and my eyes tell you I already know. But you are not sure what to make of it, what connection it has to me. You turn away, frustrated that the artifacts couldn't tell you what was wrong or how to help me. It was the reason you left, and you feel that, in a way, you've failed. I reach out slowly and grasp your hand. "It's ok, Scully. You just need a little more time." You stare at me, once again wondering how I could have known. And this time you decide that it's not some psychic ability that has led me to your thoughts, but that we've always been able to communicate this way. Although, recently, we just haven't wanted to listen. "I don't even know how to begin searching for an answer, Mulder. But I'm going to try, and I'm going to get you out of here." You honestly don't know, but you believe you can find out. And if you believe that you can, that's hope enough for me. You give my hand a squeeze that tells me it is time for you to leave. A panicked feeling washes over me, and I move my fingers to your wrist and tighten my grip. You raise your soft, cool palm to my face, pleading with me not to do this, not to make this difficult. I sigh, letting my hold loosen and finally slip away. A tight smile forms on your lips, and you begin moving reluctantly towards the door. 'I'll be back soon,' your eyes tell me this time, not your thoughts. "I know you will," I say. And as I watch you exit, I feel as if the world is closing in on me -- a darkness beginning to descend upon my tired brain. The strength that kept me standing as you were here is gone now, and I cannot fight the exhaustion any longer. But strangely enough, resistance is the last thing on my mind. Somehow the prospect of you being here when I awaken allows me a bit of ease. And my eyes slip shut as consciousness fades slowly away. The End