Awakening was being pushed through a pane of glass, a wrench from darkness into darkness. Opening her eyes, she found it made no difference, except for the rusty pain of eyelids as they scraped upward. Her head shot flashes of agony down the length of her body. For a moment, her mind floundered, groping for memory. She'd entered her apartment and... she began to struggle wildly, and found little surprise in the bonds that held her fast to the cool metal surface beneath her. No, she thought as she reevaluated the feeling of imprisonment, not straps but a full-length wrap isolating and immobilizing her body. She tried to wiggle her fingers, then her toes. Nothing moved. Her chest had just enough slack to enable her to draw shallow, unfulfilling breaths. Her head, with the sole exception of her nose and eyes, appeared to be wrapped in the same not-quite-clothlike substance. She felt hysteria rising in depths of her mind and pushed it back. She wasn't planning on giving the sons-of-bitches the satisfaction. Instead, she took calm breaths, as deep as possible without pain, and tried to consider the situation rationally.
It didn't take three guesses to know who had arranged her abduction, and the name that sprang to mind certainly wasn't Rumplestiltskin. But why? There wasn't much more that they could take from her. If they wanted her life, they could have taken it in the apartment, and no one except Mulder would know it was anything but one of D.C.'s random acts of violence. It had to be about the papers. She could almost hear the soft voice of a nameless conspirator arranging a trade, "The papers for your partner, Agent Mulder". And Mulder would do it, a thought that was almost as frustrating as it was comforting. And they would once again be at square one, except that one more piece of Scully's sense of security would be shredded and thrown to the winds. All she had to do was wait, and it would all happen around her again.
She breathed out as hard as she could and arched her back, yanking on the imprisoned fingers. She twisted as much as possible beneath the wrap, trying to lever one shoulder beneath her writhing body. It was a strangely soundless battle. She could feel the breath whistling in and out of her nose, but heard nothing. Again and again she twisted, fighting for slack beneath the cover until a fine film of sweat enveloped her torso and she saw the multi-colored stars of incipient asphyxiation burst before her staring eyes. Only when she felt her grip on consciousness loosen, did her struggles lessen and leave her lying where she started, desperately wanting to pant but unable to wedge open her mouth.
The hysteria that had threatened before returned, stronger for the absence. The darkness pressed on her, heavier than her bonds. Scully closed her eyes hastily, and took momentary refuge in the abstract patterns that danced beneath her lids. A lecture from her college days crept into her mind, on the effects of sensory deprivation. Hallucinations, insanity, even death were all possible consequences of a mind that had been cut off from stimulation. Even after a short time, as short as two hours, of total sensory deprivation people had been known to have symptoms that followed them for days, or even weeks after the incident. Scully could feel the harsh thumps of her heartbeat, and resolutely calmed herself. Not me, I know the symptoms, I can stave off permanent effects for a while... as long as I keep calm. She took a measured breath, then another. Deliberately, she scraped her nipples against the wrap, but the substance was too smooth and slick to provide any sensation. Instead, she began to rub her tongue against the interior of her mouth. She concentrated on the half-ticklish feeling, grounded herself with it. The panic subsided slowly, falling away like the tide, leaving a calm that might have only been shock, but was welcome nonetheless. Memory surfaced through the calm, of Melissa's voice, "Wonderful, Dana! Told you could get it..."
"Aw, c'mon Dana, it'll be fun. Besides, I desperately need a partner for this."
Scully surveyed the cushions on the floor of her apartment skeptically. "Melissa, I sit all day, unless I'm crawling through God knows what. Why can't we go shopping?" Her sister grinned, the crystal at the front of her throat caught the light with a brilliant flash.
"This is not sitting, it's meditating! There is a difference, at least there is if you do it right. And it's better if there's more than one person, so indulge your kid sister, okay? After all, I did endure autopsy talk at dinner, right?"
Scully sighed, defeated. "All right, for a little while, anyway. What do I do?"
"Sit." Scully sat, then switched her legs to roughly copy Melissa's full lotus. Melissa surveyed her posture critically, then shrugged. "It'll do. Now, close your eyes. Good." Her voice softened, and became rhythmic and almost hypnotic. "Allow yourself to breathe deeply and simply enjoy being. I won't tell you to think of nothing, because that's a lot harder than it sounds. Instead, just concentrate on one part of yourself. One thought, one sensation, one heartbeat. Allow everything else to drain away, to become less important, to disappear. Don't try to push it away, just let it leave on its own. Release control, Dana, release everything... "
Scully had found herself floating, relaxed unlike anytime else, even sleep. The FBI, Mulder, the X-Files, everything, just away for now, leaving only Scully. Scully alone, Scully adrift, Scully.
Memory became reality, and Scully drifted serene.
-----
"I told you."
"Relax, my dear. She's been awake for less than an hour. We have plenty of time."
"She's stronger than you think."
"I'm counting on it. Now, my dear, perhaps it is time we awaken her from her dream?"
The smoking man took another deep pull on his cigarette, and the woman standing at his shoulder nodded once. Her dark hair curled around her shoulders as she watched the monitors that hissed and beeped the statistics of Scully's life. She couldn't help but feel a small flash of pride for the even beeps of Scully's heart. She fingered the glittering crystal at her throat and smiled. "See, I told you you could do it, Dana."
Links to other sites on the Web
Back to the Archive
Part One
Part Three
Will write for feedback... or chocolate!
© 1997 [email protected]
Get your own Free Home Page