Barely If At All
***
She never wanted to open her eyes again. She was safe where she was, deep
inside the eye of her mind. In his bed, between the sheets he had slept on,
her face pressed into his pillow. His scent surrounded her, giving her a
false sense of comfort.
But she knew, deep down inside, that he was lost.
That's why she didn't sleep, because that was when the dreams came. Dreams of
his torture, his pain. Dreams of her own half remembered abduction, dreams
that she awake screaming from. Dreams that made her claw at her throat to
make sure she could breathe. Sleep wasn't worth the pain of her dreams.
Thinking is what she did, for the hours that she lay there in her haven.
Scattered images assailed her mind. They were images of bug-bites, sunflower
seed and of all the kisses that never happened. They were his eyes when he
got excited, the teasing look when she doubted him, and then the emptiness
when his hope was gone.
All the while she had watched, aching for him, but he was an island. He was
like a child, in awe of the world and amazed with all around him. Truth was
his Judas, and like all children he became jaded by barren reality. He'd
taken all the pain into him, the well of his pain seemed bottomless, but
still he'd smiled for her.
He was her only friend. They were more intimate than lovers, closer than
family, and stronger than anything that could ever come before them. They had
walked a mile together since the day of their first meeting, but at full
circle time had stopped. Where it had all began it had all ended.
It had started with an X on the pavement, and it had ended there. He was
gone, and she was alone.
She knew that sleep would come of it's own accord, and curled into a tight
ball in the prison of his bed she clutched his shirt to her chest and cried.
For the first time in her life Dana Katherine Scully knew that she had lost
everything
***
She never wanted to open her eyes again. She was safe where she was, deep
inside the eye of her mind. In his bed, between the sheets he had slept on,
her face pressed into his pillow. His scent surrounded her, giving her a
false sense of comfort.
But she knew, deep down inside, that he was lost.
That's why she didn't sleep, because that was when the dreams came. Dreams of
his torture, his pain. Dreams of her own half remembered abduction, dreams
that she awake screaming from. Dreams that made her claw at her throat to
make sure she could breathe. Sleep wasn't worth the pain of her dreams.
Thinking is what she did, for the hours that she lay there in her haven.
Scattered images assailed her mind. They were images of bug-bites, sunflower
seed and of all the kisses that never happened. They were his eyes when he
got excited, the teasing look when she doubted him, and then the emptiness
when his hope was gone.
All the while she had watched, aching for him, but he was an island. He was
like a child, in awe of the world and amazed with all around him. Truth was
his Judas, and like all children he became jaded by barren reality. He'd
taken all the pain into him, the well of his pain seemed bottomless, but
still he'd smiled for her.
He was her only friend. They were more intimate than lovers, closer than
family, and stronger than anything that could ever come before them. They had
walked a mile together since the day of their first meeting, but at full
circle time had stopped. Where it had all began it had all ended.
It had started with an X on the pavement, and it had ended there. He was
gone, and she was alone.
She knew that sleep would come of it's own accord, and curled into a tight
ball in the prison of his bed she clutched his shirt to her chest and cried.
For the first time in her life Dana Katherine Scully knew that she had lost
everything