Title: Delirium of Silence
Author: Danamaru
Rating: PG - Scully POV
Spoilers: Not really, although there may be vague references to season 7 and 8 (actually I would say Requiem, although not a particular favourite of mine, there are passing phrases that I may have used and referenced to)
Disclaimer: Even if I got a job a scriptwriter, the things I would want to happen to them would be re-written by Chris Carter. So until I get that dream job, I'll just leave the paychecks to the professionals.
Feedback: Very much appreciated, I will reply to everyone who sends it!! This is my mind food, please don't let me starve:)
Distribution: Ephemeral and Gossamer are done - anyone else, sure - drop me a wee note!
Author Notes: I have had this sitting on my hard drive for a little while, I wasn't going to post it, but ahh forget it - you guys can have it! Based on a few lyrics from the fantastic Sarah McLachlan, her words just got this going.
*********
In this silence, I believe....
Falling, sinking. No stopping it, my arms flay out from my side as the atmosphere draws me deeper and deeper into nothing. Black. Space.
I call for him, but he is silent as always and my voice is weakened from the lack of physical strength I have left in my body.
I search for him in the nothingness, seeing a light I long to touch with every passing moment, but can't quite get there, fighting is useless, my fists slice through the thick blackness with no sound.
As I sink further into unknown territory, energy is emerging from the delirium of this place, a blue-grey swirl of motion reassuring me that I am not alone.
****
I open my eyes and still see the images from my dream, reality setting in as I rub my tired eyes.
Morning has arrived. Life is still going on. The silence of the night is broken by the sound of birds chirping and car engines trailing in the background. I am back in the light, in my apartment, my bed, alone.
Sleep deprivation is the reason for this dream, it has to be, there is no other explanation for having the same dream four nights in a row. The sun is streaming through the slats in the blind as I try to shield my sensitive eyes from the glare. The cool air swirls around my
shoulders as I sit up, breathing in deeply, nausea has yet to set in, but I prepare myself for it, knowing that once I stand it will hurl me to the bathroom.
Who said that pregnancy was a time for wonder and joy? Give me peace.
However, no matter how much grief it's giving me, it's still my miracle, it belongs to me and I am trying to protect it by my silence, even from my own mother. I'll never understand why I told Assistant Director Skinner, but there was an overwhelming feeling in me telling me to.
My reasons for not telling anyone else are perhaps selfish, but I don't want to share it with anyone, not yet.
I have many questions for yet I have to find the answers and until I do, this silence will be the shield.
Standing up, I wait for the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach that will lead me to the first stop of the morning, every morning for the past two weeks.
Straining my back to an upright position from my previous bent situation, I look at myself in the mirror, looking for a change. The reflection is startling, blood shot eyes from vomiting, dark circles forming, invading my face forcing my eyes back further to the shape of a crevice.
I sigh as I reach for the toothbrush. Monday.
Thanks for reading
Author's Notes II: Should I keep this going or let it fade?
Author: Danamaru
Rating: PG - Scully POV
Spoilers: Not really, although there may be vague references to season 7 and 8 (actually I would say Requiem, although not a particular favourite of mine, there are passing phrases that I may have used and referenced to)
Disclaimer: Even if I got a job a scriptwriter, the things I would want to happen to them would be re-written by Chris Carter. So until I get that dream job, I'll just leave the paychecks to the professionals.
Feedback: Very much appreciated, I will reply to everyone who sends it!! This is my mind food, please don't let me starve:)
Distribution: Ephemeral and Gossamer are done - anyone else, sure - drop me a wee note!
Author Notes: I have had this sitting on my hard drive for a little while, I wasn't going to post it, but ahh forget it - you guys can have it! Based on a few lyrics from the fantastic Sarah McLachlan, her words just got this going.
*********
In this silence, I believe....
Falling, sinking. No stopping it, my arms flay out from my side as the atmosphere draws me deeper and deeper into nothing. Black. Space.
I call for him, but he is silent as always and my voice is weakened from the lack of physical strength I have left in my body.
I search for him in the nothingness, seeing a light I long to touch with every passing moment, but can't quite get there, fighting is useless, my fists slice through the thick blackness with no sound.
As I sink further into unknown territory, energy is emerging from the delirium of this place, a blue-grey swirl of motion reassuring me that I am not alone.
****
I open my eyes and still see the images from my dream, reality setting in as I rub my tired eyes.
Morning has arrived. Life is still going on. The silence of the night is broken by the sound of birds chirping and car engines trailing in the background. I am back in the light, in my apartment, my bed, alone.
Sleep deprivation is the reason for this dream, it has to be, there is no other explanation for having the same dream four nights in a row. The sun is streaming through the slats in the blind as I try to shield my sensitive eyes from the glare. The cool air swirls around my
shoulders as I sit up, breathing in deeply, nausea has yet to set in, but I prepare myself for it, knowing that once I stand it will hurl me to the bathroom.
Who said that pregnancy was a time for wonder and joy? Give me peace.
However, no matter how much grief it's giving me, it's still my miracle, it belongs to me and I am trying to protect it by my silence, even from my own mother. I'll never understand why I told Assistant Director Skinner, but there was an overwhelming feeling in me telling me to.
My reasons for not telling anyone else are perhaps selfish, but I don't want to share it with anyone, not yet.
I have many questions for yet I have to find the answers and until I do, this silence will be the shield.
Standing up, I wait for the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach that will lead me to the first stop of the morning, every morning for the past two weeks.
Straining my back to an upright position from my previous bent situation, I look at myself in the mirror, looking for a change. The reflection is startling, blood shot eyes from vomiting, dark circles forming, invading my face forcing my eyes back further to the shape of a crevice.
I sigh as I reach for the toothbrush. Monday.
Thanks for reading
Author's Notes II: Should I keep this going or let it fade?