"I've been trapped inside of my own mind afraid to open my eyes to what I'd find. I don't want to live like this anymore." –From Quasimodo by Lifehouse
"Well, here we are," Doggett announced unnecessarily.
The house was overgrown with vines, and two of the three visible windows were broken.
The front door creaked open, and Reyes had a strange flashback from a junior high game of Purple Hearts. The game involved mentally exploring an imagined house and trying to scare themselves for giggles. She had played the game many times and pictured many houses, but one stuck out in her mind more than any. It had looked just like this one on the outside, but on the inside it had been completely bare. Empty. Not a speck of dust or a single piece of furniture.
The house they were going to stay in was completely furnished and everything was covered in dusty sheets. There was no electricity or running water, but the pantry had been stocked with non-perishable foods, and the safe room (behind a false wall in the basement) was full of emergency supplies.
They worked out a schedule in which one couple would sleep for eight hours while the other kept watch, and then they'd switch. Then they'd all four be up four be up for the last eight hour shift, taking turns keeping watch.
One afternoon, after they'd been there a few days and gotten the schedule down, Mulder and Scully were keeping watch while Doggett and Reyes were downstairs preparing some sort of dinner.
"Rummy!" Mulder called excitedly as he picked up the card Scully had just laid down and added it to one of his piles. They were sitting in the attic of the old house, which conveniently had 360 degree-tinted windows.
Doggett and Reyes came upstairs with some soup (heated on a propane burner) and crackers. They had water from an outdoor pump.
They ate in silence. There were no words for what they were feeling. Okay actually there were—exhaustion, hopelessness, fear, confusion—but no one felt like talking about these things. So they focused on the basics: eating, sleeping, keeping watch, playing cards to pass the time, and waiting. Something was about to happen. They all knew it, but no one knew when or what.
Monica, the most sensitive of the bunch, would've described it as a huge stack of blocks being added to regularly. They were piled just so, and one block set out of balance, one little sneeze, or one mean kid who decides to throw something at the bottom, could send the whole pile crashing.
"Well, here we are," Doggett announced unnecessarily.
The house was overgrown with vines, and two of the three visible windows were broken.
The front door creaked open, and Reyes had a strange flashback from a junior high game of Purple Hearts. The game involved mentally exploring an imagined house and trying to scare themselves for giggles. She had played the game many times and pictured many houses, but one stuck out in her mind more than any. It had looked just like this one on the outside, but on the inside it had been completely bare. Empty. Not a speck of dust or a single piece of furniture.
The house they were going to stay in was completely furnished and everything was covered in dusty sheets. There was no electricity or running water, but the pantry had been stocked with non-perishable foods, and the safe room (behind a false wall in the basement) was full of emergency supplies.
They worked out a schedule in which one couple would sleep for eight hours while the other kept watch, and then they'd switch. Then they'd all four be up four be up for the last eight hour shift, taking turns keeping watch.
One afternoon, after they'd been there a few days and gotten the schedule down, Mulder and Scully were keeping watch while Doggett and Reyes were downstairs preparing some sort of dinner.
"Rummy!" Mulder called excitedly as he picked up the card Scully had just laid down and added it to one of his piles. They were sitting in the attic of the old house, which conveniently had 360 degree-tinted windows.
Doggett and Reyes came upstairs with some soup (heated on a propane burner) and crackers. They had water from an outdoor pump.
They ate in silence. There were no words for what they were feeling. Okay actually there were—exhaustion, hopelessness, fear, confusion—but no one felt like talking about these things. So they focused on the basics: eating, sleeping, keeping watch, playing cards to pass the time, and waiting. Something was about to happen. They all knew it, but no one knew when or what.
Monica, the most sensitive of the bunch, would've described it as a huge stack of blocks being added to regularly. They were piled just so, and one block set out of balance, one little sneeze, or one mean kid who decides to throw something at the bottom, could send the whole pile crashing.