Within Thoughts
Episode Without - Scene 7 - In the desert
"You're so close now," Gibson Praise told Scully before Skinner lifted him up from the sand to take him away.
Five final little words, and he left Agent Scully facing darkness.
Sure he wanted to say many more words to her but he felt helpless. He knew he wouldn't be able to convey what would matter the most to her, and for many years he had learned the harsh way to remain sober and spare words. Plus, above all, he was still a boy despite his unnatural and too mature mind.
So, lying in strong and safe arms, Gibson kept his mouth shut. Focusing on Skinner's straightforward mind, he blocked Scully's heartbreaking soul out and let her angst slide over him and leak into the desert void.
As for Mulder… Gibson closed his eyes tight, painfully sighing through twisted lips.
Earlier
Gibson woke up in a jolt on his dirty bunk.
The hideout in the desert had always been a safe place for him, far from noisy thoughts and disturbed minds. There, he could rest in peaceful quietness and forget his sometimes unbearable condition.
Safety had now disappeared. He was once again hunted.
Though, what had woken him up wasn't a hunter's brain.
It was a prey's one. A fly caught in a spider net.
"Mulder!" he gasped in his jolt.
Soon and despite the risks Gibson stepped out of the underground, unable to resist the desperate spell. Walking through the night at the rhythm of his slowing down heart rate, the boy wondered how Mulder had been able to reach him so fiercely. What had called him out from sleep weren't clear thoughts or mere words. It had been a blurry aura of despair, pain and helpless hope, black molasses of mumbled sounds and shapeless lights.
Yet, Gibson had instantly recognized Mulder's mind, as if the two of them shared common cells.
Not that far from his hideout, Gibson sat down on the dry sand. His instinct told him that it was the right spot; there, he'd be able to channel Mulder's chaotic vibes and read his mind. Though, it wasn't an easy task as a fuzzy curtain of alien turbulence was blocking the way.
Huge extraterrestrial forces were indeed displayed in front of Gibson; he could feel and taste them, yet all he could see was a starry sky over the desert. It was fascinating and thrilling, but he felt no fear. Somehow, Gibson was invisible to the Bounty Hunter, maybe because being too close to the alien ship. It was just a guess and Gibson didn't think of it too much, focusing on Mulder's brainwaves.
Suddenly, a flow of raw pain and primitive fear hit him.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…
For a second Gibson panicked, ready to rise up and run despite his broken leg. He remained still. He was still a boy but he had become brave, up to face the worst.
Arrrr…Nnnnn… Ssshhh…Wwww…
Calming down then directing his powers, Gibson soon succeeded in shaping Mulder's consciousness out of all the disturbances. And, seconds passing, Mulder's thoughts became more bearable and decipherable.
Dark. Ice. Sharp. Dead. Dark. Ice. Sharp. Dead. Dead. Dead.
Overpassing terror, Mulder's will was fighting hard to remain sane while making sense of his condition.
Bloody smell. Lacerations. Holes. Palate gone. Agony. Slaughtered. No escape. Blood. Pain.
It seemed to Gibson that Mulder wasn't meant to be aware of his present state, to feel anything at all, or just to be conscious. But Mulder had decided to overcome the hallucinogenic drugs or whatever means maintaining him into obliviousness.
Alive. Alive. Alive. No escape. Alive. Alive. Help. Help.
Something might have awakened the FBI Agent, Gibson guessed. My presence, or, more probably, Agent Scully's. She wasn't far away, she was approaching.
Ignore. Don't look. Don't feel. It's not real. Focus.
Gibson admired how the man was training his senses and mind to annihilate and transform reality.
It didn't happen. It didn't happen. I'm alive.
Mulder was willfully ignoring the piercing nails and hooks pinning him down on the cold hard chair, then putting away memories of his flesh being sawed and drilled. Thankfully for his own sanity, Gibson only felt glimpses of those nightmarish facts and remembrances.
I breathe. My heart beats. My blood flows.
Soon, in a desperate attempt to reach her, Mulder only focused on his beloved partner —bless his ever hopeful soul.
Scully. Help. I'm here. Scully. You're here. Help me. Find me. Scully. Honey, you have to find me.
Mulder's mind wandered erratically,
Scully, it's me. I am waking you up? Scully, let's order pizzas. This really sucks, Scully. Beer time, Scully, beer time.
jumping from memories
I really felt your punch on my cheek, Scully. I can still feel the pain. It's such a good pain. I love you, Scully.
to fantasies,
Come Scully. Come for me. Don't shy away. Take me whole. Cry and shake on me.
wishes,
I'll take us to a sunny beach, Scully. Far from darkness. I promise. We'll be happy.
flashes,
Our first handshake. I've never forgotten. Your first smile and gaze on me.
sensations,
Lightness of your touch. Sweet smell of your warm skin. Your hair, red and fruity. That salty taste on my tongue.
sights,
Curves and mounds. Mole over wide smile. Sparkles in your eyes.
whatever could ease his pain
I'm holding you tight. Dive into your mouth. Touch me. Caress me. Harder.
and keep him alive.
You and me. Scully. Forever. Together. Always.
Gibson wished he could send something back to Mulder, a thought, warmth, hope, anything to feed his primal needs. Unfortunately, the virtual channel worked only one way. So, he was just staying still in the night, a tenuous lifeline for Mulder's sanity until Agent Scully's arrival.
And she was close now. Very close. To him, to Mulder. Gibson could already hear and feel her angst, hitting him like a blast.
"Gibson!"
She'll be there in seconds. And then? What would he do?
"Gibson. What are you doing out here? Why didn't you answer me, huh?"
What could he say to her?
Gibson had witnessed and heard a lot in his life, but he was still an helpless boy, sparing words.
"He's here. I hear him."
