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Title: A Comforting Hand Summary: Mulder and Scully are investigating the mysterious death of a little girl when Scully begins having disturbing nightmares involving Emily. Author's note: This is just a scene taken out of a possible longer story where I'll fully explain the case of the little girl and the emotional repercussions on Scully. Dedication: To Liesbeth on her 19th birthday! Thursday, 1:50am "Mommy," Emily cried into the eternal darkness that surrounded her. "Mommy, I can't find you. Why have you left me?" Scully tried to focus her light blue eyes in the shadows; tried in vain to locate her daughter amongst the shadows that enveloped her. "Emily, where are you?" she called. A thick, white mist began to churn and suddenly a bright light punctured the darkness. Scully averted her eyes, holding a hand up to block its harshness. When she risked a look, she could see Emily standing tall and expressionless, floating in the abyss. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Mommy's here now," Scully soothed, venturing closer to the little girl. Emily wore a white nightgown that danced around her ankles in an imaginary breeze. Her eyes were harsh and accusing. "Someone help us understand who ordered this disgusting arrangement with time and the end," Emily mouthed as if possessed. The increasing fog that seeped around them distorted her form, stretching it in every direction of space and time. "Why did you kill me, mommy?" her voice echoed faintly as she finally disappeared into the void. "Emily wait!" Scully called, unable to hold back her tears any longer. She tried to run after the fading image, but was unable to move through the conforming mist. "I didn't mean to harm you!" she cried in desperation. With a jolt of fear, Scully sat up in bed, the bright street lamp outside of her motel window casting strange shadows along the wall, playing tricks with her mind. "Emily..." she whispered sadly. Suddenly, she realized that there were voices in her room. As her protective instinct went into overdrive and she reached for her gun that rested on the night table, she realized that it was only her radio alarm clock, playing the last few verses of a light rock song. "Oh God," she sighed, embarrassed with herself. She sat up and covered her face with her hands, massaging her temples lightly. These nightmares were becoming more and more vivid as the nights went on and she was getting less and less sleep because of them. With a shaking hand, she slapped the snooze button and stopped the music, unconcerned with why the alarm had gone off so early in the morning. Once she had taken a few calming breaths, she lay back down on her back and closed her eyes, pulling the covers up around her chin. However, accusing visions of Emily danced across her eyelids in silent torment. With a sigh of frustration, she yanked the covers from the bed and stood up. She would be getting no more sleep tonight. 2:03am Mulder awoke to a knocking. Glancing at the clock and noticing the time, he casually grabbed his gun and walked to the door, stopping to look out the peephole. It was Scully. lacing the gun in the rim of his sweatpants, he unlocked the door and ushered his robe-clad partner inside. "Scully, is everything okay?" he asked in concern. She began to nod her head, but stopped herself. "I've been having nightmares, Mulder," she admitted, though it seemed hard for her to do. He placed a reassuring hand at the small of her back and escorted her to his bed where he let her sit. He pulled up one of the stiff motel chairs and sat in front of her after switching on one of the lamps. It offered just enough light to illuminate each other. "What kind of nightmares?" he finally asked, disturbing the silence between them. She examined her nails in the dim light, debating whether or not to tell him; whether or not she should acknowledge her fears. Finally, her vulnerable side took over. "It's Emily, Mulder," she sighed. "She's been coming to me in my dreams and accusing me of killing her." Mulder was quiet. He knew that even two years after her daughter's death, Scully still hadn't healed completely and probably still wrestled with the fact that there was nothing she could have morally done to save her. "And these dreams started when?" he asked. "Tuesday night," she replied, staring at the worn out carpet. Mulder knew exactly what had triggered the dreams. "It's the case, Scully. You're relating to what happened to the Fortier's daughter." Scully finally looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with black circles from lack of sleep. "I know, Mulder. And I also know that the circumstances surrounding Isabelle's death are completely different from Emily's, but I guess I can still relate to the loss of an only child," Scully rationalized. Mulder placed a reassuring hand on her knee. "Maybe you should step away from this case," he suggested. He held up his hand when he saw her about to protest. "You've already finished the autopsy of the little girl and we've questioned the possible suspects. Since you've ruled out any kind of paranormal activity concerning her death, I can finish up the paper work before I hand over the case to the local sheriff's office." "Mulder, you never give up a case that easily," she pointed out, a hint of amusement in her voice. Mulder grinned. "Okay, you got me there. But I won't mind if you step away. Obviously you're having a hard time dealing with Emily's death, even a couple of years after the fact. This case is dredging up painful memories that you're not ready to confront yet." "Mulder, you sound like my shrink," Scully laughed and Mulder smiled inwardly at his accomplishment. "You have a shrink, Scully?" he joked. They sat there, smiling at each other for a few fleeting moments until Mulder regained his seriousness. "Maybe you should talk to someone," he suggested. Scully shook her head. "I'll be fine, Mulder." When she noticed the unconvinced look he gave her, she continued, as if to assure him. "I'm not going to leave you alone with this case. You can't get rid of me that easily." Mulder nodded, absentmindedly grabbing a handful of sunflower seeds that rested on the small laminate table beside him. "Well, if you won't talk to a professional about this, you're going to have to talk to me, Scully." Scully got up from her spot on the bed. "I'm fine, Mulder. I should really get back to sleep. We have an early start tomorrow morning." Mulder blocked her path to the door. "Oh no. You're sitting here until you tell me why you're having these nightmares, Scully." He popped some seeds into his mouth, savoring their salty taste as he watched her reaction. Scully continued to challenge him, standing tall and refusing to move until she realized there was no escaping the inevitable. If she didn't talk about this now, it would only cause her even more stress. And God knows she had enough of that with her job. She quietly turned around and sat down on the bed once again. "Where do I start?" she asked incredulously. "How about you explain your most recent dream to me?" Mulder suggested. Scully began to describe in detail everything that had happened and how it had made her feel during the dream. "And the strangest part," she continued, "was when Emily started talking in a deep voice." "What did she say?" Mulder prodded. Scully pondered for a moment, recalling the haunting images. "It was something like 'Help us understand who ordered time and the end...' I can't remember the exact words though." Mulder thought about that a moment. "You know, that sounds like the lyrics to a song I once heard," he ventured. "You say your radio was on?" "Yes," she answered. "The alarm was playing music. I didn't hear it at first." "Do you remember what song it was?" he asked. "No. I've heard it before but I can't remember who the band was. I don't listen to a lot of music," she admitted. Mulder nodded. "Well, it was probably a verse of the song that was integrated into your dream." Scully stifled a snort. "Are you suggesting that the song was trying to tell me something?" "Maybe it meant nothing," he explained. "It's been known to happen, where sounds from the outside world are integrated into our dreams with no apparent reason." He paused and caught her eye, gently taping her knee with his index. "What I do know is that you're blaming yourself for Emily's death." Scully started. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I know I made the right decision when I stopped the injections. I didn't want her to live her life as a lab rat." Mulder moved from his chair and took up a spot beside Scully on the bed. "I know that, but your subconscious is obviously questioning that decision with these nightmares." "I didn't want her to die, Mulder. I just wanted her to be a normal little girl," she admitted, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. "Maybe I do blame myself sometimes, but deep down, I know I made the right choice." Mulder placed his arm around Scully's shoulders, hugging her close. "I agree." They sat in companionable silence until the sound of Mulder's voice startled Scully from her thoughts. "Someone help us understand who ordered this disgusting arrangement with time and the end." Scully looked up at him, recognition adorning her narrow face. "That's it, Mulder. That's what Emily said to me." He grinned down at her. "I remember the song. It's 'Thief' by Our Lady Peace," he explained. Scully was intrigued. "Do you remember the lyrics?" He nodded and then began to quietly sing. "I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head. But I can be some courage at the side of your bed." Scully's eyes focused onto nothing as she thought about the song. "Yes, that was the song that was on the radio when I woke up." She frowned. "I guess it didn't mean anything then." Mulder smoothed Scully's wayward hair with his free hand. "Of course it did, Scully. You found Emily in her time of need. You were her courage, her friend, her mother, and you helped her leave this world in dignity. That's all we can ever hope for, isn't it?" He looked down at Scully when she didn't answer. She was fast asleep in his arms, her face pressed against his chest and a smile on her tired face. ** End ** More author's notes: I'd like to thank Lizzie for her beta reading and for offering suggestions, even when she had finals to study for! And Liesbeth, for her enthusiastic reading and her unconditional support! I'd also like to thank my good friend Eric who convinced me that I was capable of writing an X-Files fanfic!
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