Message-ID: <358D30DA.7F8E@wmcstations.com> Date: Sun, 21 Jun 1998 16:12:34 +0000 From: Lyle Bontrager Reply-To: lbontger@wmcstations.com X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.01Gold (Macintosh; I; PPC) MIME-Version: 1.0 To: lbontger@wmcstations.com Subject: The Way VIII: Friday References: <358D226B.2F54@wmcstations.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Title: The Way VIII: Friday Author: RocketMan >lbontger@wmcstations.com< see part one for other::::::this has nothing to do with the movie ===== "I have faith, and it all doesn't hurt so much." --"Certain Women" Madeleine L'Engle "And now I will show you the most excellent way." --1 Corinthians 12:31 ===== It was very dark. Gloomy or maybe damp and moldy, with the rain leaking in at the edges of his room. Rain. Why rain? It was warm rain and soft, like it wasn't coming down very hard at all. It was tickling his nose too. He opened his eyes. This was not his room. Blood was not rain. He shivered and rolled over. Rolled onto Scully and heard a faint moan, pulled away. "Scully?" Nothing but breathing. That was a good thing. Breathing. He glanced up. Trees. Dripping with rain? No. Not trees. Not rain. A cell with steel supports and blood thickly pooling around his head. He pushed himself up and glanced around. "Scully?" Breathing again. He stood and walked to the door. Locked. Of course. Locked. Simple. He looked to her, crawled up next to her, touched the blood soaked ground with a finger. It was cold concrete and making him shiver. The light was nonexistent and he peered in close to see what her injuries were. No bullet wound. He began to breathe. Nasty cut over her eye, swelling too. Bloody. He winced and touched his own head. One huge, hard lump. A shot of pain and he was on his knees again, begging to someone for relief. Then lucidity again. He cradled Scully's limpness in his arms, wrapped his hands around her upper arms and dragged her back to the small bed in the corner. Placing her on it took strength and he didn't have any to speak of, but somehow, he managed to get her there. She moaned and her eyes fluttered, her body twisted. He let his head fall beside hers, ready to sleep again. ~~~~~ "Mulder?" "Mulder?" His eyes shot open. Silence. Breathing. He waited. No words this time. Must have been a dream. He glanced to Scully. Her eyes were open, staring at him. "What happened to the boy?" she said. He frowned. "What?" "The boy. They didn't get him. You hid him." "Oh. In a large crate. He was poking around in it when you shut up the girl, and I let him kind of fall in when I saw the man come up with the gun." "Oh. Maybe they didn't find him?" "Ah. . . they'll know they're missing one." "Maybe they won't find him." "Sure. Maybe." He didn't argue with her. If that's what she needed to hang on, then he would not pry it away from her. Not yet. "We need to get out of here." "How?" He didn't know and shook his head. "We're stuck. It's locked. No one's here." She shivered. "It's cold." He grunted. She touched her eye carefully, running her fingertips along the swelling knot on her forehead. "Mulder?" "What, Scully?" He sounded exasperated. "Oh. Never mind." He glared at her. It was the same glare the little boy had given him when Mulder had clamped his hand over the boy's mouth. She wilted. He noticed. "Scully, look-" "No Mulder. No." "You don't even know what I'm going to say." "That's my answer. Whatever it is." "So if I had asked if you ever thought we were getting out of here, that would be your answer?" She glared. "Yes." So maybe the kid's glare had been a combination of theirs. "So what do we do?" "Wait." He tried to lighten the mood. "I can't wait. I don't have any sunflower seeds." "You don't need them. It's time to kick the habit, Mulder." "Don't you have something else for my mouth to do?" She wondered what he'd do if she said yes and went for their previously implied action. She shook her head instead. His sigh almost sounded disappointed. ~~~~~ "Oh, this is so boring." She tried to move her head to see him, but it pounded with pain. He glanced over to her and saw her wince, feeling stupid himself for not noticing how huge her forehead had swollen. "Scully, you should tell me when it's getting bad." "What can you do about it, Mulder?" she whispered through her clenched teeth. Her whole head throbbed. "Actually I think I have an idea." He scooped her in his arms and was surprised when she made no protests, evidently too much in pain to question him. He laid her on the floor on her stomach, then gently guided her head to the ground. She sighed as the cold concrete met her fevery skin. "It may not reduce the swelling, but it will keep it from hurting so much." She closed her eyes and took his hand. "Thanks," she whispered. He nodded and soothed her with rhythmic circles of his hand across her back. ~~~~~ A clink brought him focused again on where they were and less on what he wished he could do with her, right on the cold floor. He glanced around and quickly dragged the bed in front of her, blocking her body from sight of the door, hoping that no one would be coming in with a gun. Just in case, he tipped the bed and it crashed to the floor, effectively blocking them. He peered through the rusty slats at the door. It creaked open. There was nothing for a long moment. Brown hair popped through the door and then brown eyes followed. The little boy. He felt his throat constrict. The boy's pupils dilated wide for the dark and he slipped inside. Mulder moved slowly from behind the bed and into the boy's line on sight. The boy was startled and drew back, eyes wild. Then he glared. Mulder glared back. "Where's. . . " The boy seemed to want to speak, but couldn't. Mulder knew though and pushed the bed aside, trying not to make too much noise and startle the kid. Scully was lying facedown on the floor, her body curled up tightly to ward off the chill in her limbs. The boy went to her and touched her face, then made noises. Mulder picked her up and the boy backed away, edging toward the door. "We'll follow you," Mulder said. The kid was gone in a flash. ~~~~~ Scully was beside him now, one arm protectively around the boy's shoulders, the other linked through Mulder's. She waited silently in the dark hall until the soldiers passed by on the other side, barely daring to breathe. When the boy relaxed, she did too. He didn't even have a name. They made it to the doors leading back to the bubbles; it was the only way to get back out to the day care and then to their car and freedom. The door was eased open, Mulder keeping an eye out for soldiers and the boy ducking his head inside to make sure the coast was clear. And then they were back were they started, in an eerily silent, eerily large cavern with glowing bubbles. The girls they had liberated were back in their coffins, hunkered down on the floor and sobbing. They did not look up; Scully felt sick. The boy got them oriented and showed them the door they had come in; they were a long way off. Mulder would not lift his head as he walked by; he would not look at all the children they had to pass. He wished it was merciful to kill them. But he didn't even really know how he could do that. Scully looked at every child as they passed, etching their faetures into her memory as best she could. She glanced at the plaques too, looking for more of hers. She couldn't help it. She had to know. After a few short seconds of walking, the door was before them. Home. She could feel it there, urging her forward, drawing her into something new yet familiar. She jerked open the door before Mulder could check things out and they all walked through. And came under attack. ~~~~~ Trees. For real this time. Trees above dripping rain onto him. Burning, stinging rain that dissolved on his clothes and in the air. He grunted and felt the pain again as the rain fell. Red rain. Black rain. Grey rain. It wasn't rain. Fire. "Scully!" He jerked up, found her jerking beside him, frightened. "Fire." She glanced around her wildly, at the burning woods all around them, at the stench of smoke and things becoming dead. She threw up in the grass and he grabbed her shoulders as she attempted to spit up emptiness as well. "Scully. Let's go." He dragged her forcefully to her feet, his panic outweighing his usual delicate handling of her. They stumbled away and Scully wrenched back, as if she had forgotten something. "The boy!" He shook his head and pulled her along further. "What about-" "He's not here, Scully." She twisted in his arms, buried her face into her sleeve and pretended to breathe through the cloth, away from the smoke. He could see she was crying, and it was not just ash and soot in her eyes. ~~~~~ end friday In Him RM