Just a Dream? by Leigh Alexander leigh_xf@geocities.com First posted: January 29th, 1997 RATING: PG CATEGORY: SA SPOILERS: Third season KEYWORDS: None SUMMARY: Scully finds herself being persuaded to examine her life. DISCLAIMERS: 1) Dana and Fox belong to Chris and Ten Thirteen Productions and the other Fox. Absolutely *no* copyright infringement is intended - I'm not doing this for money, I'm doing it for love. I *love* these characters, I wouldn't want to hurt them! :) 2) OK to archive, but if it's going anywhere other than Gossamer, please drop me a line just so I can keep track. 3) Feel free to distribute and discuss this, as long as my name and addy remain attached. INTRO: This story was originally inspired by the recent discussions on this newsgroup about Scully's sexuality. However, in the end, I only brushed upon this theme. It also reflects my concern that not enough has been said about Melissa's death, and its effect on Scully. At this point, I've only seen up to "El Mundo Gira" and I have a nasty suspicion that some of the themes I've raised in this story have now been dealt with in the most recently screened ep. It certainly wasn't my intention to do that. Please don't write to me with details of "Leonard Betts" and how my story differs or is similar to that episode, b/c I really don't like getting spoilers. Thanks to my three editors: Melissa, Sarah and Lorrie who all pulled through even though they had a million and one other things occupying them. :) ------------------------------------------------------------- Just a Dream? ------------------------------------------------------------- Dana? Hmmm...? Dana, wake up. Wha....? Dana, we need to talk. Idon'needt'talk... You do. I can sense it. You can "sense" it? Are you awake now? Yeah. You're tired, aren't you? Considering you just woke me up at three in the morning I'd have to agree with you, Melissa. Not that sort of tired. What other sort is there? Weariness. Exhaustion. Fatigue. The constant stripping of energy that happens every day of your life. I'm fine, Melissa. There's nothing for you to worry about. But I *do* worry, Dana. I watch you and I see what's happening to you. I see your life slowly draining away. Your vitality, your warmth, your love... It's all gradually dying. Dying? Dying. Am I dying, Melissa? I just told you-- No, I mean, *really* dying. Of cancer. Hidden tumours that won't be found until they're too late. Sometimes I imagine I can feel them, festering, just below the skin. Dana... I - I don't know. No one gives me the answers I want . . . . . Why are you here Missy? You wanted me here. You have no one else to turn to, do you? There's Mulder... But he can't help you. You can't talk to him about your deepest fears, can you? You can't show that part of you to him. It's too close to who you really are. I don't know... I have tried to talk to him, but he doesn't hear me. Sometimes I just need someone to talk to. Well I'm here. But not for long. Long enough. I miss you so much, Missy. It hurts. All the time, it hurts. I'm here, Dana. I'm here. I'm so sorry. Sorry? You were killed in my place. I never got the chance to say I'm sorry. It's OK. I know. It wasn't your fault Dana. You can't blame yourself. But I do. Every single day. I have so many regrets. What regrets? I regret our last meeting. When I wouldn't listen to you. When I refused to hear you. When we argued. It was our last conversation, and we argued. We didn't know. In any case, it wasn't exactly something new. I regret that also. What? Our fights. Our disagreements. Our differences. Why didn't we ever make more of an effort to get along? Dana, you're asking impossible questions. Stop punishing yourself. And stop avoiding the topic. What topic was that? You. Me? Why am I suddenly so interesting? Precisely because you never think about *you*. You push yourself aside. You disregard your feelings. You ignore what your body and your mind are telling you. Melissa, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to fight with you again. Then don't. Don't what? Don't fight it. Surrender to it. Close your eyes and listen to yourself. 'Listen to myself'? What does that mean? It means instead of constantly burying everything so deep that it can't hurt you, you should face it all. Are you dying? How did you get to this point in your life? Are you happy-- Melissa, stop it! It's supposed to be painful, Dana. That's how you know that you're still alive. Why are you doing this to me? Because I love you. And I can't stand by and watch you lose yourself in your work in an attempt to block out your feelings. When was the last time you had a date, Dana? That's none of your business. You don't need those defences with me. Even Mulder can see through those, so don't think that I can't read you like a book. So, when was it? A year? Two years? Three? I don't need a man in my life to be happy. And you're happy now? I'm not saying that you need a man for personal fulfilment, but wouldn't it be nice to have something other than work to think about? I'm too busy. I'd have no time to devote to a relationship. I'm not talking about relationships Dana, I'm talking about a date. Mulder managed to find some time to squeeze a few women into his life. Why should you be any different? I'd like to think that I'm not ruled by my hormones like Mulder. We're all ruled by our hormones, only some of us can hold the reins for a little longer than others. Melissa, look, I don't *need* anyone else in my life right now. I don't have time and the paltry amount of spare time that I do have I'd rather be relaxing at home than wasting it with some jerk that you - or someone - had set me up with! Cleaning your gun and reading "Breakfast at Tiffany's", right? Since when did I have to start defending myself to you? You're right. I'm sorry. No... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I don't want to argue with you, Missy. We always argue. But not this time, OK? OK. Do you remember when we were kids? I used to idolise you. You were my hero. You and the boys... I wanted to be beautiful like you, but I also wanted to be tough like Billy and Charlie. Well you got your wish, didn't you? Did I? Dana, look at you. Now it's my turn to look up to you. You've achieved so much in your life. I'm so proud of you. And envious. Why envious? The last thing you would have wanted to be was what I am. But you attained your goals. You set out to accomplish all those things, and you succeeded, without a hitch. Even when Daddy was so against you, you persevered. And I know how much his opinion meant to you. But you wouldn't let him, or anyone else, dissuade you from your path. Not ever. You have a strength of character that I can only admire, Dana. And it's constantly put to the test by Mulder. But despite his most outlandish theories, his most convincing story-telling, his most believable hypotheses, you stick to your ground. You are never swayed by him. I envy you that. But I can't help worrying for you also. I worry that you're closing yourself off. Sometimes I fear that you refuse to accept his ideas purely through your own stubbornness rather than for any logical - or scientific - reasons. Are you saying that I don't admit when I'm wrong? Maybe. I'm just saying that you should open yourself up more. To 'extreme possibilities'? They're there, Dana. You just have to accept them. And that's exactly what I can't do - just 'accept them'. I need proof, Melissa. I'm not like you, and I'm not like Mulder - I can't go out on a limb just because something 'feels' right. Listen to yourself! You're practically admitting that these things exist, Dana... that these 'feelings' are tangible, knowable. How can you reconcile those two ideas? How can you continue to deny the existence of extreme possibilities when you know that you yourself have borne witness to such things? Well maybe it's just too painful... What do you mean? No, forget it. I don't know what I meant. Dana, tell me. It doesn't make you a weaker person if you confide in someone, you know. You said yourself that you needed to talk to someone. Who better to talk to than me? I'm not exactly going to be spreading it around, am I? What happened that was so painful? It was a long time ago Melissa. It doesn't matter. It can't be that long ago if you still remember, can it? It was... when Dad died. When Dad died? I... I found myself willing to believe certain things that I wouldn't normally. I'm listening. I saw him, Melissa. I never told you that, but it happened just after he died. He was in my living room, facing me... talking. But no words were coming out. And then Mom phoned and he'd died. He was dead, but I saw him. A vision? I don't know what it was. But it happened again. There was a case that Mulder and I were working on - a man was due to be executed - I saw Dad again, and I felt things I'd never felt. I was filled with hope, Missy. I thought I'd get the chance to speak to him. To ask him if he was proud of me-- --Of course he was proud of you. You must have known that! Was he? I didn't know. I don't know... But so much happened during that time. I thought I saw things, and I thought I experienced things, but Mulder didn't believe me. I doubted what I had believed to be truths and the pain was even more powerful than before - because the hope was gone. So was it the truth? Did you see him? I don't know! I still don't know. Visionary encounters with recently deceased loved ones are common. I was feeling vulnerable, open to manipulation... But did it *feel* like the truth? ... Boggs could have found out everything about me... Dana. Did you see Dad? I don't know . . . . . Maybe. Maybe. Well, it's better than no. So it's because of that one experience that you can't ever consider other possibilities outside of your precious world of logic and scientific rationalisation? Now who's turn is it to indulge in contradictions? You of all people should realise that science is the very basis of who I am, Melissa. You tell me to 'listen to myself', to follow my instincts - well that's exactly what I'm doing when I'm using logic and 'scientific rationalisation'. That's my backbone, my guide. I can't *not* look at life through the eye of a scientist because that's who I am. So no matter how much you or Mulder push me to 'believe', it's not going to happen until I have solid proof. So how much proof do you need? I can't define a measurement, or give you some sort of quantitative amount - proof isn't something that appears in a nicely wrapped package on your doorstep. Well what about this, then? 'This'? What are you talking about? *This*. This conversation... How do you explain it? This is a dream. A fairly detailed dream wouldn't you say? Psychologists have spent decades analysing the significance of dreams, Melissa - where they come from, what they mean, how often they occur... Dreams can be complicated or simple. This is just a dream. Right. You needed someone to talk to, so you called up the dream image of your sister. Your own subconscious provided her - that is, *my* - side of the argument. I suppose that means that all I really am is the embodiment of your own inner turmoil. All those questions I asked, all the prodding I did - all of that was just your subconscious posing the questions that plague you throughout the day but are usually pushed aside, right? Or this is an assembly of all the conversations we've had over the years. I know what you think about my views, Melissa. I know the words you use to try and change my mind. Oh Dana... This tug-of-war is never going to end, is it? No, it isn't. The day it does will be the saddest day of my life. ~ THE END ~ ----------------------------------------------------------- I'm very open to constructive criticism. I want to portray these characters as close to their TV counterpoints as possible and your feedback will help me do that. leigh_xf@geocities.com