From: sugarellie2000@yahoo.com   
      
   Chapter 11   
      
      
   I wake up, but I don't know why. I'm so tired. My eyes   
   feel like they've done a couple of marathons. What has   
   happened? I don't remember, but strangely the feeling   
   of not remembering does sound familiar.   
   	Mulder?   
   	My eyes flutter open but shut again when they're   
   assaulted by sharp light. Where is he? Someone   
   squeezes my hand. I've got to reach out to him, I've   
   got to talk to him.   
   	“Mulder?”   
   	“Hey Dana honey.”   
   	Mom. A feeling of disappointment flushes over me,   
   even though my mother's presence is comforting. Why is   
   he not here?   
   	“Hi Mom.” I try to smile, but it comes out very   
   forced. “Where's Mulder?”   
   	I now look at her intensely, trying to will her to   
   answer, but I'm so tired.   
   	“It's okay Dana.” And she smiles.   
   	“Okay...” I sigh and I drift off again.   
   	When I wake up again I'm less tired and I can keep my   
   eyes over the first time I try. Mom is still sitting   
   there but I still don't see Mulder. Worry grabs me   
   again. Why wouldn't he be here? This time I look   
   around, trying to figure out where I am. The sharp   
   light harassing my eyes is coming from TL-lamps and   
   I'm wearing a blue gown. I'm in the hospital.   
   	“Mom, where's Mulder? How did I get here?”   
   	She chooses to answer neither one.   
   	“You're in the hospital honey.”   
   	I nod.   
   	“But how did I get here? Where's Mulder?”   
   	I look at her impatiently, but she seems determined   
   not to rush her statement of the situation.   
   	“You remember the case you were working on?”   
   	Again I nod my affirmation.   
   	“You remember being taken by that guy?”   
   	Some vague visions come to my mind. Fitzgerald's   
   death. Our subsequent race against the clock. Then,   
   waking up in that dark room. I nod again, but with   
   more hesitation this time.   
   	“Well honey, Fox came after you and he...uhm...”   
   	She stuttered and her voice fills with regret and   
   concern. Oh my God. The only time I hear my mother   
   stutter is when things are really bad. The last time   
   was when she told me Ahab had died. Nonetheless I urge   
   her to continue. I need to know. The uncertainty is   
   unbearable.   
   	“Mom? What is it?”   
   	“I'm sorry,” I see her eyes getting moist and I feel   
   the tears stinging behind my own eyes too. “They came   
   too late. The man who took you had shot him.”   
   	“Mom?” my voice is cracking up while I try to fight   
   my tears, “Mom, what are you saying?”   
   	“Oh honey...” She starts to cry and begins to rock me   
   like I am still a little girl.   
   	“No,” I say, tears now actually rolling down my   
   cheeks. “No, it's not true. Mom it's not true. They're   
   lying.”   
   	I can't breath anymore as my sobs get louder. Mulder   
   is dead? That can't be. He's all I have. Oh my God. I   
   can't live without him. Mulder. He's everything, he   
   has always been everything. We were just beginning our   
   lives together. I still wanted to do so many things   
   with him. I wanted to make love to him, wake up in the   
   morning to take showers together, spend lazy Sundays   
   in bed reading each other the newspaper, go on wild   
   goose chases because of some ridiculous theory of him   
   which would probably end up to be true.... The   
   vastness of it is dawning on me. God, it's all been   
   taking away. Never, never again. Never see his   
   gorgeous face smiling at me again. Never discuss cases   
   again. Never feel his hand on my back, guiding me   
   through everything with amazing respect. Never again.   
   I can't take it, I scream inside.   
   	Noooooooooooooooooooooo.   
   	I start lashing out trying to hit whatever I can to   
   get out this anger, this pain, this irrevocable   
   feeling of being all alone in the world, of having   
   lost the one person I can't stand losing.   
   	Noooooooooooooooooooooo.   
   	I vaguely feel someone restricting me, pulling me   
   down on the bed again, while something stings my arm.   
   And all I can think about when I drift off is how I   
   hope I'll never wake up again.   
      
   ~   
      
   	But I do. I feel awake, but my head is still heavy   
   and I can't muster the energy to look at mom who's   
   holding my hand. And then I realize it can't be my mom   
   because she is sitting on the other side of the room   
   talking to some doctor. Mulder. Now I turn my head and   
   I look into the most gorgeous face I've ever seen. It   
   was all a dream. He looks at me with a strange stare   
   in his eyes. I give him a smile that shows him how   
   glad I am to see him. How amazing he is, and how   
   relieved I am to still have him, but he just stares. I   
   blink and call for him.   
   	“Mulder.” It comes out as a groan. My voice is still   
   not trustworthy, it breaks when I try to form words.   
   	When the word is out of my mouth I blink again.   
   That's not Mulder there. It's my father.   
   	“Ahab?” I ask, now with a little more steady voice.   
   He nods, but then his face disappears too, for   
   Melissa's to appear.   
   	“Let go,” she says and then the entire body is gone,   
   not just the face, leaving me alone and puzzled. It   
   isn't like Melissa to let go, or give up. I'm afraid,   
   confused.   
   	“Mom? Mom, I need you.”   
   	She is at my bedside right away, but vanishes too   
   when she reaches out to touch me and with her the   
   whole room fades, leaving only darkness. I am   
   abandoned. And I scream.   
   	   
   ~   
      
   I wake up and I want to open my eyes, but then I   
   remember. What if I open them, and I'm still in the   
   hospital, and Mulder, Mulder is still...dead. I can't   
   face that, I can't, so I just keep them closed. If I   
   open them, then I can't avoid what's there, if I keep   
   them closed... Every reality that I want to be true   
   can be true, if I keep them closed.   
   	I lie there, eyes closed, for what feels like hours.   
   I have heard my mum enter, quite a while ago, but   
   she's just in my dream, I'm dreaming now, because this   
   can't be real, Mulder can't be gone. She touched me,   
   and I know I flinched. Can you feel in dreams? But I   
   just reckon that I'm sleeping and someone else, in the   
   waking world touched me. Mulder maybe. I translated   
   that into my mother touching me, but it isn't real, it   
   can't be. Now, she's just sitting there, though I'm   
   dreaming that, waiting for me to wake up. But I am   
   awake, already, even though I'm not, even though   
   everything now is a dream, because Mulder isn't gone.   
   It can't be.   
   	I hear someone else enter, and it startles me. I   
   suppose I must have drifted off, if that's possible   
   when you're already asleep. He, it's a man, starts   
   whispering with my mother, but I can hear them, still.   
   He is explaining something to my mother, but I don't   
   want to hear. He sounds too real, to real to be made   
   up, to be a dream. So I squint my eyes shut and try   
   not to listen, try to think about other things.   
   	“...the shock of hearing it, might have...”   
   	Don't want to hear it, don't want to hear it.   
   	“...think she is actually awake...”   
   	Don't want to hear it, don't want to hear it. Just   
   keep repeating it, and I might not hear it.   
   	“...she's fine, we're worried about her emotional...”   
   	Stop talking, stop talking.   
   	“...invited Dr Howe, to see if she can...”   
   	I said, stop talking, don't talk, don't talk...   
   	“...be here in about an hour, to...”   
   	I said, “DON”T TALK”   
   	Immediately I'm aware of the doctor and my mother   
   turning towards me, rushing to my bedside.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)