Higher by Tangential Thinker Title: Higher Author: tangential thinker Email: tangential_thinker@yahoo.com Spoilers: S8, especially "Essence" and "Existence." Rating: PG, for one word and it's milder than what you hear on most television shows. Author's comments follow the piece. Summary: Sunday morning and Scully's praying ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 7:50 A.M. Sunday Just before Mass Saint John's Church Alexandria, VA She came here, every Sunday, out of obligation. She came here, every Sunday, out of habit. She came every Sunday without really knowing why. She wasn't sure she believed in her religion anymore, but she went nonetheless. Sitting on the hard, dark wood bothered her back and legs, but was its own form of cleansing discipline. Will's heavy weight on her chest felt good, like the lead blanket a dentist uses during x-rays. Solid. Real. Her mother knelt beside her, praying the rosary, fingers flying over the crystal beads, tiny clicks of crystal on crystal. Sunlight illuminated the heavy silver cross, patterns flashed and danced over the dark gray of Maggie's dress. They would enter St. John's church together for early Sunday mass and pretend for a little while that their lives were normal, the services fulfilling a longing to escape the aggravation of life and draw on their Higher Power. Scully envied her mother's easy prayers, the easy tumble into the meditative prayers of the rosary. Scully's prayers didn't roll so easily off her tongue anymore. Maybe she had run out of prayers. Maybe, just maybe, too many had been fulfilled already. Maybe she'd met her quota. During her cancer, when the darkness came so close to swallowing her, her faith surfaced easily. The prayers provided solace and surety, became hooks to hang her hopes on. Maggie's beads, back then, too, flashing bright hope in Scully's hospital room. Even Bill had softened with the ritual of the prayers, their soothing familiarity smoothing the unknown future white and clean. Rosaries helped fill the empty spot in her soul during that dark time, one she knew she'd allowed to grow through neglect and abandonment of faith. Philosophical talks with Father McCue about her place in the order of the universe helped place a distance between her life and impending death. Her cure answered a lot of prayers. Will sneezed, head bobbing to bump on her shoulder, face screwed up and looking so aggravated, looking so much like Mulder did when she questioned his theories. Scully sighed and rubbed Will's back. You're another answered prayer, Will, she thought. He sneezed in reply and squirmed against her shoulder. Will was an answered prayer, but one revealed to her during a time flooded with such anxiety and fear that praying almost paled in comparison against futility. She'd had no real time to rejoice in the happiness of his being. Prayers had come in the middle of the night when Mulder was gone, uttered rapidly with a shaky voice and rabbit-fast heart, hair damp with cold sweat, smothered on the inside. Eventually those prayers, too, were answered. Someone had told her to be careful what she wished for; she might get it. They had been right. She felt as cold and gray as Mulder looked when Doggett and Skinner found him. Now there was another mystery to solve and more prayers needed, so many questions unasked and unformed she no longer knew where to begin. Mulder was gone again, this time of his own volition. His enemies were all dead and he'd not been alive long enough to create new ones. But he was gone anyway. Gone nearly seven months, to places unknown and for no perceptible reason other than his tendency to hare off. This time she wasn't so sure that she was going to look for him at all. Sometimes, after all was said and done, she sort of wished she hadn't found him the first time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Will stirred and fussed, his voice catching in the back of his throat, gathering his breath to let loose with the ear-piercing cry of a hungry baby. Maggie glanced over her shoulder to Scully, a sympathetic look, a mother-to-mother look of experience. "Want me to take him, Dana?" she whispered. Will's foot waved near her back. She reached backward on cupped it. Scully shook her head and whispered, "No, Mom, stay and..." but before she could finish, Maggie rose smoothly and exited the pew, rosary beads tapping against the wooden seat, one expert hand snagging the baby bag. Maggie reached for Will, and whispered back, "You need some time alone, Dana, to pray. For yourself, for Will, for..." She paused, a sadly gentle smile on her lips. "For whatever burdens you. Take the time, sweetheart." Scully sighed and lifted Will to her mother's waiting hands. Trying to argue with her mother about the need for prayer was like arguing with Chesty Short over his audit results: completely pointless and a waste of time. Maggie left, Will still fussing a little, but quieting under Maggie's grandmotherly ministrations. Scully watched their slow progress as her mother's friends stopped them to admire Will, then look over to Scully and politely nod and smile. Scully smiled thinly, half-heartedly, and sighed again. I do that a lot, lately, Mulder, sigh a lot. All because of you, you know that? And do you even care? Probably not or you'd still be here. Scully closed her eyes, willed herself to pray, but nothing conventional or remotely resembling the prayers of her youth came to mind. She decided instead just to talk with God. Praying doesn't come easily to me anymore, God. Life doesn't come easily anymore. Before Will, I already had moments of wanting out of the X-Files, maybe even out of the FBI. Feeling like my life was on hold or going nowhere. Those times I could lay in bed and sleep and dream of a perfect life. I remember feeling guided in my dreams through another world, a perfect world, full of perfect choices, choices made with clarity, of perfect resolution, of unwavering vision. No doubts, no stir of guilt, no questions. But I would always wake up from those dreams. I would wake up and put on a suit and go through the motions of work, pretend to have a normal job and a normal life. Time and time again, since Will's birth, there have been mornings at sunrise I fight to stay asleep, God. This special place I go in my dreams, it's so...perfect. Almost too perfect. I don't want to wake up some mornings. I don't want to wake up. I don't want to leave the comfort of this place, this place I go in my dreams. There's a hunger in me, God, a longing to escape from the life I live when I'm awake.// Hot tears spilled over her cheeks, scalded her skin. Maggie stepped carefully over her legs, took her place in the pew. The processional hymn began, but Scully felt rooted to the spot, grounded by some magnetic force, immovable. //It's not just Mulder being missing again. What's one more time for him to be gone after all these years? He'll be back. I don't understand why he left us, but he's always come back before. Although I would like our world, Will's and mine, to change, I can't just sit around and wait for it to happen. *I* have to change our world. *I* have to move myself forward. No one else can.// Scully rose slowly, wiped her face, and smiled at Maggie. Maggie smiled back, intuiting a difference in her daughter. Scully stroked Will's face with one finger. Dark lashes fringed his closed eyes. //But, God, my friend, I'd sacrifice all those nights if I could make the Earth and my dreams the same.// The End The words to Higher are posted here: http://www.creednet.com/lyrics/lyricsfrm.htm Higher When dreaming I'm guided through another world Time and time again At sunrise I fight to stay asleep 'Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place 'Cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape From the life I live when I'm awake So let's go there Let's make our escape Come on, let's go there Let's ask can we stay? Can you take me higher? To the place where blind men see Can you take me higher? To the place with golden streets Although I would like our world to change It helps me to appreciate Those nights and those dreams But, my friend, I'd sacrifice all those nights If I could make the Earth and my dreams the same The only difference is To let love replace all our hate So let's go there Let's make our escape Come on, let's go there Let's ask can we stay? Up high I feel like I'm alive for the very first time Up high I'm strong enough to take these dreams And make them mine "Higher" was my first piece written for Pollyanna's Lyrics Wheel challenge. The idea is to use at least one phrase from the song within the body of the story. The characters may not sing the song or hear it on TV or radio. First timer's nerves --- I went overboard and use far more lines from Creed's "Higher" in the story than I would today. I forgot to thank Chriswife for the lyrics! Sorry but I couldn't seem to wed The Beach Boys' "Wouldn't It Be nice" with The X-Files. Also, guess what? Here's a disclaimer: I don't own the characters in my little piece. If I did, I wouldn't be sweating out the car payment, the student loan payment, the house payment...