***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter, and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it. ARCHIVING: Link only, please! ========== Writings: I Dream in Color by shannono shannono@iname.com Vignette, Angst, Scully journal entry, Mulder/Scully UST Rated PG Spoilers through "The Red and the Black" Summary: Scully tries to work out the meaning of a dream by writing in her journal. ========== Writings: I Dream in Color by shannono 11 April 1998 I dream in color. This might come as a surprise to some people, since full- color dreams are supposed to be a sign of a vivid imagination and great creativity. Neither is a trait often ascribed to me. Yet still, I dream in color. Bright, vivid hues, clearer than reality in most cases. True colors, bigger and better than life. My dreams are standard for the most part, I suppose. I dream of people from my past and present, and probably some from my future, if I believed that sort of thing. Yes, I dream of Mulder, even occasionally in settings that could be interpreted as erotic. That shouldn't surprise anyone, even him, considering the many hours we spend together, and our lack of any real social attachments. I'm sure he dreams of me, too. But we're professionals, and friends, so we choose to ignore what we see in those dreams. Lately, though, I've been having one particular dream quite regularly. It started a couple of years ago, although I can't quite figure out what set it off. I had it every few months at first, but it's started coming closer and closer together. The dream is very much the same each time. I am driving a familiar car down a familiar road, though both change from one time to the next and neither is fully recognizable. I am not alone in the car, and while some part of my mind is aware of who the passenger is, this knowledge never quite reaches the surface. I suppose Mulder would be the most logical choice, but I'm never quite sure in the dream. Anyway, as the dream begins, I have been driving for some time, and I can see storm clouds starting to gather in the distance. I drive on, a bit uneasy at the changing weather but unwilling to stop quite yet. Soon, I am driving through a rainstorm, with wind and hail buffeting the car. I slow slightly in deference to the wet pavement, but I drive on. Through all this, my companion is silent, willing to let me choose our course. Then I hear a telltale roar, and I see the spinning cloud approaching from the side, on track to intersect my path. I am faced with a choice. I can stop where I am and let the storm pass us by, or I can plow straight ahead and let the storm strike us or not, as it will. At this point, I either awaken or "switch channels" to another dream. If I awaken, I am not afraid; rather, I am curious as to what decision I should make. Rationally, I know what need to be done. Dreams are our minds' way of helping us work out problems our conscious minds struggle with. Any psychologist would say that when I work out the "real-life" conflict behind the dream, it will fade away. All well and good. The only problem is, I don't know what conflict I'm supposed to be working out. I've thought about it quite a bit, especially in recent months, because the dream has begun popping up even more often, to the point that I'm having it at least once a week. But I still can't figure out a trigger. I've been checking into "tornado dream" interpretations, out of curiosity, of course, and most of them say a tornado represents a fear of losing control. Well, I guess that fits me pretty well. But the question remains, what am I afraid I'll lose control *of*? Okay, I'm going to go through this logically, starting with some basic assumptions. I'm going to assume that my passenger in the dream is Mulder, because he is the one person I have been closest to since the dream began. I am driving in the dream, which I don't do all that often when we're on a case. This makes me think it is not entirely a professional problem I'm dealing with. In the dream, I am in control. I am driving the car; I am choosing our route; and I am left with the choice of what to do when the tornado appears. My companion -- Mulder -- offers me no assistance. Why is this? Normally, he's offering more help than I want or need, like he did while I was in Maine. What is holding him back? All right. What does he *not* talk to me about? Well, that would be mostly personal things. Unless something happens that involves both of us, or our work -- like Emily -- we don't talk about our personal lives very often. But then, we don't talk about our personal beliefs much, either, and I know his are changing, or at least on shaky ground. He did tell me that much. So, I guess those are my choices. The storm represents a loss of control, which I have in this case. The car represents me and Mulder, our relationship as partners and friends; the road, the path we follow together. Now, am I dealing with our professional path, or our personal path? Okay, I'll go with professional first. I know Mulder has lost some of his passionate belief in the existence of extraterrestrials, as a result of the things he has seen during the past year or so. I, on the other hand, have against all logic found myself wondering if there might be EBEs after all, as a result of the things *I've* seen. At first glance, this sounds like progress in our partnership. We are starting to move toward the middle, each of us loosening our grip on our staunch beliefs and opening our minds to other interpretations. Only problem is, we don't know how to deal with it. Our partnership is built on the delicate balance between my hard science and Mulder's extreme possibilities. That balance is shifting, and if we're not careful, the whole thing will come tumbling down around us, leaving us lying broken in the ruins. That scenario is plausible, but it doesn't quite fit the dream. I simply don't have that much control over our partnership. And if it was professional, I feel sure Mulder would have *something* to say about our course. He's not afraid to contradict me on the job. That's one of the main reasons our partnership has worked so well. We thrust and parry, point and counterpoint, until we've hashed out nearly every option from nearly every angle and arrived on some sort of consensus, no matter how tenuous. So I don't think it's our partnership. That just leaves our personal relationship, and here's where things get sticky. We aren't supposed to *have* a personal relationship. Not beyond friendship, anyway, and even then only because we don't have time -- or trust -- to spare for friends other than each other. Problem is, we *do* have a personal relationship beyond friendship. Or, at least, we *would*, if it wasn't so dangerous, both literally and figuratively. We are well matched, despite outward appearances, and we know and understand each other better than anyone else would ever be able to. With everything we've been through, we're meshed so tightly together that neither of us could break free without destroying us both. So let's assume that the car is our relationship, and the storm the uncertain outcome of any romantic involvement between us. That would make sense. But I still don't know why I'm driving and Mulder's keeping quiet. Shouldn't he be having a say in this, too? Unless he already has, and I just haven't realized it. There have been a few signs that things have changed. I expected his concern and protectiveness after my cancer diagnosis, even if it irritated me sometimes, so that wasn't out of the ordinary. But then when I was in the hospital that last time, just before my remission, he was right by my side, more than I ever thought he would be. And he was constantly touching me, kissing my cheek and hand, as if he thought each visit would be the last. I guess he was afraid it might be. I know I was. After my recovery, though, I thought things would be right back to normal, and they weren't. He was still solicitous, more considerate than even after my diagnosis. And the gentle teasing and innuendos were back, stronger than ever, enough that I found myself responding without even realizing it. And I liked it. But then came Emily, and he pulled back again. I know, I pushed him away in the hospital that night, but I was so glad he was there. He dropped everything when I called and came out almost immediately, and he was right there the whole time. He was wonderful with Emily, and I could tell how much he cared about her from the first time he saw her. I know her death hurt him, too. But I was so wrapped up in my own grief, for Emily and my own lost chances, that it took a while for me to see his pain. And by then, we'd moved on, and I hated to bring it up and reopen those wounds. Now, things are back like they were before the cancer, at least on the surface. We tease a bit, our own version of flirting, I guess, just like any other male and female coworkers would do. But there's always an undercurrent of something else there. I've wondered why he hasn't broached the subject. He's usually the one to confront our demons, and I'm usually the one trying to avoid the conflicts. And I've caught him looking at me sometimes and was sure he was going to bring it up. But he's keeping his mouth shut about this. Maybe that's the answer. Maybe he's leaving this one up to me, and that's what my dream is trying to tell me. So I'll fill in the dream that way. The car is our personal relationship; the road, the path we're on; the storm, the uncertainty of what a romantic involvement would mean to us. I am driving and Mulder is silent, because he has given over control of this ride to me. And I must choose to confront the storm and risk it tearing us apart, or stop us where we are, safe. Safe, but alone. ==========END==========