With deepest apologies to Frohike, my favorite LGM.
"Dark Cell"
by Orianna
Four thick walls surrounded her, soundproof and solid, 
except for the heavy door, which was always locked. The 
room was square, four long paces from wall to wall, six if she 
walked normally. 
The ceiling was beyond her reach, even if she stood on the 
narrow bed that was bolted securely to one wall. A toilet that 
automatically flushed itself once a day sat in the corner 
opposite the door. There was no light, no window, nothing 
but darkness so black that her eyes saw blurs of faded 
colors. 
Meals were brought to her twice a day, a bland platter slid 
through a three inch high slot in the door. Every fourteenth 
meal was laced with a sedative; when she woke, her clothes 
were fresh and her hair was damp. 
It had been a long time since she'd first waken captive in this 
prison. She had not been told where she was, or why she was 
there, though she had suspicions. She had not seen or heard 
another human being, only the regularly brought food let 
her know that she had not just been abandoned. 
A full year had passed, though she had no way of knowing 
that. At first she'd tried to keep a calendar, marking the 
passage of days in her head. But with no way to make a 
physical record, it became impossible to remember the day 
or date. 
Now, for the first time, the door opened while she was 
awake. The sudden light flooding the room effectively 
blinded her, but she heard the sound of a body ungracefully 
hitting the floor. The door creaked shut, and the light 
disappeared. 
Blinking against the spots that danced before her eyes, she 
felt along the ground until she found the person that had 
been thrown in the cell with her. The deep groan that came 
from her touch told her that it was a man. 
"Are you all right?" she asked slowly, not having talked to 
anyone but herself for a long time. Thinking that she had 
hurt him, perhaps touching a bruised area, she removed her 
hand from what she assumed was his arm. 
"I'm fine," he responded roughly, rolling away from her. 
The scrape of fabric and a faint sense of movement told her 
that he was sitting up. "Where are we?" 
She didn't answer, her mind swept into a dizziness of 
memory triggered by his voice. 
"Hello?" he said after a moment of silence. "Are you still 
there?" 
She breathed a laugh, not daring to hope. "Mulder?" 
He sat in shock for a moment, then whispered her name, 
"Scully." Reaching through the dark, he found her similarly 
questing hands, and pulled her to him. Hugging her tightly, 
he murmured her name over and over in a prayer of 
gratitude. 
"I knew they'd taken you," he said finally. "You were the 
first." 
With her cheek pressed against his shoulder, Scully ran her 
hand along his chest, searching for verification that this man 
truly was Mulder. And her fingers found it...a round scar 
caused by a bullet from a gun that she had fired. She looked 
up at him, more from habit than need. "Colonization?" 
Mulder nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him. "The 
beginning, at least. People like us, the ones who could expose 
the plans, began dropping out of sight. Most were taken, but 
there's an underground started." 
"The Lone Gunmen?" Scully smiled, thinking of the trio of 
paranoid friends. 
"Byers and his wife got out in time. Langley was out of 
town...no one knows if he made it or not." He stopped, and 
Scully recognized the catch in his voice. 
"Frohike?" she asked softly, knowing the news would not be 
welcome. 
"Shot in the back," Mulder said flatly. He didn't mention 
how he had been with Frohike at the time, how he had been 
the one the shooters were aiming for, or how he had been 
forced to leave his friend dying in the corridor. He felt 
Scully's hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that had 
escaped his notice. "Sure is dark in here," he commented. 
Realizing his need to change the subject, Scully shrugged. "I 
hadn't noticed." 
The next food tray that came held two meals on it, the food 
as tasteless as ever. Mulder made the accurate observation 
that it was worse than hospital food, of which he was an 
expert. 
Night, or what they assumed was it, found them sharing the 
narrow bunk, sleeping on their sides, curled against each 
other so that both would fit. "What would Mom say," Scully 
murmured, shifting to a slightly less awkward position. 
Behind her, Mulder chuckled, and contentedly inhaled the 
scent of her hair. It was different from what he 
remembered, but it still held that unique smell that belonged 
to her and her alone. "I think she would ask what took us so 
long." He was quiet for a moment, then answered Scully's 
unasked question, "It was hard for her at first, but she's 
doing all right." 
"Thank you, Mulder," Scully said. "I needed to know, but I 
was afraid..." 
"I know," he replied, gently kissing the back of her head. 
"Sleep, now, my Scully." 
'Morning' came, dark as always. They talked, Mulder 
catching her up on latest events in the world outside, Scully 
telling him about her fears and realizations. 
"You saved me," she told him firmly. "It wouldn't have been 
much longer before I went insane." 
"No," he denied her statement. "You're stronger than that. I 
don't know why They have you like this, or why They 
brought me here. But I know that you're strong enough to 
take anything They dish out." 
"I hope so." 
That night, as she lay in his arms, she confessed, "I love 
you." 
Grinning in delight, he touched her cheek. Finding her 
mouth with his fingers, he knew that she was smiling too. 
"Oh, Scully," he whispered. "I've loved you since the 
moment you walked into my office, innocent and beautiful." 
The days, inseparable from the nights, blended together with 
the same routine as before. But now Scully had a hope that 
she'd almost lost. For, although imprisoned by thick walls, 
and shrouded with darkness, she was not alone. One year 
passed, and for only the second time that Scully knew of, the 
door opened. 
The bright light blinded them both, searing their eyes with its 
intensity. Someone entered, heavy footsteps sounding against 
the floor. Scully grasped Mulder's hand firmly, not knowing 
what was about to happen. Surely they wouldn't add 
another person to the small cell? 
Mulder felt a pair of strong hands close around his arms. 
"No!" he cried out in realization, as they pulled him away 
from her. "Scully!" 
"Mulder?" she screamed, frightened beyond belief. As he 
was dragged out of the room, she lunged after him 
desperately, squinting against the light. "Mulder!" But 
another pair of hands held her back. 
She was released suddenly, but before she could move, the 
door slammed shut, and the darkness returned. 
--end--
About the Author: 
Orianna is one of three pen-names used by the author, who is 
now giving up pen-names and writing under "Orianna". She 
has been writing for twelve years and has several stories linked 
to Ori's Singularity.