Sent: Friday, June 08, 2001 6:57 AM


Title:  Connections
Author: Romantique
Classification: VA - Vignette, Angst.
Rating: PG.
Distribution: Archive anywhere, but e-mail me,
Spoiler(s): Amor Fati
Summary: Mulder connects any way he can.
Feedback: Yes, please:

This is the result of an exercise given to me by my
beta reader, Triton.  The exercise: take a topic and
write 500 words.  The topic was again "rubber band".

Mulder lay sprawled on the tile floor.  Pumped full
of Haldol, his body lay limp and lifeless in the
corner furthest from the door.  The expression on his
face was a hollow, catatonic stare.  His relaxed
jaw hung slightly ajar, as drool slowly escaped the
corner of his mouth.

His long, gangly body was clad in nothing more than a
green institutional gown, and he was vaguely aware
his bare ass and legs were cold against the sterile,
white tile.  The entire room was white and sterile,
empty, a monochrome . . . purposefully void of
anything that might stimulate his already increased
brain activity.

Lucidity floated in and out of the drug-induced haze. 
When it floated in, he would grab hold as if he was
clinging onto a lifeline.  He held on as long as he
could until the narcotic waves carried him back out
into the haze.  During one such contact with clarity,
he attempted to hold on as long as he possibly could
by counting the ceiling tiles.  He counted all the
way up to 78 before drifting off to somewhere else. 
Another time, he pulled hairs out of his forearm, one
by one, using pain in an attempt to connect his mind
to his body.  During these times when he would float
"in", he held no real concept of self, time, or
place.  He did well just to be.

Staring into space, across the floor he spied a small
red blur on the other side of the room.  The red
contrasted against the stark white of his
surroundings and immediately vied for his attention. 
Slowly, he dragged his long body along the cold tile
until he reached the small object.  With his prize in
hand, he pushed himself to the wall and up into a
sitting position.

He dangled the small, red loop up to his face to have
a closer look.  He smelled it.  The odor was
unpleasant.  He placed it into his mouth.  Upon
contact with his tongue, the taste was immediately
bitter, and he spit it out.  The flying, wet elastic
band hit is leg and lay stuck there, until he peeled
it off his upper thigh.  It was soft and pliable, and
he held it between his thumb and index finger,
stretching it out and then back in.  Again, he took the
loop between his thumb and forefinger.  Moving his
fingers back and forth against one another, he watched
in utter fascination.  The crimson ellipse twirled and
twirled so fast, it became a red blur.

When it came to a stop, he stretched the oval over
his hand and onto his wrist.  The saliva had
evaporated, and stretching the band this taut changed
the color to a lighter shade of red.  This color was
so familiar to Mulder, and he searched his mind for
the connection. 

"Red," the thought formed.  And then more came to
him, "beautiful red hair."

"Scully," the name formed on his lips.  "Scully."