Midnight Snack
Jan. 25th, 2010 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phasing_catMulder awoke a little after one. He'd always been a light sleeper, even when he didn't have a lot on his mind. His stomach grumbled, and he climbed out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Scully, who was sleeping peacefully beside him. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and quietly walked out of the room. As he drew closer to the kitchen he could see light streaming from the doorway, more than just the light over the stove they kept on overnight.
He stepped into the kitchen and saw where the light was coming from. Kitty was standing in front of the open refrigerator, hand on the door, staring into it like she was watching a movie. He waited a moment, and watched her. He was struck by how tiny and frail she looked in the pale light, by how breakable she seemed. She didn't move, just stood there in her pajama bottoms and tank top, bare feet on the cold tile, shivering slightly from the cold air spilling from the refrigerator.
"Kitty, what are you doing?" he asked.
"We don't have any eggs. I need eggs." She did not look in his direction. Her voice was soft but forceful. He stepped closer, and could clearly see the container of eggs on the second shelf. He looked at her again, closer this time. Her eyes were glassy with a faraway gaze, as if she was looking at something specific at a distance.
She's sleepwalking. He'd never seen someone sleepwalk before, but he was familiar with the phenomenon. He moved to put a hand lightly on her shoulder, only for it to pass through it like she was a ghost. For a second he wondered if he was dreaming, if she truly was a ghost, then he remembered what Scully had told him about her ability. She can slide her molecules between the molecules of another object. He was fascinated by the prospect, and now was witnessing it first hand.
"Why do you need eggs?" She was obviously in some kind of dream she needed to act out. Maybe he could help.
She closed the refrigerator and walked to the stove, picking up a bowl and a wooden spoon he realized she must have gotten out of the cabinets herself. The bowl was empty, but she stirred with the spoon as if it were full.
"If I make it, he'll come back. I promised I'd make him one every day if he came home. So... so if I make it, maybe he'll come back."
"Who?" he asked, curious.
"Luke. He loved my chocolate souffle." She continued to stir, her back to him. He was almost mesmerized by the movement of her small shoulder blades under her tank. They reminded him of the wings of a bird.
Luke? "Is he your boyfriend?"
She laughed and turned, setting the bowl on the counter. "No, he is... was, my best friend. I told him everything I've ever done, even what I did to Jacob, and he didn't care." Her brow furrowed for a moment, and he wondered if she would start crying. "Jeremy is my boyfriend. He's gone too. He went to search for Luke and never came back."
She turned her back to him again, and he stepped around to look at her from the side. She moved her hands as if she were pouring things into the bowl, then began stirring again. "I didn't want him to go, I told him there was no point, but he went anyway." She stopped stirring as a single tear ran down her cheek. "He left me too."
He was beginning to understand where some of the sadness in her eyes came from. She cared about these boys, and it appeared that they both left her. No wonder she'd have trouble getting close to him and Scully, and Will. First her parents, then her friend and boyfriend... his heart ached for her.
"So you don't know where either of them is?" He again reached out for her, this time making contact with her shoulder. She hissed and pulled away quickly as if his hand had burned her. For the first time she looked at him, though he wasn't sure she actually saw him.
"No. I... I don't want to talk about it any more." She looked down at her feet. "I'm tired." She looked back over her shoulder toward the refrigerator. "We need eggs."
He sighed. "I know, we'll get some tomorrow, okay? Why don't you go to bed if you're tired."
She nodded wordlessly, walking slowly out of the kitchen and down the hall toward her bedroom. He followed, hoping she'd remember in her dream state which room was hers, it was only her second night there. The door was open and she walked into the room. He paused in the doorway and watched as she laid down on the floor next to the bed, her pillow and the comforter already there. Why was she sleeping on the floor? He filed that question away with what felt like a hundred others as she pulled the comforter over herself and closed her eyes. He carefully closed the door and turned, returning to his own bedroom. He'd discovered he was no longer hungry.
He stepped into the kitchen and saw where the light was coming from. Kitty was standing in front of the open refrigerator, hand on the door, staring into it like she was watching a movie. He waited a moment, and watched her. He was struck by how tiny and frail she looked in the pale light, by how breakable she seemed. She didn't move, just stood there in her pajama bottoms and tank top, bare feet on the cold tile, shivering slightly from the cold air spilling from the refrigerator.
"Kitty, what are you doing?" he asked.
"We don't have any eggs. I need eggs." She did not look in his direction. Her voice was soft but forceful. He stepped closer, and could clearly see the container of eggs on the second shelf. He looked at her again, closer this time. Her eyes were glassy with a faraway gaze, as if she was looking at something specific at a distance.
She's sleepwalking. He'd never seen someone sleepwalk before, but he was familiar with the phenomenon. He moved to put a hand lightly on her shoulder, only for it to pass through it like she was a ghost. For a second he wondered if he was dreaming, if she truly was a ghost, then he remembered what Scully had told him about her ability. She can slide her molecules between the molecules of another object. He was fascinated by the prospect, and now was witnessing it first hand.
"Why do you need eggs?" She was obviously in some kind of dream she needed to act out. Maybe he could help.
She closed the refrigerator and walked to the stove, picking up a bowl and a wooden spoon he realized she must have gotten out of the cabinets herself. The bowl was empty, but she stirred with the spoon as if it were full.
"If I make it, he'll come back. I promised I'd make him one every day if he came home. So... so if I make it, maybe he'll come back."
"Who?" he asked, curious.
"Luke. He loved my chocolate souffle." She continued to stir, her back to him. He was almost mesmerized by the movement of her small shoulder blades under her tank. They reminded him of the wings of a bird.
Luke? "Is he your boyfriend?"
She laughed and turned, setting the bowl on the counter. "No, he is... was, my best friend. I told him everything I've ever done, even what I did to Jacob, and he didn't care." Her brow furrowed for a moment, and he wondered if she would start crying. "Jeremy is my boyfriend. He's gone too. He went to search for Luke and never came back."
She turned her back to him again, and he stepped around to look at her from the side. She moved her hands as if she were pouring things into the bowl, then began stirring again. "I didn't want him to go, I told him there was no point, but he went anyway." She stopped stirring as a single tear ran down her cheek. "He left me too."
He was beginning to understand where some of the sadness in her eyes came from. She cared about these boys, and it appeared that they both left her. No wonder she'd have trouble getting close to him and Scully, and Will. First her parents, then her friend and boyfriend... his heart ached for her.
"So you don't know where either of them is?" He again reached out for her, this time making contact with her shoulder. She hissed and pulled away quickly as if his hand had burned her. For the first time she looked at him, though he wasn't sure she actually saw him.
"No. I... I don't want to talk about it any more." She looked down at her feet. "I'm tired." She looked back over her shoulder toward the refrigerator. "We need eggs."
He sighed. "I know, we'll get some tomorrow, okay? Why don't you go to bed if you're tired."
She nodded wordlessly, walking slowly out of the kitchen and down the hall toward her bedroom. He followed, hoping she'd remember in her dream state which room was hers, it was only her second night there. The door was open and she walked into the room. He paused in the doorway and watched as she laid down on the floor next to the bed, her pillow and the comforter already there. Why was she sleeping on the floor? He filed that question away with what felt like a hundred others as she pulled the comforter over herself and closed her eyes. He carefully closed the door and turned, returning to his own bedroom. He'd discovered he was no longer hungry.
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