Title: Mulder's Creek: 31. Mister Sandman
Summary: Desperation forces Scully to work with Mulder to discover the reason why no kids, including her nephew and Price, are sleeping.
On his way back from a middle of the night bathroom visit, Mulder pauses in the hallway. At first he'd chalked it up to his sleepy mind imaging it, but there was definitely someone talking in Price's room.
He pushes the door open, and is hardly surprised to see his brother standing in his crib, holding on for dear life, which is typical since he can't quite stand on his own yet.
What is surprising is that Price is chanting, or doing a baby's approximation of a chant, anyway.
"Hey, what are you doing awake?" Mulder asks, glancing at the glow-in-the-dark face of the nursery clock. It's nearly 3am.
"Aren't you tired?" Though Mulder himself is yawning, Price looks wide-awake.
"No." It's unclear to Mulder if the baby is answering his question, or just felt like saying the word. He knows his brother understands more language than he can say, but not how much more.
Mulder yawns again. "It's bedtime."
If Price understands that he gives no indication. Instead he braces his chest against the crib rail and holds out his arms to Mulder. "Pwease?"
Though he's tempted to take him out and let him play, he knows it's a bad idea. "Sorry, Buddy. It's time to sleep."
Mulder picks him up and puts him on his back. Unimpressed, Price practices one of his new skills. Pouting. Which suits Mulder better than having an object propel itself at him unexpectedly, which occasionally happens when Price's will is thwarted.
"Out," Price whimpers, staring up at him.
"What's up?" Mr. Leary asks, making Mulder jump out of his skin. Nearly. "I heard you talking."
"Price thinks it's time to get up," Mulder explains, yawning yet again.
"Ok, you go back to bed. I'll try to reason with the munchkin."
"See ya, then."
"Bessie, are you feeling ok?"
Bessie's eyes are bloodshot and it looks as though making toast requires a great deal of effort.
She looks weary as she answers. "Alex decided last night that sleeping is an optional activity. He work me by playing loudly in his room. Which is what he's still doing since I couldn't get him back to sleep."
"That sucks." Scully sounds sympathetic, but she's also thinking that she's grateful that his room isn't near hers.
"Yeah, well, he better not pull that again, or I'm going to sell him to gypsies before he gets too old to bring in a good price."
"Boy, remind me not to keep you up all night."
"You better not." Bessie growls. "Unless you like the idea of being sold into white slavery."
While art isn't the favorite class of most of the people there, the fact that they're allowed to talk sweetens the experience. Mulder sits at a table at the back of the room with Reyes and Fowley. If Scully was talking to him, he might have qualms about sitting with Fowley, but since she isn't – much- it's nice to sit with people who are. They're trying to work on their collages amidst a chorus of yawns.
"Does everyone seem extra tired to you today?" Mulder comments.
"Not everyone, but a lot of people," Fowely replies.
Reyes looks up from gluing buttons onto a supermodel's head. "Maybe Alexander wasn't the only kid keeping people up last night. Scully said her sister was threatening to sell people if they robbed her of sleep again."
Mulder feels a pang of envy. It used to be that he'd be the one to hear something like that. "That's funny, Price was up at 3am this morning, too."
Reyes' face softens, she adores his brother, as most girls do. "Aww, was he sick?"
"Nope. He was begging to be released from the imprisonment of his crib."
She rolls her eyes, but chuckles. "I bet you were just like him as a baby. At least we're not experiencing sleepless nights."
Fowley frowns. "Speak for yourself. I started to have trouble sleeping after... after we found Spender." He voice drops to a whisper on the last word.
"Wow...are you still having trouble sleeping?" Reyes asks. "That was July..."
"Nah. I began sleeping better in December. But not every night."
"Hey." Mulder thinks of something. "I bet if you did a survey of the people who look dead on their feet, eighty percent of them have little brothers or sisters."
"Interesting theory." Reyes remarks. "But could we get extra credit for such a survey? Maybe for social studies?"
Mulder and Fowley shrug.
"What do you think of this?" Mulder asks, sliding his collage across Sam's desk.
"Pretty neat. I like how you used fabric and paper both." Wisely, she doesn't ask him what it is. It's a sunflower on a blue background, at least in his mind, but it seems a little abstract to everyone else.
"Thanks! I knew if someone would know if it was any good, it'd be you."
Sam gives him shyly proud look after that. "My opinion is worth that much?"
"You are the family artist," Mulder tells her, pointing at the drawing of tiger cubs she's working on."
"You'd already claimed photography by the time I'd come along," she tells him with a smirk. "That's ok, this is more fun."
"Looks hard to me... Hey Sam, you asked me a while back if I knew about Bloody Mary-"
"And you said 'Oh no, not you too' so I dropped it."
"Then we got distracted by pie-"
He rolls his eyes; Weebl and Bob have been performing on her computer quite frequently lately. "But I meant to ask you why you wanted to know."
"Oh. Some of the girls at school said that if you look in a the mirror and say 'Bloody Mary' three time, she'll show up in the mirror and get you."
"That's the legend I've heard too."
"I won't do it, so they think I'm chicken."
"Nothing really happens when you do that, you know."
"I know, but..."
"And what do you care if some girls from school think you're chicken?" He asks, thinking it's a sensible question.
Sam sighs, and gives him a look that confirms he will never, not ever, understand the motivations of teenage girls.
"Go to sleep, Alex."
"No! I'm not tired," Alexander insists, giving her a defiant, and wide-awake stare.
Perching on the end of his little twin bed, Scully wonders what keeps Bessie from throttling him when he acts up this way. Bessie is out with a friend for a rare girls night, and Scully has been trying to get Alexander to go to sleep for the past two hours. He has twice as much energy as she does, and she's worried that she'll fall asleep before he does.
"Did you sleep last night?"
He shakes his head, making his dark curls bounce. "All done with sleeping."
"For how long?" she asks, thinking he's being silly.
"Forever!" he declares, jumping up onto the bed. "Don't gotta sleep no more."
"Of course you have to sleep! Everyone has to sleep, that's the way our bodies work. If we didn't sleep we'd be all weak and tired." She decides not to mention 'and die' since he's not quite four, and has a fuzzy concept of death anyway.
"I didn't sleep last night," he points out. "You look sleepier than me."
"I am, Alex. You wear me out."
He stares at her in alarm.
"Mommy said I can't wear my sponge bob shirt no more 'cause it all worn out, and fallin' apart. You're not gonna fall apart too, are you Auntie Scully?"
"Nu...Yes. If you don't try to go to sleep, I might fall apart, all over your floor. Then no more Auntie."
"Oh no! I'll go bed now!" he says, sounding shocked. To her amusement he scrambles into bed, and she's glad that she'd at least been able to get him into his PJs before he declared that he wasn't go to bed.
As she clicks off his light, she wonders if Bessie will be amused or upset about how she answered his question. Knowing her sister, she's betting on amused.
Things happen in a pattern. She goes downstairs, pours a cup of water for her pill, takes it. Goes up to the bathroom, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and goes back to her room.
As always, he's there, waiting for her.
"I'm not a rabbit."
"Forgot my carrots. Forgot my tea set too."
She gives Spender a puzzled look. "Tea set?"
"To read the leaves."
"What for?" Fowley climbs onto her bed and pulls the covers over her, hoping that this time he might get the hint and leave. It doesn't work. Never does.
"I want you to build something." She waits for him to go on, and eventually he does. "A walrus."
"Badger?" He sounds uncertain.
"Ok, I'm supposed to build a walrus. Or a badger. Out of what?"
She lets her head skin into her pillow. "Go away, Spender, you don't make any sense."
"Two for a penny, three for a nickel."
Groaning, she sits up, pillow in hand to throw at him, but he's already gone. She doesn't know how he left, she's just glad he did.
Finally ready to call it a night, Mulder turns off his computer and cd player. Once he does, he realizes that he can still hear something. Singing. Blinking in wonder, Mulder wanders towards the source of the noise, which is rather odd for this time of the night, even if it is the weekend.
Mister Sandman, bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him two lips like roses and clover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over
The door to Price's room is barely open, and he peers in, completely unnoticed.
Sandman, I'm so alone
Don't have nobody to call my own
Please turn on your magic beam
Mister Sandman, bring me a dream
With Price on her hip, Gale dances the two of them about the room, enthusiastically singing the Emmylou Harris version of the song, the one that's about a man, instead of a woman.
Mister Sandman, bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him the word that I'm not a rover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over
Mulder grins broadly, watching his mother attempt to get Price to sleep. Unfortunately for her, Price isn't having any of it. He looks gleeful and entirely too awake as their mother finishes the song.
Mister Sandman, bring me a dream
Give him a pair of eyes with a come hither gleam
Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci
And lots of wavy hair like Liberace
Mister Sandman, someone to hold
Would be so peachy before we're too old
Sp please turn on your magic beam
Mister Sandman, bring us
Please, please, please
Mister Sandman, bring us a dream
"No luck, huh Mom?" Mulder asks, breaking the spell.
"Mulder!" she gasps. "How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough to remember when you used to sing to me when I was a little boy. Boy, that was a long time ago."
"I stopped because you became a critic, and told me I sang terribly." Gale says, not looking upset. "Even at three you knew what you liked."Price, on the other hand, looks astonished when she puts him back in his crib.
"Well, your voice has improved since then." He laughs. "What are you going to do about him?"
"I made an appointment with his pediatrician for tomorrow. Over the phone he advised me not to worry if he didn't look run down. I get the feeling he only made the appointment to humor me. Baby doctors probably take classes in humoring their patients parents."
"Yeah..." He sees that Price is pouting again. "You've got to sleep some time, kid."
"Go back to bed, Mulder. Since we can't get him to go to sleep with help, I'm just going to leave him in his crib and hope he gets bored enough to lie down and sleep on his own."
"Won't he cry?"
"Probably. He has to learn that he can't always get what he wants, though."
"Ouch. Such a painful lesson."
Back in his room, Mulder smiles to himself when he thinks that it's a good thing that Price can't levitate anything heavier than a stuffed animal, or he might try to use his skill to get out of his crib. Not that, with crawling as his locomotion of choice, he could reach the doorknob.
Humming his mother's song, Mulder crawls back into bed. Almost asleep, he bolts up when a strange idea occurs to him. It's impossible, yet...
The Ice House
Price never did go to sleep, and he did cry to show his unhappiness at being alone, so Mulder is drafted to go buy lunch; his yawning parents swore they'd set the house on fire if they tried to cook. Since everyone is hungry as well as tired, eight burgers and fries seems like a good choice, so he swings by the Ice House, half wondering who's working that day.
Scully is at the counter, and she gives him a look that's half-polite, half-wary.
Before he thinks better of it, he blurts out. "You look terrible."
"Sorry. It's just, you look like my parents. Let me guess, Alex isn't sleeping either, right?"
"Why won't they sleep?" She groans. "They've been awake for days, isn't that supposed to kill you or something? I got Alex to lie down for about an hour last night, but he was up again right after that."
"You probably don't want my theory," Mulder tells her.
"Oh go ahead and tell me. I'm tired enough to have an open mind."
Thrilled that they're having a real conversation, Mulder is slightly hesitant to tell her about the idea he'd had hours before. But eventually his eagerness to share the thought gets the best of him. "Way early this morning, My mom was singing that Mister Sandman song to Price, trying to get him to go to sleep. He didn't, of course, but it made me think... what if there's something wrong with the Sandman?"
"What Sandman?" Scully asks, giving him a blank look.
"You know, the Sandman. Sprinkles sleepy dust on little kids eyes to make them sleep...ring any bells?"
"Yeah, that's something from cartoons."
"What if he's real? It wouldn't be out of keeping with the rest of the strange things that happen in this town-"
"Ok what?" He gives her a puzzled look.
"Ok I'll go with you to look for him." When he looks shocked, she adds," This town is pretty friggin weird, so who knows, maybe he is real. I'm willing to try anything at this point. Tell me when and where, and I'm there."
"Tonight at midnight?" He ventures. "And bring Alex with you."
"I've got a gut feeling that we'll have better luck if we bring him and Price along. I'm not sure why, but..."
"You want to follow your hunch. Ok, if Bessie falls asleep, I'll bring him with us."
"Great. See you tonight." He pauses. "Oh yeah... I need eight hamburgers and four orders of fries."
"Now you tell me." She does her best to sound put out, but there's an excited sparkle in her eyes. He's sure that she misses their adventures as much as he has.
Mitch and Gale must be delirious with their lack of sleep, since they immediately take up Mulder's offer to entertain Price downstairs so they can get some sleep. Sam is at a sleep-over so things are a little out of routine anyway, so maybe that makes them more accepting of another challenge to the status quo.
"... I don't have school tomorrow, so I'll just stay up watching movies." Mulder offers, watching the two of them fight to keep their eyes open.
"That's nice of you, son." Mitch tells him, yawning sleepily, and stumbling up the stairs.
Price, from his baby swing, gives Mulder a look that asks 'now what?' but Mulder really puts on a movie, in case they come back downstairs. When they don't after fifteen or twenty minutes he sneaks up to their room and listens. They've both snoring.
Grinning to himself, he dashes into Price's room for his current favorite blankie and the new baby blue hoody that Gale thought the baby just had to have. He's still struggling to get the sweatshirt on his brother when there's a knock on the door.
Alex is holding Scully's hand very tightly, and he looks very excited. Once Mulder joins them, blanket wrapped baby in arms, he comments on Alex's new sneakers. "Wow, I used to have light up sneakers like that once too."
"You did?" Alex seems awed, probably because Mulder is still one of his favorite people, no matter what Scully's feelings.
"Sure did. I bet you'll be a big help lighting the way."
"It's a good thing that we have tomorrow off," Scully says as Mulder begins to lead the way. Her flashlight is much more illuminating than Alex's sneakers, but neither of them have the heart to tell him that since he's taking path lighting very seriously. "Where are we going anyway, Mulder?"
"After lunch I got on the Internet and looked up the Sandman-"
"And you were able to find references that didn't pertain to that bore Gainman? I'm shocked."
"I was too. Boy, the comics must be better than his novels... anyway, from what I was able to learn, the Sandman is one of the fey."
"He's a fairy? No wings, though," Scully points out.
"Guess they don't all fly." Mulder shrugs, which makes him have to shift his grip on Price's wiggly little body, so he decides not to do that again. "But being a fairy, he probably likes living in the woods."
"Mulder! We can't wander the woods all night!"
"Why not?" Alex asks. "Woods are fun."
"See, I thought of that." Mulder sighs theatrically. "So I narrowed it down to the most likely spot. Sparkle Point."
"Wow, it's been years since we've been there. You do know, though, that the rocks there only glow because there's laced with phosphorous, right? It's why that grave stone up in Portsmouth, New Hampshire glows in the dark too. No fairy dust involved."
"No one likes a science geek." Mulder teases. "I know why Sparkle Point glows, but I think it might be just the sort of thing a fairy might get a kick out of."
"Ah, like crows and shiny objects."
Alex stops dead, making Scully stumble. "I don't wanna see a crow."
"We're not going to see a crow, I promise," Scully tells him. "All the crows are sleeping. Why your Mommy let you see that movie, I'll never know."
"The Crow?" Mulder guesses.
"No, The Birds."
"Lud! Lud!" Price attempts to mimic.
"Stop the world, I want to get off," Scully mutters as Price continues to chant and Alex goes into detail about what other birds he doesn't want to see, either, which makes Mulder think of nasty ducks. Scully looks more miserable, though, her lack of bird fears aside. If things were different between the two of them, Mulder would have given her a reassuring hug, but they're not so he doesn't.
It's fortunate that Sparkle point isn't too far from Mulder's house, because already Alex is getting tired of walking, and Price seems to have doubled his weight. At last the four of them reach the strangely glowing rocks. He has a moment to reflect on all the time he, Doggett and Scully had played there as very young children before everyone demands that he tell them what to do next. Or Scully does, anyway. Alex and Price don't seem to care.
"Now what?" Scully asks.
Resisting the urge to shrug, Mulder calls out. "Hello? Mister Sandman? We've got two very awake kids here that really need some sleep!"
"Oh, like that is going to work," Scully scoffs.
Alex, on the other hand, thinks that Mulder is hysterical. "You're so funny. We don't ever have to sleep again!"
"Too bad everyone else has to sleep."
"Yah, too bad!" Alex giggles.
"Bad 'Der," Price agrees.
Mulder would have been shocked that his ten-month-old brother had just strung two words purposefully together, except something else even more astonishing grabbed his attention.
"What do you want?" a cranky voice asks, behind them.
They turn around, and see a man standing there. He's wearing a long, red stocking cap, and a long night shirt that looks like it's cotton with vertical tan and red bars on it. A red velvet bag is lashed about his waist with a silky cord. If it's not the Sandman, they don't know who he is. Mulder and Scully exchange a look. They don't know what to say.
Luckily, Alex takes this in stride, and speaks up for them. "Are you the Sandman?"
"Yup, that's me."
"You don't look sleepy!" Alex accuses. "My mommy says the Sandman is sleepy and he yawns a lot."
The Sandman nods. "Usually I am. But I've been drinking a lot of coffee lately."
That response satisfies Alex, but not Mulder. "But why?"
"To stay awake, of course."
"We stay awake too." Alex informs him, and Price gurgles what could almost be an agreement. "Don't gotta sleep no more."
"Well, of course you do." The Sandman says, giving the boy an indulgent look. "All people sleep."
"Not me! I haven't slept for a year!"
"A week," Scully corrects. "But it feels like a year."
"Not really," the Sandman insists.
"Yes really. My baby brother hasn't slept since Monday night either."
The Sandman sits on a pile of the glowing rocks, modestly tucking his night shirt along his legs. "Oh dear. Is it just these two who haven't been sleeping?"
"Judging by the crankiness of most adults and older kids lately, I'd say no kid in Capeside under the age of ten has slept all this week," Mulder says, and Scully nods vigorously in agreement.
"I thought the position was largely ceremonial..." the Sandman murmurs. " This won't do at all. I never thought..."
"Why haven't you been visiting the kids?" Scully asks, which surprises Mulder. She's taking the whole 'the Sandman is real' thing pretty well in his opinion. There's hope for her yet.
"Well, last week was my two hundredth birthday, and one of my friends gave me a DVD player. Wonderful thing, DVD players. I discovered the most wonderful show on DVD and I bought all the seasons of it. I guess I sort of let watching this show take over, and shirked my duties, I'm afraid."
Curiosity gets the best of Mulder. "What show?"
"Sex and The City. Have you ever seen it?"
"No... We don't have HBO," Mulder tells him, which is true, but not why he's never seen the show. Really, he was expecting the man's answer to be something like M*A*S*H or StarTrek: TNG.
"Ah. You should see it some time. It's wonderful. Too wonderful." He stands up. "Guess I better get back to work. Shall I start with these boys?"
"No!" Alex and Price cry.
"God yes," Mulder and Scully tell him.
"Sorry boys, it's bed time." He reaches for the bag at his waist and loosens it enough to stick his hand in. "The sand's rather pretty, though, don't you think?"
Neither of the little ones can drag their eyes away from the sparkling sand held flat on his palm, even when the Sandman bends to blow it gently in their eyes. Giving little sighs, they quickly fall asleep, Alex sagging against Scully's legs, and Price suddenly drooling on Mulder's shoulder.
"It was really nice meeting you," he tells Mulder and Scully. "I guess I needed a wake up call. I think I better be going, I've got a lot of home to visit."
"Wait, before you go." Mulder stops him. "Where do you live?" He's been trying to figure out where the Sandman could possibly keep his DVD player.
"Normally the fey aren't supposed to show humans something like that, but since you brought this matter to my attention before I got written up by the council, I'll make an exception just this once."
He blows some more of the dust, this time into their own eyes. "Don't worry, it only puts kids to sleep. But it helps older people see what they do."
They blink a few times, then they can see a cheery little cottage about three hundred feet away from where they're standing. They must have gone right past it earlier in the night.
"Why didn't we bump into it when we went through here?" Scully asks critically.
The Sandman gives her and indulgent smile. "There are some things that don't exist within the bounds of the scientific, and me and my home are two of them. Have a safe walk home."
When they blink again, he's gone, and the cottage fades a little more from view with each blink that dislodges the sand from their eyes. "Hey, I think we'd better swap kids. Alex is too heavy for you to lug all the way home."
Mulder hefts Alex from the ground, and Scully cuddles Price. Neither boy seems to care who is carrying them, they're more or less dead to the world. Even still, Mulder and Scully don't say anything as they walk home, and it's only half out of fear of breaking the Sandman's spell.
Once they get to Scully's door, though, Mulder decides to brave an attempt at conversation. "Wild, huh? I've really missed this. The adventures, I mean."
"Me too," she agrees, suddenly looking wistful.
"Maybe we'll find more adventures," Mulder suggests hopefully.
"That'd be nice." She opens the door quietly. "Good-night, Mulder."
Walking the rest of the way home, he wonders if tonight could be considered a break-through. They'd spent more than an hour together, not fighting. It's a start.
The sounds of snappy pop music lead Scully to believe that everything is well in the house once again. Bessie is singing along to the radio as she dances around the counters, cleaning them. Scully's giggles give her away.
"Having a good morning?"
"It's a wonder what a difference a good night's sleep makes," Bessie tells her cheerfully.
"Is he still asleep?"
"He's sleeping like a log. I guess this week finally caught up to him."
"I'm surprised it didn't catch up to us, too."
"He woke up for a little while ago and told me about a dream he had before he feel back to sleep. That kid's dreams are as goofy as he is."
"How so?" Scully asks, pouring herself a glass of juice.
"He said that you, Mulder and Mulder's brother went and found the Sandman. Of course, he claims it really happened." Bessie laughs. "I know Mulder would probably go for something like that, but you? What a silly kid I've got. I think he just misses Mulder."
Scully manages not to choke on her juice, and is glad that Bessie decided it was just a dream. "I actually talked to Mulder yesterday. He came by the Icehouse."
"Did you get into an argument?" Bessie looks faintly concerned.
"Nah. It was a completely civil conversation."
"Just... good." Bessie's smile is knowing.
Sam bounds into Mulder's room, and he holds a finger to his lip.
"Shhhh! Price is finally sleeping, you don't want to wake him, or mom and dad will kill you."
"Oh, sorry." She looks contrite. "But I have to tell you what happened at the sleep over."
"Ok, so Hannah and Megan said I was too chicken to call for Bloody Mary-"
"I thought we talked about how that wasn't real," Mulder protests.
Sam ignores him. "So I said I wasn't and we all went into the bathroom, with the lights all out. I said ' bloody Mary, bloody Mary, bloody Mary, come to me' and they were all scared and giggly. Then a white face with bloody lips appeared in the mirror-"
"– and they ran off screaming. It was so funny."
Mulder gives her a suspicious look. "You weren't scared though. All right, what did you do?"
"Me? I didn't do anything," she protests. "Except let Daden in. He's the one who put on the make up and wig, and hid in the bath tub, behind the half closed shower curtain, until we said the words."
He chokes on his laughter. "Oh lord. You are definitely my kid sister."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"Nope.." Fowley agrees. "Are they mad at you?"
"They still think it was real. And by the time they figure it out, they'll be too embarrassed to say anything about it."
"That a girl."
Grams is sitting in the living room, reading her bible to prep for her Adult Bible study when Fowley hesitantly approaches her. She looks up and sees the apprehensive look on her granddaughter's face.
"What's wrong, Fowley?"
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
Puzzled as to why this is so upsetting, she answers cautiously. "I believe that our spirit survives after death, but I'm more inclined to think of it as souls going to heaven."
"But can't they get trapped here, unable to go on?"
"I hope not."
Fowley's face crumples. "If there aren't ghosts, I'm losing my mind."
"What do you mean?"
"Spender. He keeps coming into the house, and talking to me."
"At first I thought he had to be a ghost, since everyone had seen him before-"
"That is unexplainable," Grams mummers to herself.
"But... he talks to me, and it makes no sense. None. Maybe he's not really there, and I'm just going crazy."
Grams hugs her. "My poor girl..."
"Is there a history of insanity in our family? schizophrenia, maybe?"
"I don't think so."
"But that doesn't mean that there couldn't be something wrong with me," Fowley insists.
"No, it doesn't. Would you like to see someone? A doctor, I mean."
At first Grams thinks that Fowley is going to cry, but she slowly nods her head. "I think that's a good idea." Her voice is wobbly.
Grams gives her at gentle smile. "And if the doctor says there's no problem, we'll get a priest to come to the house."
Fowley's laugh is wobbly too. "I love you, Grams. You always know what to do."
"Not always. But I try."
Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile
< Voice Over>
This episode of Mulder's Creek featured music from:
Emmylou Harris ("Mister Sandman")
REM ("I Don't Sleep, I Dream ")
Kent ("If You Were Here")
Stay tuned for scenes from the next Mulder's Creek
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