TITLE: I'm One of Them (1/1)
AUTHOR: KatyBlue
CLASSIFICATION: MA, MSR
RATING: R, strong language
SPOILER: Requiem
DISCLAIMER: To CC and 1013 productions. You have created a masterpiece. Thank you for one more year and forgive my transgressions of fanfic. I'm only borrowing your beloved characters and will place them safely back in your sometimes alternate universe when done.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks to Meredith, who turns out a quick edit with abiding patience. Thanks to Laine, for always being enthusiastic about my writing. And as always, thanks to those still 'out there', reading this...

What the fuck is happening to me?

Or to put it in Judeo-Christian terms, which I'm doing for some unknown reason, 'Dear God, let this cup pass me by'...

Scully would be proud of my holy profanity.

There is a strange film swimming in the air ahead of me, in the cross stitching of the reddened beams. I'm trying to pull my hand back from the tug I'm feeling. I can't. I've got my panic face on, I know. The hand is doing some fucking jig in there, like a spastic slam dancer and I can't retract it. Scully. That's all that pops up in my head...my seriously demented head, may I add, for thinking that I couldn't fuck this up. For thinking there was even a remote possibility that I'd weasel my ass out of the vice this time.

I told her I couldn't lose her. I was too selfish to go on without her. That's right. It's always about me. I couldn't lose her.

The pull is getting stronger.

And I know with an awful certainty that it isn't me who's going to lose her.

It's she who is going to lose me.

And isn't it just so much easier this way, selfish bastard that I am?

There's a bizarre visceral tug going on inside me now, as if the malevolent hand of god is about to pull me inside out unless I move forward. Telling me to take a step ahead or dire consequences will happen to my internal organs. At the point where it becomes so painful I'm about to cry like a baby or piss myself, I take the step.

Something's different in this step.

Dust motes and strange winking flecks whirl upward through the air too slowly, as if it's viscous humor rather than air. It even feels like walking through liquid. The light makes me squint.

I stop dead when I see them all, just standing there.

Lambs for the slaughter. Every one of them standing there dumbly. Peaceful in that whitened circle. Fucking hand- chosen to die.

I'm one of them.

Oh, God. I'm one of them.

I can hear Skinner yelling behind me, through the wall of matter or anti-matter or whatever the hell it is. I can't turn around. It's not like I don't try, for Christ's sake. There's nothing I want more than to turn around and run like hell. Away from these people.

Lambs for the slaughter.

I'm paralyzed.

There is no way to move but forward. I have no choice. Leaden limbs lead me on. I don't want this.

Oh, Scully. I never wanted this.

No control unless I move where they want me to go. And oh, but this is not where I want to go...not what I want...I can't stop...I don't want to step into this crowd of strangers. I don't want to. I'm not one of them. I don't know them.

I'm not one of them.

I can pause for only a second. Then I step into that unholy circle out of something less than my own volition. It's inevitable. Hello my fellow sufferers, we who are about to die...

I am finally afraid.

And even as the fear grips me, some part of me resigns itself. You saw this coming, Mulder. You saw it coming and still, here you are.

Scully...

Jesus fucking Christ, Scully,

Please forgive my blasphemy. Please forgive me.

I am so sorry.

Billy Miles and Theresa touch me. It seems fitting even as I look away from them. Unknowingly, they are my Judas. My beginning meets my end. The alpha and the omega. I look up and it's the only moment in this whole shit storm when anything good happens. For a second I'm hopeful. Samantha revisits my memory. Amazement actually hits me, and my knees almost buckle, jelly-like supports that they are in the odd atmosphere. Yup. It's a spaceship alright. A big ol' fucking spaceship. Hello, my own personal Jesus. Also somewhat of a Judas now, if I want to get technical about it. I am betrayed on all sides.

And I have forsaken Scully.

I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, Scully.

There's a strange tugging inside me again, from head to groin. Getting stronger. Uncomfortable. Again, I'm almost ready to void myself but manage to maintain control of my bladder and spare myself the indignity of this mundane mortal urge. I hurt like hell. Everywhere.

They're going to take me.

I'm leaving.

A surge of regret hits me. I'm not supposed to go. I'm not supposed to leave her alone.

My eyes float back down to earth and I look out at the forest. Say goodbye, Scully. Goodbye, cruel world. I actually think I'm vaguely funny for the briefest second. Cracking a joke to myself. Thinking it might all be okay. Still imagining I might come out of this unchanged. Until my eyes recognize who, or should I say what, is approaching. The alien fucking version of the terminator.

Oh, crap.

I'm certain on his approach. This is it, Mulder. Your number's up. I'm pretty sure I've all but fucking blown this one right out of the water. He singles me out to stare down as he comes into the tugging force field and, like two pit bulls in the ring, we regard one another in the eerie light. It hurts my eyes. They blink too slowly. We have a long and not very personable history.

Shit-for-brains, god damn know it all asshole, Mulder. Look where the fuck you are now. Someone just eighty-six me and get this over with, please.

Oh, Scully...

She'll be better off without me. I try to tell myself that.

"Scully, I'm so sorry." I whisper this inside my head. I swear it echoes. And I hear the whisper of her name repeated back around me. As if everyone else has picked up on the phrase and is chanting it softly, over and over in the liquid air. I want to clap my hands over my ears and stop the echo's reverberations.

I know this feeling. I remember it.

Get out of my head! You're not invited!

I feel the familiar throbbing. The alien bounty hunter moves closer. He gets in my face. I can't read his intentions. He's a fucking alien. Cut me a break here.

He's in my head too.

What have I done to deserve this? I want to re-do the last twenty four hours. I'm almost ready to re-do my entire life at this point. Scully, it's me they wanted, I think with some wonder. What did they do to my brain?

Why didn't we think of this?

I know I can't escape this fate. I've been on a collision course with it all my life. I feel like a bug, pinned under this ship. Under this alien gaze, peering out at me through much too human eyes.

And the worst part of it all is what I have just done to Scully.

Forgive my transgression. Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. Another Judeo-Christian manifestation of my terror spews out like verbal diarrhea of the brain. It's either the ultimate hypocrisy that these phrases are popping into my head or an audio specter of Scully, forcing belief on me as my deathright through some fierce, psychic connection. She'd be pleased with my sudden conversion. And it shouldn't be a surprise to realize I'm no different than anyone else in experiencing the ultimate irony of the staunchest atheist on his deathbed. Yelling for forgiveness from a god he never honored or agreed with.
But in my head, the cry is for Scully.

The gold cross constricts around my neck on its chain. Scully's cross. Burning its brand over my heart. Carrying her hopes with me into this hell. I can feel her fingers trembling against my skin, setting it there to keep me safe. She almost couldn't fasten the clasp with her fear. Her face was so serious.

Her prayer, about to be unanswered.

Maybe the alien is directing my thoughts, ugly son of a bitch. Playing with me. I want one of the little gray ones with the big eyes, thank you. Not this lurching hulk in the likeness of a man. It seems so unfair. He's looking at me. I look back. I feel tired. Drugged. This seems fairly benign as far as euthanasia goes. There are pictures in my head. But I can't make any sense of them. And when pain shoots through instead, I wince, knowing this too would come. Realizing that my body is buckling...a hot coal in the very center of my abdomen, burning. It spreads upward and my brain is throbbing. I'm going to vomit.

Oh god, it fucking hurts...

Not so benign after all. I hear voices beginning to keen around me. A wail of terror and fear. A lament of the lost.

Pain.

Help me...

I see Scully, in the midst of this darkening.

Amazingly, another prayer leaves my lips and goes up. One of my own. 'Let me not lose this earthly sight'. She's sitting on a couch, holding a baby. She's not looking at me, but at the baby and I feel stupid watching her. Mesmerized. Regressed. It calms me, she's so gentle. She's smiling. I feel my lips parting in response... oh, Scully...you are so beautiful and I never told you... burning needle inserted into my brain... senseless brand of pain...god, don't let her go out of my mind...sitting there with that baby on her lap...a baby...god help me, Scully... don't take her away from my sight...let me watch this forever.

I'm curling up. My body folding in on itself. Floating. Retreating to the womb.

I want to be inside...inside Scully...inside the light...

Spare me this darkness...let this cup pass me by... is anyone even listening?

I hear Scully.

She whispers to me in a soft susurration of love. "Once upon a time there was a little baby..."

....a little baby...

I close my eyes and let go.

THE END

send feedback to katy2blue@aol.com. No flames please. CC is the one responsible now for babyfic and I don't know his e-mail addy.