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...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part (1/1)
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.
(
geocities.com/area51/quasar) (
geocities.com/area51)