From o-cha@universe.digex.net Sat Feb 15 20:37:13 1997 X-Files and all related characters and ideas are property of 1013 productions. No infringement intended. Spoilers for US4. OK to archive; ok to forward. Dear Penny by G. Harbowy. *Please comment* to grh@teatime.com Rating: G Category: V,A Summary: Scully writes a contemplative letter. Keywords: Post- Memento Mori. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Dear Penny, I realize the futility of writing a letter I can never send. In my training, however, I have become accustomed to keeping a journal of my activities, and in times of personal struggle it is a comfort and a release to be able to do the same. I hardly knew you. You were taken from this earth too soon. But you've given me more than I could ever give back: comfort, truth, a sense of kinship and hope. I can only tell myself that my presence during your final moments was enough to begin to repay the debt I owe you. I'm kicking myself. I should have let you talk to me about the place. About what happened. Because now there is no one to ask. Nothing to rely on but my own shaky memories. And even though I'm not ready to confront it yet, I'd rather have had the knowledge than to be left guessing at the nature of the horrors that have been perpetrated upon my body. At least I can rationalize my own abduction. The great shadowy "they" used me to get to Mulder. What other reason would there be? Dr. Scanlon's involvement only further indicates that our kidnappers were terrestrial in origin. Too much of a paper trail has been left, on DAT tapes and in mine shafts, and now in office records, as well. Too many times my name has appeared in places I have never been. I know now that my disappearance during those months was not the whim of chance. But you -- you were just an innocent, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You and the other women from your group. Volunteering unknowingly for the treatments that would in actuality hasten your death. Faceless, voiceless numbers. And for what? You told me to try to make sense of the experience, but I do not have enough of a grasp of it to even begin. They let you comfort me? Why? You said that compassion was not in their nature. You must have been more lucid than I to have remembered me. Why weren't they afraid that you would find me again? Perhaps it was a way of steering me to your doctor. To validate my name being in the files in his office. But they know that I have the connections to find out about them. Why take the risk? Oh, Penny. Forgive me for not being able to see through the veil of my own self-pity. As a doctor, I should have known enough to recognize my own psychological symptoms. I realize now how vital it is for me to have that information. It may have been our only chance at bringing these shadowy forces to justice, or at least at saving other women and men from meeting the same end. But I was selfish, drowned in my own grief and denial. I wasn't ready to hear it. Now I'll never have the chance. How many more will suffer because I insisted on cushioning myself from the same truth I've worked so hard to find? My only comfort is that you are in a better place. A place without pain, or suffering, or evil intentions. I will be in that place soon with you. I cannot say when. Without the accelerating effect of the treatment, I cannot use your experience as a guide to know how long I have. But I promise you, I will use the rest of my time to explore these dark avenues; to gain some sort of retribution, or justice, or revenge, and to do it in your name, and in Betsy Hagopian's name, and in the name of all the others. I will resolve this. You did so much for me, I refuse to let your suffering have been in vain. Love, Dana -- g. harbowy grh@teatime.com specializing in reverse psychology -- please don't visit my web page at http://www.teatime.com/grh/