From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Mon, 31 Jul 2000 21:20:40 -0500 Subject: Drifting Reformatted (1/1) by Sam Foster Source: direct Reply To: foster1013@yahoo.com TITLE: Drifting AUTHOR: Sam Foster SPOILERS: Lots of 'em E-MAIL: foster1013@yahoo.com SUMMARY: A journal entry KEYWORD: Scully's POV CATEGORY: Vignette ARCHIVE: Please? If you could, please, keep my name and e-mail attached. DISSCLAIMER: The X-Files and all characters and "intellectual property" associated here with are the property of Fox Broadcasting and Ten Thirteen Productions...yada yada yada! AUTHOR'S NOTES: I really need to get a life! If anyone knows where I can pick one up, let me know. Thanks Ellie! Drifting December 26, 1999 I'm trying to remember when I first realized that I was drifting away from my family and friends. Some would guess that it was when I left for college. But really it must have been when I chose to join the FBI. To this day, my decision to not practice medicine is second- guessed by my family. After working on the X- Files for awhile I realized, that I have nothing in common with the people that were once such a huge and influential part of my life. It's not that I don't love them, or that I don't want to spend time with them. I just find it difficult to relate to them. With the horrors witnessed in the past eight years and everything I must hide from them for their protection, I have nothing in common with them. How do I explain to them that I was abducted as part of a Government conspiracy or that our Government, through the smallpox inoculation, is cataloging every human on the planet and storing the data in several massive vaults deep inside a mountain? How do I explain that while I was gone my ova were harvested without my knowledge and are being used to create clones to help aliens colonize our planet? How is it that I can have a daughter, yet have no recollection of being pregnant or giving birth? How do I explain that the coffin that they thought contained Emily's body was filled with sandbags, because her body was stolen? It's a challenge to sit through Sunday dinner knowing that this may be the last time we ever see one another. I know that we have delayed colonization for a while. Every time I speak to my mother on the phone or visit with my brother and sister in- law, I'm reminded that colonization can begin at any minute. I'm even denied the escape of mindless conversation about the weather, because I know that there is a town in Kansas that's weather is being controlled by the emotions of the local weatherman. I know that the Chernobyl disaster has caused the mutation of a man into a human- sized fluke that dwells in the Trenton sewer system. Most people envision themselves with the proverbial white picket fence, 2.8 kids and a family dog. My dog was eaten by an overgrown, man-eating alligator; that terrorized a small Georgia town. I've witnessed our Government attempting to hide its secrets and indiscretions by attempting to assassinate a 12 year-old chess master. Of course this 12 year-old chess master could arguably read minds due to heightened brain activity. I have witnessed the beauty of God's work and seen the horrors of mankind through the likes of Donnie Pfaster, and Eugene Tooms. I have made a deal with the devil for the salvation of mankind. I've had terminal cancer mysteriously cured by a little chip in the base of my neck. The same chip that arguably can influence me to drive hundreds of miles to a place I've never been before, without being aware of it. I've seen mass burial sites and autopsied more bodies than I care to count. Yet, my family still expects me to function and pretend that all is right and happy with the world. So I drift in and out of their lives. Showing up for the occasional birthday or maybe spend Christmas with them. I think Bill, has come to resent my visits because I am always preoccupied, or called in to work on a case with my partner. Bill also, resents Mulder. Bill blames Mulder for Melissa's death. I over heard him tell Mulder as much. Something about being a, "Sorry Son of a Bitch." Of course, Mulder blames himself for Melissa's death and everything bad that has ever happened to me. He even blames himself for Ritter shooting me. Bill feels that if I hadn't been assigned to work with Mulder, on his quest to find little green men (Hey! Bill, they're gray!), my life wouldn't be in constant danger and Missy would still be alive. I wonder if Bill ever questioned, what could be so dangerous about chasing aliens? No one seems to understand that I chose to join the FBI and I choose to stay with the X-Files. I could have asked for reassignment at anytime. I really don't care that my family doesn't understand why I do what I do. The only time in the past eight years that I even considered leaving, was after I confronted Mulder about Diana. Yes! He was right! I begrudgingly admit he was. It is personal, but not in the way he thought. It is personal I want to know the truth behind what has happened to me. I want to know how I allowed this quest to consume my life and how I allowed myself to drift away from everyone.