From: "Mindy Jones" Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2000 02:28:52 GMT Subject: Hans Christian Anderson (1/1) by Jones, Mindy Source: direct Title: Hans Christian Anderson (1/1) Author: Jones, Mindy E-Mail Address: j_mindy@hotmail.com Rating: Not Rated Category: VA Keywords: Angst, UST Spoilers: none Summary: Scully muses, wallowing - I'll admit it - in self- pity. Angry at Mulder, etc. Takes place during the Fowley mess. What's funny is that she endured so much, stuck through so much pain, was loyal, was innocent, was beautiful, and in the end was rewarded by being turned into sea foam. You look at it some ways and she deserved it. But the point is that after all the joy and sadness and pain, rightness or wrongness, she turned into fucking sea foam. . . . "'Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.' He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat Against the stinging blast; He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. 'O father! I hear the church-bells ring, Oh say, what may it be?' 'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!' And he steered for the open sea. 'O father! I hear the sound of guns, Oh say, what may it be?' 'Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!' 'O father! I see a gleaming light, Oh say, what may it be?' But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. . ." -Longfellow === HCA = Sea foam. I remind myself of sea foam. But who am I kidding? Mulder didn't do this to me. It was myself realising that I had become nothing but an extension of a man. It was a pair of wide, warm, innocent eyes that I saw for a few days before they were taken away. It was a desease that came and went. It was fighting, not fighting, never winning. It was never acknowledging the =guilt= I've felt that's been gradually growing since the day my sister died. Maybe I was always empty. Few people are actually thoroughly spiritually tested. Perhaps I only thought I was such a strong person. Pride. I'm Daddy's girl, a doctor, an FBI agent, a healer, a friend. Mistake number one. Envy. Thou shalt not envy thy partner's inner strength. So he's stronger than he first appeared. So you're weaker. Tell yourself that doesn't bother you. Sea foam, but not the same story. Weak, Dana. Weak, weak, weak. Not even a jellyfish. Weak... Scully? Weak, Scully? No. Who is Scully? Who is that woman he calls, he relies on as a partner. Who is that woman he trusts? Dana, you used to know. Scully. Where did she go? Doubtful now that she was ever here. Let's see - before the cancer. Was that Scully? That girl trying to please him, the girl earning his respect diligently, happily, thoroughly, as she used to earn straight A's in high school. What made you care so much, Dana? What happened to that clinical detachment you prided yoruself on? Too late to judge Scully now. No time to analyse the past, let alone change it. --- It hurts so much to change, especially to change consciously. "You're making it personal, Scully." And that's it. Things have to change. Not jump to obey his command - not by any means. Change for a different reason. Change not because you're too close but change because you have to adapt to the closeness not being there anymore. How to change? Run away? Become cool and off-limits and professional as you never were before? No. Express disapproval of his behavior... Dana Scully, holier than thou art. No, and no. Truth be told, humble surrender is becoming more and more appealing. You win, Mulder. You were right. I won't fight for my dignity any more. I'll trust who you say to trust. No. Ugh. Gag me. Anything is better than Fowley. Then we're back to running away. Running from her and everything she represents. Mulder... Mulder. Don't trust her. It kills me a little more every time I see you do. One request, Mulder. I make so few. Don't trust her. And I know - I =know= that this is the one request you'll never, ever grant. Scully, you've become one of =Them=! Working against me! No. No, Mulder, no... no... no. Trusting me only as long as I give you what you want. Wicked, spoiled brat, Mulder. That's what you remind me of. Were we ever happy? Wait a second. There's no "we" anymore, Mulder, but you knew that before I did. "Scully, you're making this personal." It meant so little to you, Mulder, what we had. All you care about is what you have, and that's the truth. And you'll come out on top, Mulder, if They don't trample you. While I'm falling out of the battle, and no one's even invaded yet, Mulder. I might miss the big show. Will I be a helpless spectator, killed like the rest of them, when and if the aliens attack? Ah, Mulder. Sea foam. That's all I am. === THE END === Gha! Another weird one from my mixed-up little head. Looks like my forays into plot are over, which may turn out to be a good thing. j_mindy@hotmail.com