From jkc1984@niia.net Tue Mar 25 17:36:31 1997 Subject: I Understand (1/1) From: jamescampagna -------- The new videos actually inspired this one. Breathlessly, I watched the trilogy of Duane Barry, Ascension, and One Breath. And I came to understand why people hated Krycek so much, and *exactly* what Scully's abduction meant to Mulder But what fascinated me was Duane. And that's what this story is about. DISCLAIMER: I don't own the X-Files or it's characters. They belong to Fox, CC, and 1013, and no infringement is intended at all. SUMMARY: Set during "One Breath". Duane realizes just what he has tampered with by taking Scully from Mulder. RATING: Uh...PG, PG-13? No naughty words or *overly* graphic situations. WARNING: Bit of a relationshipper's view here. Also, not quite sure on the blocking, but I'm taking a guess. CLASS: I'd rate it a Duane Barry vignette with Mulder romantic overtones. I Understand (1/1) Ninx "Then what happened after you took her out of the trunk?" he said slowly, eyes peering down at me in a glazed threat. Somewhere in the back of my head I estimated he hadn't slept for at least a day. Something else back there told me he was on his last leg, completely on the edge. "We walked a little ways up to the top of the mountain," I replied gravely, voice low and harsh. "Right where you found me." "Then where'd you take her?" he asked immediately, voice as low as mine, halfway resigned. "I didn't," I replied quickly, feeling a little shocked. This man believed!! I'd seen it before when he was in that chair, tied down by my own hands, telling me exactly what Duane Barry had gone through! "They did." Quickly, I rushed into my next sentance, voice dropping to a whisper as I tried to explain it. "That was the deal. Her instead of me." He averted his eyes from me, and I could see him tense and tighten, gathering strength for the next question. I didn't expect it, though; I'd never have thought I would've heard those words from his mouth. He was a believer going against himself, saying those words. "Did you kill her?" They fell in a soft whisper, sort of like dropping the bomb. He was playing his last card, trying to invoke the response. The emotion inside those words shocked me, Duane Barry...and I was a man used to shock. All his pain, all his agony, seemed to rush up then; his soul poured itself into my lap. It was then that I began to understand exactly what I had done. "No," I replied in a soft whisper, the shock pervading my voice. Right away, I knew he wasn't convinced. Not at all. With more strength in my voice, I summoned the steel inside me and added, "I swear it." "How'd you get this?" he asked quickly, impatiently. "From the ship." "What ship?" I felt as if a shock bomb had gone off. Was this man, this FBI man, calling me crazy? "You saw it," I insisted quickly. "I saw a helicopter," he fired back, his whole face set in angry determination that caused fear to creep up inside me. He thought I was lying. He thought I was crazy. "They were here," I cried quickly. "I'm not lying to ya!" It was then that my eyes caught it. The flash of blue outside the window, the people in suits standing there. Mocking him for being normal in his search for the truth of his partner. Mocking me for not being able to get it to him. I'd show them!! "There they are!" I shouted, pointing. They quickly retreated before he could turn, but I continued. "Ask them! They know what happened!" I leaped up, moving toward the window, trying to urge him on. "Sit down, Duane," he replied. "No!" I cried, trying to impress my will upon him through emotion. Couldn't he see that they held the answers? Not me, the lackey, but they who called the shots!!! "You gotta stop 'em!! Hurry, hurry!! They were just out there! Now right outside! They..." but he stopped me then by grabbing my arms and shouting, "Settle down, Duane!!" BUT I WAS TRYING TO HELP!! He couldn't see...he thought I was nuts! But he needed to find here, a blind man could tell that. It didn't matter if I was crazy or if I was sane, he needed her! Duane Barry had been married once, had kids--he knew about love!! So did I!! He needed to find her...needed to love her... He slammed me into the desk, but I wasn't gonna give up on his gettin' her back. It had been one long, cold day since I'd lost my wife, even on the drugs. "Oh!" I cried when I hit the hard, cold surface. Struggling, I screamed, "They'll tell you where she is! The military's in on it just ask them!!" I felt his touch on my wrist, felt something being pulled...then he flipped me over, and I could see the madness in his eyes. What was it now? He brandished it in front of my face--red hair sticking with blood to paper. Red hairs, titian red like his partner. Oh God, his partner.... "Did you hurt her? DID YOU HURT HER!?" "No!" I screamed back, but it was a losing fight. "WHAT IS THIS?!?!" he yelled, then dropped it. His rage was palapable now, coming off in machine gun sized heat bullets, heading right toward me. His hands, one which had held that evidence and one which held me, both converged on my throat. "ugrhghh," I managed out, twisting my head, fighting his choke with all my survival, yet somehow....wanting to sucumb to it. "urfghh," I said again. His face was squeezed tight, tight as the hands around my throat, and I could feel the pain, the hardness of dying and the throbbing of choking. Along with something else, not mine, but his. he screamed, not aloud but in his hands, in my head. Pain seeping through. And then he let go, moving away from me, pushing me into the chair as he tried to regain his control. I knew he couldn't believe what he'd done..choke a witness?! That was asking for trouble. But I understood why. And how could I make it up to this man, this poor fragile man whose very soul I'd stolen? I didn't know. I was resigned to not knowing anything. His breathing was hard, matching my sick coughing as I regained my breath and found I couldn't breathe exactly right. He'd done some damage in there, but there wasn't much time left for me anyway. A shadow of death had fallen across me as I realized my sin. I'd taken her from him. And no priest could take that burden from me. He moved away, walking out of the room with hurried steps, trying his best to turn his back on me. But I had to offer...one last chance.... "I'm sorry," I said. "I had to take her." True; I couldn't stand the burden anymore, of hearing the voices in my head, of not knowing what to think or who to believe, of being drugged up for nights on end only to have the pain be worse when it wore off. He turned on me, and I could see the sharpness in his eyes, the daring, asking the question, "I hope they're not hurting her," I said softly, offering the only condolence I could. "too much with the tests." He held my gaze for a little bit longer, and I breathed out another, "Sorry." Then, he turned and shut the door.