From: Mezzo4 Date sent: Sat, 16 May 1998 13:48:42 EDT Subject: In the Valley of Sorek (1/1) Laura Blaurosen TITLE: In the Valley of Sorek AUTHOR: Laura Blaurosen EMAIL ADDRESS: Mezzo4@aol.com DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Do what you like, just give me credit. SPOILER WARNING: US season 5 RATING: PG KEYWORDS: Unrequited MSR/ScullyAngst CLASSIFICATION: Vignette SUMMARY: Scully reflects on the ramifications of her life-saving implant. DISCLAIMER: The characters presented in this story are not mine and I lay no claims to them, nor am I profiting monetarily by writing about them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is my attempt at a comparative analysis of the mytharc. I hope that I did the idea justice. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the Valley of Sorek by Laura Blaurosen I am worried again. For the first time since the cancer went into remission, I am worried about what's going to become of me. In my body, I house a tiny piece of metal which is supposedly keeping me alive. I touch my neck there quite often. I cannot feel it, but I check the place nonetheless. Maybe I'm worried that it's not there anymore or that it's stopped working. What I am sure of is that there is a foreign object, most likely created by the government that feeds and clothes me, implanted in my body. When Mulder suggested that it was surely the cure to my disease, I hardly had to think about whether or not I would have it put there. It had been my decision. I was granting my permission to have it put there. I did it because I wanted to live. I was not through with this life. What I did not consider, however, was the effect on the rest of my life it might have for me. Something attracted me to that dam. Something controlling me, my thoughts, my body. I worry and wonder so much now that I lay awake many nights, not because I am not tired, but because I don't want to be vulnerable. If I sleep, I have a greater chance of being taken again. If I am awake, I might be able to keep it from happening. I am so afraid that I am no longer in control of my own will. That I am at the mercy of a covert agency which probably has monitored my every action since before I entered the academy. And now for all that I know, they probably know my every thought and every emotion. They probably also know how much I love Mulder. I often see myself as Delilah. Like Delilah, I was sought out to find the source of a man's strength. A man who posed a specific threat. I now believe I was chosen specifically. In the class I graduated with from the academy, there were several very capable pathologists. Any one of them would have been able to go and fulfill the agenda I had been set up to do five years ago. An agenda which I had sworn to Mulder I was not a part of. I had not lied to him, I just did not know the truth. Could they have know that Mulder and I would develop such a deep affinity for one another? Had they been counting on it? Perhaps Delilah, too, had not known the true ramifications of what she had been sent to do before it was too late. In all likelihood, Samson and Delilah did honestly love one another. I do not believe she was the scheming whore that tradition has made her out to be. In the story, it takes Delilah three tries before Samson tells her the truth. I don't think Samson withheld the truth from her because of a lack of trust. He may have already known what had been going on and was trying to protect her as well as the Israelites he ruled over. It is conceivable even Delilah was doing her own brand of stalling the Philistines, postponing as long as possible the betrayal which she would eventually be forced to play out on her beloved. What was it that they had held over Delilah's head to force her to do such a thing? What will they hold over my head? Our flight back to D.C. leaves in a little over 4 hours. I have lain awake in the most uncomfortable motel bed I have ever been in for a little under three hours. The only good thing is that the flight is a long one and I know that I will be able to sleep on the plane. Mulder will be able to tell that I haven't slept and he'll encourage me, like he has been doing lately, to let him be my pillow. We started that on the way back from California last Christmas. I hadn't slept for at least 48 hours and I finally started to relax when we got on the plane. Without a word, Mulder lifted the arm rest and pulled me to him. I did not refuse his comfort and when he began to stroke my hair, I finally fell asleep. I can sleep so easily when Mulder is directly near me. Those times are few, though. I get up from the bed and check the door. I am very tired and so I become more and more irrational with every passing minute. Paranoid. The door is still locked and so the boogey men won't be able to get in and take me. But they are still in my head. I check the connecting door to Mulder's room. Peeking around into the darkness, I make sure he is still here. I can sleep on the planes, in the cars because I am with him. Not that I feel I need his protection, but rather because I crave the security I feel when I am with him. It's like a child who believes the monsters that reside in his closet won't be able to touch him if he just stays in bed with the covers pulled over his head. Mulder is my blanket. I need some rest. I'm watching him sleep. At least he thinks I believe he's asleep. He's lying on his back and I can see his chest rising and falling, a sure sign that he's faking it. If he was truly asleep, it would be his belly that would move. Delilah let them cut off Samson's hair as he slept in her arms. He had no idea what was happening until he after awoke, bound, and helpless. They gouged out his eyes and threw him in jail, hiding him and his threatening strength away. They could take me in the night as he sleeps. If they know my thoughts, perhaps they can force thoughts into my head as well. They could force me to cut off Mulder's strength, force me to betray him. I would never be the wiser to it, until it was too late. And neither would he. I want so badly to be able to sleep, to get all of these crazy thoughts to leave my head. "Mulder?" I whisper. He stirs and pretends to awake from a deep sleep. "What is it, Scully?" He asks me this and I don't know the answer. I contemplate telling him nevermind and just retreating back to my room. But I don't. I need to rest. "I want to sleep," I tell him and I'm not exactly sure what I expect him to do about it. He sits up and extends his arm toward me, assuring me that it's alright to come near to him. I am overcome by an incredible urge to crawl into the bed with him and ask him to hold me. So I do it. He says nothing and I lay just close enough so that my head is pressed up against his side. I can hear his heart racing and I worry suddenly that this may have not been such a good idea. But soon I feel his hand in my hair, taking locks and pulling them through his fingers, one after the other and I am lost in the feeling. My mind is racing still with the same irrational thoughts. Even in Mulder's arms, I cannot manage to calm my troubled head. "Mulder, talk to me," I implore him. He sighs and is quiet for several moments, probably still trying to figure out what could make me do something so out of character. "D'I tell you I'm gonna have to get the radiator replaced in my car? 400 bucks." His voice is low and gravely. I am so thankful he is talking to me and talking about things of absolutely no consequence. He knew that's exactly what I wanted. He knew. "I told you that's what it was," I say, my voice muffled by the bedding and his body. "Yeah, you were right as usual," he agrees, drawing out the small talk for me. He strokes my hair still. "Mulder, you should really think about getting something new. You've had to replace almost everything in it." I finish off my comment with a yawn. "Yeah, you're probably right, Scully. But all I'll have to do is replace the engine and I'll have a whole new car." We're quiet again, but I am feeling calmer. I still need to hear his voice, though, to block out the specious ideas still invading my head. "D'I tell you I'm getting a $1200 refund this year?" "Jeez, really? Who are you sleeping with at the IRS?" I laugh a little at his words. His little joke is familiar, comforting. "Hey, Scully, wanna buy me a radiator?" he adds. "No, I think I'm gonna get a new mattress set." Which is true, but I'm opening it up to him. "So you have been sleeping with somebody at the IRS," he says, right on cue and I laugh again. The images and thoughts are being replaced with better ones, ones that focus mainly on Mulder. I could lay like this forever, content to let him caress my hair and listen to the way his voice resonates in his body when he speaks. I yawn again. I can tell he's trying to think of something else to say to me. I'm starting to drift off now. I love him so much for letting me be here like this. It wasn't too long ago that I wouldn't have dared to come in here like this. Now it doesn't matter, really. I love him. I trust him. And I know he feels the same way even if we've never laid it out in the open. "Mmmulder," I speak sleepily. He is still stroking my hair and it is soothingly hypnotic. "Sleep, Scully. Just sleep," he says and bids me lay nearer to him. I reach across his torso and he receives my hand in his. I can rest now. For a while anyway. ----------- I wake to a yellowish glow from the light next to the bed. For a moment I feel strange and disoriented until I remember that I came into Mulder's room last night. I lay still for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed that I ever came in here. But I feel so much better. Rested. Warm. Stronger. Mulder is sitting at the table, speaking with the airline. He's checking to see if he can get the flight changed to 10:30. I peer at the clock with blurred vision. It's 8:15 and we've long missed the 6:51 we'd been scheduled for. I smile to myself. He'd let me sleep as long as I could. And in that simple realization, I become aware of all the things this man would do for me. I feel the same way. I would rather die than let this man fall into the hands of the Philistines. Would rather leave and never see him again if it meant I could save him, save us both from their hold on us. He's trying to use his credentials to get the non-refundable tickets switched after the fact. This makes my heart light. All the things we've been through lately and he's worried about getting in trouble for losing $3000 in airfare and maybe having to spend $4000 to get us home. We've been spending alot of money lately on some fruitless searches, of which this trip had been one. Skinner's gonna have his ass. "Skinner's gonna have your ass, you know?" I say in my scratchy morning voice while he's on hold. "What's it gonna cost to get home?" "Morning, Scully," he says through a soft, sweet smile, not answering my question. He does not ask me how I feel this morning, does not say anything about how we'd slept in the same bed together last night. Instead, he finishes the flight arrangements, then approaches the bed. "Come on, Scully," he says as he brushes some hair out of my eyes. He kisses my forehead tenderly. "You can sleep on the plane." For a moment, I am going to say it. Tell him how much I love him. Tell him I would do anything for him. Tell him I would never betray him. But I don't. I am Delilah. Whereas I am not receiving any monetary rewards from the Philistines, it is they who feed and clothe me. It is they who gave me my position. It is they who gave me my cure. It is they who gave me Mulder. I was sought out to determine the source of Mulder's strength and reveal it to them. I have been servile and reported Mulder's actions as per my initial instruction, but I don't believe I have ever disclosed what it is they are hoping for. Will they force it from me eventually? My eyes are beginning to shut even before the plane gets set for take-off. Mulder turns himself in the seat so that I can lean back into his torso. This time he does something different and holds me around the waist. He pulls me tightly to him and I relax and sigh deeply. I am Delilah and Mulder is my Samson, strong and sexy, priest-like and a hero. My only prayer is that Mulder is able to use that strength wisely, and not become too ensnared by self-doubt and pity as Samson became entrapped by sin, and fall short of his mission, destroying himself and others in the process. And that I do not fall prey to manipulation. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ BLEVINS: The reason you're here, Agent Scully, is we want you to assist Mulder on these X-Files. You will write field reports on your activites, along with your observations on the validity of the work. SCULLY: Am I to understand that you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir? BLEVINS: Agent Scully, we trust you'll make the proper scientific analysis. You'll want to contact Agent Mulder shortly. We look forward to seeing your reports. "Pilot" ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Some time later, he fell in love with a woman in the Valley of Sorek whose name was Delilah. The rulers of the Philistines went to her and said, "See if you can lure him into showing you the secret of his great strength and how we can overpower him so we may tie him up and subdue him. Each one of us will give you eleven hundred shekels of silver." Judges 16:4-5 ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ end ____________________ Thank you for reading! Mezzo4@aol.com