From: mirax327@aol.com (Jennifer Scott) Date: 02 Oct 1999 01:29:43 GMT Subject: REV: Killing Persephone (NC17) 1/1 by Jennifer Scott Aargh. So sorry. I screwed this up the first time I tried to post it. Lemme try that again... Killing Persephone by Jennifer Scott (Mirax327@aol.com) Rated: NC-17 because I'm paranoid about offending someone. Classification: VA Spoilers: Biogenesis Keywords: Biogenesis Post-ep; M/S UST Archiving: Gossamer, Eph OK. All others: with permission. Disclaimer: You know, Jungians would claim that the characters choose the author, not the other way around. Hence, CC & Co can't sue me: Mulder & Scully made me do it! Since he technically owns them, he'd just be paying himself. Get it? Summary: Institutionalized!Mulder's thought processes. Cacophony. Author's Notes: It's weird. I know it. But it demanded to be written. Depending on response, it may be the first chapter in a new series... but only AFTER I finish "Enemies." I AM working on "Enemies." It's just being difficult. More will be out soon. One last thing: I cannot thank the inestimable Jeremy Paige enough. Dahlin', it's still beautiful! You know what I'm talkin' about! Feedback: {:::Whimper:::} Please? I'll be forever indebted... Mirax327@aol.com X~X~X~X~X Ah, the beauty of cacophony! Picture a fifty piece orchestra. Push it down an elevator shaft. The initial shock of free-fall weakens the ability to play a musical instrument. The French horns blat inadequatly. The tuba mumbles something unintelligible. Bodies strike the concrete walls, bounce off bruised and bleeding. The impact knocks the wind out of lungs. Wrong notes, squeaks, human cries become audible. Instruments also strike and scrape concrete. Brass instruments bend, perverting pitch and tone. Woodwinds snap. Percussion rats and tats on the way down, not quite so rhythmically as it should. All the while the orchestra plummets faster. The tempo quickens. Rising above the clamor, the trumpets peel off one whining note - a C. As the orchestra tumbles, the Doppler Effect bends the pitch lower and lower. C sharp, E, G. The impact of orchestra on concrete at terminal velocity shakes the elevator shaft. With a clang and a splat, the cacophony ends. The audience peering down into the elevator shaft begins a confused, morbid applause. "Encore!" someone yells. Too bad the orchestra is my mental health, and the elevator shaft is my mind. When I realize that I forgot about the audience for a moment there, I widely smile. Once Scully finds out who holds the season tickets to the symphony/cacophony of my mind, *I'll* be the one in for a show. I smile again; the musicians bow at the standing ovation. Give the audience something to think about. For a moment, I can't quite remember what I was TalkingThinkingWondering about. That happens a lot now. I'm just grateful it's night-- sometimes the audience nods off in their plush seats, dozing in their tuxedoes, when the performance stretches on for too long. That's when it's safe... when I know they can't sit in on the rehearsals: once reality starts to blur. But I was thinking... something important. Of course; how could I forget? Scully. Persistent Scully. Persuading, persecuted, perspicacious Scully. Persiflaging, perserverant... Alarmingly, I can't remember. Who was I talking about again? Pers.... Pers.... Must have been Persephone. The beloved daughter of the Earth Mother, kidnapped to be mate to the god of the underworld. My heart clenches when I remember that I forgot. How could I? {:::Oh, the angst! The angst!:::} It's Scully. I can't remember whether I want her to come or stay away. If she draws too close, they'll kill her. But I need her. Suddenly, I'm not so sure whether the problem is that I can't remember, or whether I couldn't decide in the first place. Is this what I meant when I was talking about reality blurring? I was talking about reality blurring, wasn't I? What's it gonna be? Keep her away; protect her? Want her to come; need her? I can't quite remember the logic behind keeping her away, but it's pretty ridiculous on the surface. She's the goddess's daughter, the god's mate. You can't kill an immortal. You certainly don't need to work too hard at protecting one. Or wait... was it just the mother and the Underworld God who were protected? Did Persephone share their safeguard? Or was she part mortal, and fair game to the deathman's meed? Would she rule Hades, or serve? But, you know, that second choice sounds okay. Like breakfast this morning. You can have gruel-- approved by two out of five English waifs-- or Eggs Benedict with the delightful Hollandaise sauce Gaston whipped up this morning, before the butt- crack of dawn. My stomach growls, but I ignore it, remembering that I was trying to remember what I'd forgotten. Or is that right? Focus. FocusFocusFocusFocusFocus. Fuck us? Oh, yeah. Do I want Scully to come? If you insist... But... wait. I seem to remember that I forgot something about needing. FocusFocusFocusFocusFocus. Needing? What am I trying to remember that I forgot about needing? Needing Scully? I remember NeedingNeedingNeedingKneading? Scully. Don't I? Kneading Scully? Of course; you don't forget something like that. She shuddered {:::close the windows; draw the blind; seal the shutters... don't want to give Them anything to hold over our heads:::} above me as I squeezed the globes {:::globe, earth, world; I felt the earth move, did you?; I'll do anything in the world for you.:::} of her ass {:::Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass...:::}, kneading her flesh between my aching fingers before the doctors came in to do another test. No, wait.... That can't be right. Well, it's not the most *wrong* feeling in the world, but I don't remember a doctor. I must have forgotten what it was I was supposed to remember, but I can still feel her all around me, and taste her on my tongue-- deeper even than the sweaty/sterile smell of my cell-- and I think that if I just WantNeedThinkPull hard enough, she'll come. To me, that is. But with me would be good, too. Lucidity protests for a moment, before I realize that it's working, and she knows, and she hears, and she agrees, and she'll come for me. When I try to remember if I want her to come for me to take me with her, or to *come* for me as I fall with her... I push the perspicacity I felt from her away. For a moment-- while I'm still able and before I forget-- I can't help but wonder if I'm killing my Persephone. ~Jennifer Scott... Shipper X-Traordinaire Mirax327@aol.com "Do you really think there can be a happy ending for people like us?" ~Catherine Banning (Rene Russo) in The Thomas Crown Affair