From: HearthStone Date: 31 May 1999 17:39:24 GMT Subject: New: Veritas Singularum (1/1) TITLE: Veritas Singularum AUTHOR: HearthStone@aol.com CATEGORY: VA SPOILERS: Biogenesis RATING: G SUMMARY: Angsty little Mulderfic Disclaimer: We all know they aren't mine. The gift of feedback is appreciated. VERITAS SINGULARUM (1/1) Sweat dripped into his eyes as Mulder slammed a fist against the wall. Again. Again. And again. Once more since the bastards got high watching. The last brought a smile as he recognized a shift in bone. Crisp, angular bolts of agony shot up his arm. Welcome as a lover's embrace. Necessary if he had a prayer of survival. Pain offered a duality: stole his ability to respond yet brought him back to himself. Pain sealed out the intrusions, the voices that threatened to grind him to nothingness. He was trapped by a symphony of soloists, primed for individual performance. Discordant melodies all. No conductor. Each determined to play first chair. Gales of emotion swarmed into eddies of tragedy. Anger. Disappointment. Pettiness. Ignorance. Despair. Fear. Dread. Happiness? Feigned at best. He'd never imagined the quantity of terror woven into the tapestry of an average human life. Wave upon wave of thoughts, intricate yet jumbled, burst through every defense. Engulfed him. Begging him to follow, taunting him to understand. Daring him to take the journey into the cacophony and sort out the truths therein. Temptation burned, reminding him that falling completely into the agony could take him through to the other side. But...if he took the bait, if he chanced the journey... would he forget who he was in the process? Would he cease to be? They say you don't miss the small things until they're gone. The ability to soothe an annoying itch. The taste of vine-ripened fruit. The feel of its juices dripping down your chin on a humid summer's day. The delicious jolt of orgasmic release. The ability to be who you are. In your own apartment. In your own skin. Alone in your head. Solitude. He'd never fully appreciated the gift of singularity. The joy of oneness. All his life he'd sought fulfillment. In academics. During workouts so severe they made the world fade. At the point of epiphany as he plunged himself into the silky moisture of a lover. In the seeking of justice. He no longer believed he'd reach Life's pinnacle only by solving the mystery called sister. Now he knew better. Nothing was that simple. His savior lay within. In learning to control his mind. By understanding how to harness an endowment he found intriguing but never imagined as his own. He craved silence. Privacy. Solitude within the context of sensory overload. Fox Mulder looked overhead, peering into the intrusive camera lenses. Sensed a new voice enter his mind. Comfort and warmth. Welcome as a down jacket on a winter's day. No, he didn't have to find his way entirely alone. She was here. At last. Reaching out with her mind. Her trust. Her love. Hear me, he screamed. Pleaded. So close, he was sure he could hear the beating of her heart. Confusion and hopelessness answered his plea. Mulder screamed again in frustrated anguish. Help me, Scully. Oh god, help me. Bring me home.