BLAME
By JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com
This fanfic was written for the second X Files Lyric Wheel. Thanks to
Arsenic for handing over lyrics that conjured up some good old
fashioned MulderAngst. I hope this piece isn't taken the wrong way or is
against canon. But then again, the night in question wasn't consistent
on the show either. :-) I claim no ownership of Mulder or his problems.
~~~~~
Mulder walked in for his appointed session. Julianna Stone's office
oozed feminine sophistication, from the chintz fabric on the furniture to
the fresh flowers that always filled the golden pot on the table in front of
the couch and in the vase that sat on the left, front edge of her
organized desk. When he had first seen her lair, he had the thought that
he didn't belong there, or anywhere near it. Not only for the reason one
would need to go into her office, but because it just oozed a type A
personality.
But, he had given it a chance. Mulder had survived eight 50 minute
sessions so far with the psychologist that he had found by sticking his
finger in the Yellow Pages. The first couple of sessions had started with
the usual, getting to know you talks between therapist and patient, with
Mulder wondering when she'd want him to start blaming his parents for
the life he had been given to lead. Joking had been his way of dealing
with trauma. He grew up with a dysfunctional family and he'd seen
horrible, despicable things in his line of work. None of it could get to him
if he was able to toss out a 'Mulderism'. Their eighth session had slowly
taken on a more personal tone, too close to what he had been covering
for all those years, so he had rescheduled the ninth one three times
before he realized he had to bare his soul to someone.
Julianna Stone was a study of contradictions, just look at her name. A
soft, earthy first name, along with the harsh, strict one at the end that
was a gift from her husband. The moniker fit her to a tee. Her office was
light and delicate, but her style of therapy was abrupt and very often, to
the point. It was getting harder and harder to lie to her, and Mulder
wondered if today would be the day that he would finally reveal his
guilt.
She had been wanting Mulder to get to the point of his problems during
each of their sessions, but he always held back. He didn't want her to
think badly of him. There were some things that people never needed to
know. That day, Mulder was ready to talk. He needed to get it out in the
open to someone, but not Scully, or the Gunmen, or Skinner, certainly
not his mother.
Since you could set Greenwich Mean Time by Stone's punctuality,
Mulder looked at the clock and knew that in exactly seven seconds, she
would be walking in through the side door. He sat up straight, adjusted
his tie, and opened his suit jacket and placed the flaps on each side of his
lap, crossed one ankle over the other knee, then and smiled as Dr. Stone
entered her office with a cheerful, "Good afternoon, Fox."
She sat in her mauve armchair across the coffee table from him and
clicked the top of the timer on a side table, with a slightly concealed flip
of her finger. So smooth, that woman. Mulder wondered if other
patients realized how slick she was, or if he had only picked out the
maneuver because it was imperative in his line of work to watch people.
She pleasantly smiled as she set the fresh legal pad on her lap and
flipped what seemed to be a solid gold pen through her fingers. "I'm
glad you made this appointment, Fox. What was so urgent in Santa
Monica, that you canceled our last one?"
"A magician was decapitated during his act," Mulder responded, then
added, "That wasn't part of the act."
"Ah," she sighed, hiding her surprise at how dispassionately he reported
that. "Well, let's get to the point."
"What is the point?"
"The point is why you skipped three scheduled appointments. And don't
tell me that it was work. That didn't seem to stop you before."
He inwardly smiled as she was right, yet again. He flipped his hand
through his hair, a gesture that he knew cried out frustration and said,
"We're going to deal with a painful subject, and..."
When his voice trailed off, she gently nudged him into telling her all
about it. She figured she knew where the problem laid, and started out
with, "We were discussing your mother during our last appointment. Do
you remember where we left off?"
Mulder sank back into the couch. Yes, he remembered perfectly well
what they had talked about. By the end of his rant in her office three
weeks before, Mulder was pleased that he could have someone to
blame. Teena Mulder was a convenient scapegoat. Fox could live with
that, very nicely, thank you very much. His mother didn't stop what was
happening when he was too young to figure it out for himself. She
divorced their father, ripping what family he had left in two. She had an
affair with that nicotine smelling bastard. Samantha was probably his
half-sister, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge it. Teena
certainly couldn't. One couldn't believe anything that came out of
Cancerman's mouth, so Mulder took the information with a grain of salt,
at the time.
"May I ask what you're thinking about, Fox," Stone interrupted his
thought process.
"Nothing," he said, shrugging and looking out through the floor to
ceiling window with lace curtains fluttering from a slight breeze. "Just if
the Yankees are going to win the series again, that's all."
Stone smiled. Her eyes twinkled, to give away the fact that she had seen
right through his charade. "Have you visited your mother recently?"
"No," he immediately replied.
After a pause to let him reflect on his quick response, she asked, "Why
not?"
"She has her life," he quickly said, then added for good measure, "I'm an
agent with the bureau that takes me out of town a lot. I'm busy."
"Those are excuses, Fox. They're not reasons."
"Touche," he said with a respectful nod of his head. He let the conscious
thought of 'besides, we don't need each other', to himself. Since his
mother had dismissed him with a slap after David and Amy Cassandra's
deaths, about his questioning of his birth father... she had only spouted
that he was bleeding and took off. From that moment, their familial
bond had loosened.
Stone leaned forward in her chair, uncrossing her legs, but keeping
them tightly clamped together at the knee, properly to the side as she
leaned her arm on the armrest to suggest, "Maybe you'd like to take an
alternate route in your therapy. It seems to me, that there are issues that
are simmering in your mind. Issues that you can't put to rest, but you're
too guarded to reveal, not even to me. Let me ask you something, Fox."
"That's what I pay you for," he smiled, clenched, leery of the good doctor
taking the road not yet taken, even though that was what he came to
disclose.
"What is it that you do for the FBI?"
That was the last thing he expected her to ask. After a moment of
stunned silence, he said, "I'm a field agent. I handle cases and solve
them... as best as they can be solved." He hadn't told her of the X Files,
that there was life out there, that there were truths that he believed and
had been his life's work. He had only told her he was an agent, and that
was all. He didn't need her to consider him a crackpot from the minute
he walked in at their first appointment. He needed to feel her out first,
find out how much she was willing to accept.
"You must see a lot of death in your line of work."
He nodded, sure there was, wondering what she was getting at.
"Do you feel that you handle death differently since your father died
while you were in his house? Because a family member, one who you
were close to, died while you were there, and you couldn't help him?"
Mulder stared at her, wondered when he told her about his father's
death. He immediately blurted out, "My father was murdered, Dr.
Stone."
"Oh," Julianna said, surprised. "I'm sorry, Fox... you told me he died of a
heart attack."
"I did?"
"On our first visit, I'm sure I have it written in your file."
"Oh."
"How was he murdered?"
"He was shot while taking an aspirin in the bathroom, by a..." Mulder
choked back the string of obscenities to describe Krycek to her, and said,
"an intruder."
"Interesting. And you were in the other room?"
"Yes."
"Do you think this has affected how you do your work, or deal with
death?"
"My work, yes," Mulder quickly said, his father's dealings with the
consortium and his death by Krycek's hand had very much affected his
search for the truth. He added, "Death? No. I had seen and investigated
death before my father was killed. But that's not what I think I should..."
He fell silent, so she quietly urged him, "You should what, Fox?"
"I came here specifically to... tell you something."
"And that is?"
"I need to talk about my sister."
She sat back in her chair and repositioned the legal pad and pen at
ready. "Yes. Your sister who was kidnaped when she was young..."
The word 'kidnaped' felt odd to him, as he had always said 'abducted by
aliens' all his life, except to Stone. He'd argued with Scully over those
words during their time as partners. Mulder remembered using the
word 'kidnaped' when only using general, quick descriptions of that
horrible night in his life in an earlier session. "While I was babysitting."
"You were?" Stone furiously wrote on the pad. Mulder felt bad about not
coming clean with her before, on many things, but he first had to see if
she would be judgmental as almost everyone else in his life had been,
except Scully. He could never tell Scully the secret that he had been
safe-guarding for so many years. She grew up on the same block as
Ozzie and Harriet, Scully loved her parents and siblings unconditionally.
How could she ever understand the guilt he'd been carrying around for
decades? How could Dana Katherine Scully understand that Fox William
Mulder just wanted Samantha gone?
Stone saw Mulder's face go from guarded intensity to panic in the
matter of seconds. She knew there was more to Samantha's
disappearance when she was eight years old than Fox had revealed, but
there were so many aspects of his life to explore in therapy, she figured
they'd get to it eventually, if only he kept coming back for more sessions.
Tears suddenly flew down his face. Stone watched as he came to a
realization. He roughly wiped the tears off his cheeks, then rubbed his
hands off on his pant legs. He straightened up in his seat, planted his
feet on the floor, looked ready to bolt as he had in previous sessions. She
tenderly told him, "Fox, just tell me what you're thinking. You're safe
here."
"I wanted her gone," Mulder's cries mixed with ironic laughter as he
hurriedly continued, "We didn't have a good relationship, Samantha and
I. I was the only child for 4 years. I loved it. I got everything, until she
showed up. I... I resented her. She was the cute little girl, suddenly
everything was about her. We argued all the time. I always had to give in
because I'd hear, 'Fox, she's your little sister.' We had a fight the night
she was taken..."
He looked up at Stone to see what her reaction was to what he had said,
words he had never spoken to anyone, not even himself. He didn't see
that she was shocked or disgusted, she wasn't writing anything down
either. He remained seated and continued, "I have different memories of
how she was abducted." His eyes focused on the pot of flowers on the
coffee table in front of him, then he quietly continued, "I don't even
know what the truth is anymore. I know I was alone in the house with
her. There was a loud noise. Samantha was crying for me to help her, but
I couldn't move. I fell on the floor and I watched it happen, but I can't
remember what exactly happened. All I know for sure is that she needed
me to help her and I didn't move."
He peered up at Stone to see what her reaction was. He only saw that
she was taking it in. Processing it. Hopefully, just to help him get
through it, and not to wonder if he was an animal, as he always had.
Mulder softly continued, "After it was over and Samantha was gone, I
hadn't run over to the Galbraith's yet to tell my mom and dad what
happened..." He closed his eyes and vividly pictured seeing the Magician
on TV, the broken window, the windswept living room, from the angle
of sitting on the floor. He could almost feel the shag carpeting on his
hands as they were clamped on the floor.
Julianna gently nodded for him to continue, that whatever he said, it
would be all right. He continued, relieved to get the sad truth off his
chest, "I was still on the floor and it was suddenly quiet after the loud
intrusion of whatever it was that took her. I was alone. A thought came
into my head... it was only for an instant, but I distinctly remember
having the conscious thought... She's gone! And I was happy."
Mulder looked for Stone's reaction again, and her facial expression was
precisely what her last name would imply, and repeated, "I was happy,"
then added, "for a moment. I don't know how I could have felt that. I
started to make up different versions of how it happened, and of how I
reacted to it over the years, I suppose, until I found a scenario I could live
with."
Mulder deeply sighed, then hated himself, for thinking it once, and for
bringing it up again. "I've spent my life looking for Samantha, needing to
find the truth of what I had allowed to happen, where she is, and why.
Just... why!"
There were people who's jobs it was were to find lost children, but he
himself, needed to search. Stone knew the answer, but she asked so he
could relieve himself of the burden that his twelve year old psyche had
permanently branded inside his soul. "Why have you devoted your life
to finding her, Fox?"
Mulder took a cleansing breath, cleared his head, and told her, "So I
don't have to blame myself anymore."
THE END
Lyrics used:
CODE OF SILENCE by BILLY JOEL
Everybody's got a million questions
Everybody wants to know the score
What you went through
It's something you
Should be over now
Everybody wants to hear the secrets
That you never told a soul before
And it's not that strange
Because it wouldn't change
what happened anyhow
But you swore to yourself a long time ago
**There were some things that people never needed to know**
Guess there's one that you keep
That you bury so deep
No one can tear it out
And you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
And you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say
You don't want to lose a friendship
There's nothing that you have to hide
And a little dirt
Couldn't hurt no one anyway
And you still have a rage inside you
That you carry with a certain pride
In the only part of the broken heart
That you could ever save
But you've been through it once
You know how it ends
You don't see the point
Of going through it again
And this ain't the place
And this ain't the time
And neither's any other day
So you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
So you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say
I know you well enough to tell you've got your reasons
That's not the kind of code you're inclined to break
Some things unknown are best left alone forever
And if a vow is what it takes
Haven't you paid for your mistakes
After the moment passes
And the impulse disappears
You can still hold back
Because you don't crack very easily
It's a time honored resolution
Because the danger is always near
It's with you now
But that ain't how it was supposed to be
And it's hard to believe after all these years
That it still gives you pain and it still brings tears
And you feel like a fool
Because it's part of your rules
You've got a memory
But you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
But you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say
By JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com
This fanfic was written for the second X Files Lyric Wheel. Thanks to
Arsenic for handing over lyrics that conjured up some good old
fashioned MulderAngst. I hope this piece isn't taken the wrong way or is
against canon. But then again, the night in question wasn't consistent
on the show either. :-) I claim no ownership of Mulder or his problems.
~~~~~
Mulder walked in for his appointed session. Julianna Stone's office
oozed feminine sophistication, from the chintz fabric on the furniture to
the fresh flowers that always filled the golden pot on the table in front of
the couch and in the vase that sat on the left, front edge of her
organized desk. When he had first seen her lair, he had the thought that
he didn't belong there, or anywhere near it. Not only for the reason one
would need to go into her office, but because it just oozed a type A
personality.
But, he had given it a chance. Mulder had survived eight 50 minute
sessions so far with the psychologist that he had found by sticking his
finger in the Yellow Pages. The first couple of sessions had started with
the usual, getting to know you talks between therapist and patient, with
Mulder wondering when she'd want him to start blaming his parents for
the life he had been given to lead. Joking had been his way of dealing
with trauma. He grew up with a dysfunctional family and he'd seen
horrible, despicable things in his line of work. None of it could get to him
if he was able to toss out a 'Mulderism'. Their eighth session had slowly
taken on a more personal tone, too close to what he had been covering
for all those years, so he had rescheduled the ninth one three times
before he realized he had to bare his soul to someone.
Julianna Stone was a study of contradictions, just look at her name. A
soft, earthy first name, along with the harsh, strict one at the end that
was a gift from her husband. The moniker fit her to a tee. Her office was
light and delicate, but her style of therapy was abrupt and very often, to
the point. It was getting harder and harder to lie to her, and Mulder
wondered if today would be the day that he would finally reveal his
guilt.
She had been wanting Mulder to get to the point of his problems during
each of their sessions, but he always held back. He didn't want her to
think badly of him. There were some things that people never needed to
know. That day, Mulder was ready to talk. He needed to get it out in the
open to someone, but not Scully, or the Gunmen, or Skinner, certainly
not his mother.
Since you could set Greenwich Mean Time by Stone's punctuality,
Mulder looked at the clock and knew that in exactly seven seconds, she
would be walking in through the side door. He sat up straight, adjusted
his tie, and opened his suit jacket and placed the flaps on each side of his
lap, crossed one ankle over the other knee, then and smiled as Dr. Stone
entered her office with a cheerful, "Good afternoon, Fox."
She sat in her mauve armchair across the coffee table from him and
clicked the top of the timer on a side table, with a slightly concealed flip
of her finger. So smooth, that woman. Mulder wondered if other
patients realized how slick she was, or if he had only picked out the
maneuver because it was imperative in his line of work to watch people.
She pleasantly smiled as she set the fresh legal pad on her lap and
flipped what seemed to be a solid gold pen through her fingers. "I'm
glad you made this appointment, Fox. What was so urgent in Santa
Monica, that you canceled our last one?"
"A magician was decapitated during his act," Mulder responded, then
added, "That wasn't part of the act."
"Ah," she sighed, hiding her surprise at how dispassionately he reported
that. "Well, let's get to the point."
"What is the point?"
"The point is why you skipped three scheduled appointments. And don't
tell me that it was work. That didn't seem to stop you before."
He inwardly smiled as she was right, yet again. He flipped his hand
through his hair, a gesture that he knew cried out frustration and said,
"We're going to deal with a painful subject, and..."
When his voice trailed off, she gently nudged him into telling her all
about it. She figured she knew where the problem laid, and started out
with, "We were discussing your mother during our last appointment. Do
you remember where we left off?"
Mulder sank back into the couch. Yes, he remembered perfectly well
what they had talked about. By the end of his rant in her office three
weeks before, Mulder was pleased that he could have someone to
blame. Teena Mulder was a convenient scapegoat. Fox could live with
that, very nicely, thank you very much. His mother didn't stop what was
happening when he was too young to figure it out for himself. She
divorced their father, ripping what family he had left in two. She had an
affair with that nicotine smelling bastard. Samantha was probably his
half-sister, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge it. Teena
certainly couldn't. One couldn't believe anything that came out of
Cancerman's mouth, so Mulder took the information with a grain of salt,
at the time.
"May I ask what you're thinking about, Fox," Stone interrupted his
thought process.
"Nothing," he said, shrugging and looking out through the floor to
ceiling window with lace curtains fluttering from a slight breeze. "Just if
the Yankees are going to win the series again, that's all."
Stone smiled. Her eyes twinkled, to give away the fact that she had seen
right through his charade. "Have you visited your mother recently?"
"No," he immediately replied.
After a pause to let him reflect on his quick response, she asked, "Why
not?"
"She has her life," he quickly said, then added for good measure, "I'm an
agent with the bureau that takes me out of town a lot. I'm busy."
"Those are excuses, Fox. They're not reasons."
"Touche," he said with a respectful nod of his head. He let the conscious
thought of 'besides, we don't need each other', to himself. Since his
mother had dismissed him with a slap after David and Amy Cassandra's
deaths, about his questioning of his birth father... she had only spouted
that he was bleeding and took off. From that moment, their familial
bond had loosened.
Stone leaned forward in her chair, uncrossing her legs, but keeping
them tightly clamped together at the knee, properly to the side as she
leaned her arm on the armrest to suggest, "Maybe you'd like to take an
alternate route in your therapy. It seems to me, that there are issues that
are simmering in your mind. Issues that you can't put to rest, but you're
too guarded to reveal, not even to me. Let me ask you something, Fox."
"That's what I pay you for," he smiled, clenched, leery of the good doctor
taking the road not yet taken, even though that was what he came to
disclose.
"What is it that you do for the FBI?"
That was the last thing he expected her to ask. After a moment of
stunned silence, he said, "I'm a field agent. I handle cases and solve
them... as best as they can be solved." He hadn't told her of the X Files,
that there was life out there, that there were truths that he believed and
had been his life's work. He had only told her he was an agent, and that
was all. He didn't need her to consider him a crackpot from the minute
he walked in at their first appointment. He needed to feel her out first,
find out how much she was willing to accept.
"You must see a lot of death in your line of work."
He nodded, sure there was, wondering what she was getting at.
"Do you feel that you handle death differently since your father died
while you were in his house? Because a family member, one who you
were close to, died while you were there, and you couldn't help him?"
Mulder stared at her, wondered when he told her about his father's
death. He immediately blurted out, "My father was murdered, Dr.
Stone."
"Oh," Julianna said, surprised. "I'm sorry, Fox... you told me he died of a
heart attack."
"I did?"
"On our first visit, I'm sure I have it written in your file."
"Oh."
"How was he murdered?"
"He was shot while taking an aspirin in the bathroom, by a..." Mulder
choked back the string of obscenities to describe Krycek to her, and said,
"an intruder."
"Interesting. And you were in the other room?"
"Yes."
"Do you think this has affected how you do your work, or deal with
death?"
"My work, yes," Mulder quickly said, his father's dealings with the
consortium and his death by Krycek's hand had very much affected his
search for the truth. He added, "Death? No. I had seen and investigated
death before my father was killed. But that's not what I think I should..."
He fell silent, so she quietly urged him, "You should what, Fox?"
"I came here specifically to... tell you something."
"And that is?"
"I need to talk about my sister."
She sat back in her chair and repositioned the legal pad and pen at
ready. "Yes. Your sister who was kidnaped when she was young..."
The word 'kidnaped' felt odd to him, as he had always said 'abducted by
aliens' all his life, except to Stone. He'd argued with Scully over those
words during their time as partners. Mulder remembered using the
word 'kidnaped' when only using general, quick descriptions of that
horrible night in his life in an earlier session. "While I was babysitting."
"You were?" Stone furiously wrote on the pad. Mulder felt bad about not
coming clean with her before, on many things, but he first had to see if
she would be judgmental as almost everyone else in his life had been,
except Scully. He could never tell Scully the secret that he had been
safe-guarding for so many years. She grew up on the same block as
Ozzie and Harriet, Scully loved her parents and siblings unconditionally.
How could she ever understand the guilt he'd been carrying around for
decades? How could Dana Katherine Scully understand that Fox William
Mulder just wanted Samantha gone?
Stone saw Mulder's face go from guarded intensity to panic in the
matter of seconds. She knew there was more to Samantha's
disappearance when she was eight years old than Fox had revealed, but
there were so many aspects of his life to explore in therapy, she figured
they'd get to it eventually, if only he kept coming back for more sessions.
Tears suddenly flew down his face. Stone watched as he came to a
realization. He roughly wiped the tears off his cheeks, then rubbed his
hands off on his pant legs. He straightened up in his seat, planted his
feet on the floor, looked ready to bolt as he had in previous sessions. She
tenderly told him, "Fox, just tell me what you're thinking. You're safe
here."
"I wanted her gone," Mulder's cries mixed with ironic laughter as he
hurriedly continued, "We didn't have a good relationship, Samantha and
I. I was the only child for 4 years. I loved it. I got everything, until she
showed up. I... I resented her. She was the cute little girl, suddenly
everything was about her. We argued all the time. I always had to give in
because I'd hear, 'Fox, she's your little sister.' We had a fight the night
she was taken..."
He looked up at Stone to see what her reaction was to what he had said,
words he had never spoken to anyone, not even himself. He didn't see
that she was shocked or disgusted, she wasn't writing anything down
either. He remained seated and continued, "I have different memories of
how she was abducted." His eyes focused on the pot of flowers on the
coffee table in front of him, then he quietly continued, "I don't even
know what the truth is anymore. I know I was alone in the house with
her. There was a loud noise. Samantha was crying for me to help her, but
I couldn't move. I fell on the floor and I watched it happen, but I can't
remember what exactly happened. All I know for sure is that she needed
me to help her and I didn't move."
He peered up at Stone to see what her reaction was. He only saw that
she was taking it in. Processing it. Hopefully, just to help him get
through it, and not to wonder if he was an animal, as he always had.
Mulder softly continued, "After it was over and Samantha was gone, I
hadn't run over to the Galbraith's yet to tell my mom and dad what
happened..." He closed his eyes and vividly pictured seeing the Magician
on TV, the broken window, the windswept living room, from the angle
of sitting on the floor. He could almost feel the shag carpeting on his
hands as they were clamped on the floor.
Julianna gently nodded for him to continue, that whatever he said, it
would be all right. He continued, relieved to get the sad truth off his
chest, "I was still on the floor and it was suddenly quiet after the loud
intrusion of whatever it was that took her. I was alone. A thought came
into my head... it was only for an instant, but I distinctly remember
having the conscious thought... She's gone! And I was happy."
Mulder looked for Stone's reaction again, and her facial expression was
precisely what her last name would imply, and repeated, "I was happy,"
then added, "for a moment. I don't know how I could have felt that. I
started to make up different versions of how it happened, and of how I
reacted to it over the years, I suppose, until I found a scenario I could live
with."
Mulder deeply sighed, then hated himself, for thinking it once, and for
bringing it up again. "I've spent my life looking for Samantha, needing to
find the truth of what I had allowed to happen, where she is, and why.
Just... why!"
There were people who's jobs it was were to find lost children, but he
himself, needed to search. Stone knew the answer, but she asked so he
could relieve himself of the burden that his twelve year old psyche had
permanently branded inside his soul. "Why have you devoted your life
to finding her, Fox?"
Mulder took a cleansing breath, cleared his head, and told her, "So I
don't have to blame myself anymore."
THE END
Lyrics used:
CODE OF SILENCE by BILLY JOEL
Everybody's got a million questions
Everybody wants to know the score
What you went through
It's something you
Should be over now
Everybody wants to hear the secrets
That you never told a soul before
And it's not that strange
Because it wouldn't change
what happened anyhow
But you swore to yourself a long time ago
**There were some things that people never needed to know**
Guess there's one that you keep
That you bury so deep
No one can tear it out
And you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
And you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say
You don't want to lose a friendship
There's nothing that you have to hide
And a little dirt
Couldn't hurt no one anyway
And you still have a rage inside you
That you carry with a certain pride
In the only part of the broken heart
That you could ever save
But you've been through it once
You know how it ends
You don't see the point
Of going through it again
And this ain't the place
And this ain't the time
And neither's any other day
So you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
So you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say
I know you well enough to tell you've got your reasons
That's not the kind of code you're inclined to break
Some things unknown are best left alone forever
And if a vow is what it takes
Haven't you paid for your mistakes
After the moment passes
And the impulse disappears
You can still hold back
Because you don't crack very easily
It's a time honored resolution
Because the danger is always near
It's with you now
But that ain't how it was supposed to be
And it's hard to believe after all these years
That it still gives you pain and it still brings tears
And you feel like a fool
Because it's part of your rules
You've got a memory
But you can't talk about it
Because you're following a code of silence
You're never gonna to lose the anger
You just deal with it a different way
But you can't talk about it
And isn't that a kind of madness
To be living by a code of silence
When you've really got a lot to say