De-Livered, by Vered Gilad Friedman

Silly mild AU piece, based on the episode "Squeeze" with a tiny twist. (Read post notes at the end.)


Eugene Victor Tooms was having a rather crappy day. He was two livers short of his quota and he was feeling drained and tired and he desperately required his beauty sleep. He actually believed he noticed a tiny wrinkle forming on his face and he really didn't do wrinkles.

He sat down at his lair, licked a freshly torn strip of newspaper, squashed it and stuck it on the wall. He was grateful for the activity. It relaxed him and he sure did need relaxation, especially with that darned FBI agent glued to his back, Agent Fox Mulder, him and his pretty partner. If only she didn't come in that one plus one package. He most definitely had an eye for her. She was young and that meant prime liver. He smacked his lips at the thought, his eyes glazing as his mind conjured the vision of himself, plucking Agent Scully's succulent liver, crimson blood oozing from it as he sucked it in.

As for her partner, he probably also had a nice healthy organ, but that guy gave him the creeps. Too damn spooky for his taste, plus, he seemed to have him figured out. He barely got out of that prison cell because of him. He actually asked him about living back in 1933. The closest anybody had ever come to figuring him out was that police detective, back in the sixties, but he was a nobody, a paper-pusher. He couldn't do much. This Mulder, on the other hand… he was something else. He would have to stir clear of him if he were to get anywhere near his partner's juicy liver.

He licked another strip of paper, balled it, and tossed it at the wall. He decided he'd save Scully's liver for his last meal. She would be a treat. His tongue traced his lips as he imagined her tender, healthy liver, almost drooling with delight.

He shook his head. The craving was making him lose focus. He had to somehow get out and find himself another liver before he went crazy, but as he peeped out of the deserted building's window, he caught site of a red car parked nearby. Nobody parked near 66 Exeter at this time of night. The area was deserted so it had to be FBI surveillance; most likely it was Mulder himself, maybe even together with Scully. The only exits that weren't sealed shut in the condemned building lead to the main road. They'd even sealed all the vents, so he couldn't crawl out. There was the window from which he peered out of. It had also been sealed shut with planks of wood but he'd found a tiny crack in it. Still, it also faced the road. If he were to go out, it would have to be right up the FBI's nose. If this was the only option, it had to be it.

With new determination, he got up and boldly strode out of the building, staring directly into the lonely parked car. His eyes, accustomed to seeing in the dark, quickly caught site of the couple inside the car. Indeed, his nemesis and his partner were there, waiting for him. Mulder was wide awake, staring directly back at him, while his partner was fast asleep, her head drooping on his shoulder, totally unware of the events unfolding before her.

Tooms took in the surprise in Mulder's face. The agent blinked and spat out something from his mouth. He then turned to Scully and shook her gently. Eugene gave the drowsy female agent a lusty stare, licked his lips, turned around and strode down the road.

No sooner did he begin his stroll and he could hear the roar of a car's engine close behind him. He had to lose the agents if he were to succeed in his night hunt. He looked behind him. They were trailing him at a very slow pace, about a foot behind. He looked forward and then saw his opportunity. There was an opening in the fence belonging to a construction site. He hurriedly darted sideways and then sped to a hasty run, trying to get as much distance between himself and the FBI agents.

He heard the screeching sound of a car coming to an abrupt halt and then the thudding of slamming doors and he knew they were not far behind him. The darkness was his friend and he counted on it to keep him safe from his predators.

He hastened his pace and crossed the construction site. He had to get through another fence. With superb ease he climbed up, extended his hand to the top of the fence and hefted himself to the other side. He was now in a dark alley. Nobody bothered with lighting up the place. It was very quiet and it served as background for the yelps and pants of the two FBI agents who were now working on traversing the fence. They were quite relentless but so was he. He sped up and darted through the black alley, when he suddenly caught site of a huddled form sprawled on the pavement.

Tooms slowed down and took in the person lying on the ground. He couldn't help himself. His primal instincts took over and all he could see was sustenance. He usually took time choosing his victims, but the events of the last couple of days made a serious dent in his plans. He was desperate enough to grab any liver he could find.

He could hear rushing footsteps advancing on his location. He had to work fast. He crouched before the rugged homeless, grabbed him by his ankles, got up and dragged him along the alley until he found an entrance. It was another condemned building. He looked around. The building's ground was littered with more homeless; all of them seemed to be in a similar state to the one he'd dragged with him. They were just about comatose. He didn't have time to ponder their condition. He had to get on with the liver extraction. At least the victim he'd carried wasn't showing any signs of resistance and he welcomed the change. He could dig in without having to deal with his prey's screams. This meant the FBI agents won't be able to locate him. At least he hoped as much.

Without wasting any more precious time, he pulled up the man's shirt, then with great force, he tore through his skin and reached inside his abdominal cavity, he felt around and located the replenishing organ. It felt somewhat different than usual; more lumpy and leathery. He gave it a strong tug and yanked it out, then brought it close to his nose and gave it a sniff. The odor was also different, but the entire building reeked with pungent stench and he wasn't quite sure he could trust his sense of smell. Besides, he was in dire need of that liver and so, without further ado, he sunk his teeth into the raw organ and took a healthy bite. The liver's texture scraped his tongue and its flavor was funny, but once he felt it in his mouth, he couldn't bring himself to stop and he devoured it chunk after chunk until none remained.

He sagged to the ground beside the homeless' body, savoring the feeling of another liver flowing through his body, waiting for the brilliant sensation he always got when his body began to break down the organ, that feeling of renewed strength and energy, a once in thirty years catharsis. He waited for it to come. He knew it was just lurking behind the corner, waiting to take him over, but the feeling seemed to elude him and in its place he could sense something else. He felt strange. He didn't understand the feeling, only that his thoughts were all over the place and he couldn't set them straight. He felt his head sagging and he forced it to stay erect but it was so hard to obey.

He tried to get up and kept failing, constantly toppling over his own legs, and finally landing with his head right within the homeless' body's open wound. His tongue protruded through his lips and he licked the blood that marred his face, then tried getting up once again. Another failure.

Suddenly, two beams of light spread through the mangy bum lair. The beams were followed by footsteps and then the sound of a man calling his name at the top of his voice. "Tooms!"

Eugene knew that he should get up and run and he made another futile attempt which achieved the same result as his previous ones. He flopped back to the ground with a loud thud.

The agents were quickly on to him, blinding him with their flashlights and closing on his location. He was doomed.


"I have a strange feeling that this time you will end up in jail," Mulder said dispassionately as he scanned Eugene Tooms' blood-sodden form. He expected the man to stare at him with his usual defiance but he did no such thing and Mulder found it odd. He looked over at Scully who was crouched over the body of the homeless victim. "Scully?"

"Hmmm?" she responded but kept her eyes on the body.

"Did you notice that he's behaving differently?"

"Who?" She now turned to face him, her curiosity piqued by his comment.

"Tooms. I don't know; there's something… off about him, and it's not just the smell."

Scully got up and walked closer to Tooms' face as Mulder kept his flashlight pointed at him. Mulder followed her glove-clad finger as it searched for the carotid artery along Tooms' neck. She appeared to be taking his pulse but it seemed to take a lot longer than usual. Finally she looked up at him. "I don't officially have a baseline for him, but based on the pulse rate that he had during the lie detector test that he took, I think it's elevated."

Mulder had some basic medical knowledge, but he hadn't a clue where Scully was going with this. "And this means that…?"

Scully was now peering into his jaundiced eyes. It was strange, now that he came to think of it, his eyes usually went yellow when he was ready to jump on a victim, but right now they seemed to be stuck in that mode and they appeared sort of glazed and out of focus. He frowned and took a mental note for later. He continued following Scully with his eyes. She lowered her body close to Tooms' mouth and almost stuck her face into it. He resisted the urge to wince with revulsion.

Scully abruptly looked up at him, a funny expression on her face.

He offered her a loopy smirk. "What?"

She frowned. "Mulder, I don't know how to put this in any better term, but based on my cursory examination, I believe Eugene here is drunk."

At that, Eugene Victor Tooms, the terror of Baltimore, let out one of the most remarkable alcohol-induced belches of all times, its echo resonating impressively from the surrounding shack walls.

Mulder almost keeled over as tremors of laughter took over his body. He shook violently, unable to stop himself.

Scully gave him a crooked grin and it made him laugh even harder. "Mulder?"

He tried to get control over his reaction, but boy was it hard. Finally he spoke out through gasps and pants and stared at the shameful mess that used to be Eugene Victor Tooms. "I guess your mother never taught you not to eat from the floor, eh?"

THE END

Post Notes:
This is what happens when a phile watches a program dealing with a liver transplant and notes the differences between a healthy liver and a not so healthy one, and then goes…. "What if?"….