NEW: Cold
By JadedDana (jadeddana@netscape.net)
Rating: PG
Category: V, A
Spoilers: the movie
Keywords: Angst, black oil
Summary: What if the vaccine WMM gave Mulder
wasn't exactly what it seemed?
Feedback: please please please! Will reply!
Disclaimer: They all belong to Carter. Every
last one of them. So deal with it!
Cold
By JadedDana
Cold. I'm cold.
We left Antarctica behind several months ago,
but I still feel the cold imbedded in my bones.
The frostbite has healed, and it is unbearably
hot here in D.C. No matter how hot it is, I'll
still feel cold.
The cold isn't the only thing I feel inside
my bones. I tested my blood after we got back,
hoping to find traces of the vaccine he gave me.
I didn't find it. What I did find made me feel
almost as cold as the ice at the end of the
world. The virus was still there. Dormant.
I haven't told him about it. As far as he's
concerned, the vaccine cured me, making me safe
forever. I won't tell him that all it did was
force the ship to reject me, not kill the virus.
But I can feel it in me, floating inside my
blood, travelling throughout my body; through my
brain, in my lungs, inside my bones. It is
slowly becoming me. Maybe it is the cold I feel
inside my heart.
I know that he feels me distancing myself
from him a bit, but I also know he thinks it's
because we lost the X-Files, because of the
hallway. It reminds me painfully of the cancer;
me stepping back and him letting me because he
doesn't know how to stop me.
I sometimes wonder if Skinner suspects. He
never says anything, but then he never has; he
just stares at you with those penetrating eyes.
I sometimes think he can see it buried inside my
soul as I once thought he could see a tumor
buried between my eyes and a tiny microchip
buried in my skin.
It terrifies me more than the chip. More
than the cancer, too. It scares me so badly that
I wake up at night too frightened to even cry.
The chip I can remove; the cancer just weakens
me. This will steal my soul.
It silently seeps into my bones and someday,
after it possesses every part of me, will become
active, and I will become a hollow shell, good
for nothing but housing an alien creature bent on
destroying everything I have ever worked to
preserve. It terrifies me because there is
nothing I can do to stop it. I am simply waiting
for it to come out of its hiding place inside my
bones and take over my soul.
I have thought of trying to stop it by
killing myself. Suicide has always been
abhorrent to me, a terrible act of desperate
misunderstanding and blatant disregard for the
preciousness of life. I never thought the time
would come that I would contemplate it, not as a
release but as an act to protect those that I
care about. But when I think about it, that is a
stupid excuse created by myself. It would in no
way stop it, and its only purpose would be the
release that I denied I wanted.
I will continue to live, to fight it until
the darkness covers my eyes and makes me a vessel
for its terrible mission. I will give him
strength, because I know the words he spoke in
that hallway were true; he won't go on without
me. He can, but he doesn't realize it, and I
can't explain it to him.
I have been spending my nights working in
the lab, trying to understand this thing, to know
how it feeds, how it lives, and perhaps, how to
kill it. I WILL NOT let this thing win, if only
because I refuse to admit defeat. My eyes have
circles of dark bruised skin around them from
lack of sleep; but even if I weren't spending all
night in the lab I would never be able to sleep.
Lying in bed thinking about it only allows me to
feel it even more.
I stand at the window of the lab, looking
out on the sleeping city as I wait for the blood
sample to settle. There are so many lights, even
when all but a few lost souls are asleep. Maybe
I'm not the only one who feels something alien
inside their heart. Maybe together we can stop
it. Maybe we can even stop it before it becomes
too late to help. Maybe not. That's why I'm
here. To try. I turn back to the lab, to my
work.
It is still inside me. I shudder as I think
of it flowing through my blood to imbed itself in
my brain, seeping into my thoughts. I hope I
will be able to stop it. Hoping is all I can do.
I'm cold.
By JadedDana (jadeddana@netscape.net)
Rating: PG
Category: V, A
Spoilers: the movie
Keywords: Angst, black oil
Summary: What if the vaccine WMM gave Mulder
wasn't exactly what it seemed?
Feedback: please please please! Will reply!
Disclaimer: They all belong to Carter. Every
last one of them. So deal with it!
Cold
By JadedDana
Cold. I'm cold.
We left Antarctica behind several months ago,
but I still feel the cold imbedded in my bones.
The frostbite has healed, and it is unbearably
hot here in D.C. No matter how hot it is, I'll
still feel cold.
The cold isn't the only thing I feel inside
my bones. I tested my blood after we got back,
hoping to find traces of the vaccine he gave me.
I didn't find it. What I did find made me feel
almost as cold as the ice at the end of the
world. The virus was still there. Dormant.
I haven't told him about it. As far as he's
concerned, the vaccine cured me, making me safe
forever. I won't tell him that all it did was
force the ship to reject me, not kill the virus.
But I can feel it in me, floating inside my
blood, travelling throughout my body; through my
brain, in my lungs, inside my bones. It is
slowly becoming me. Maybe it is the cold I feel
inside my heart.
I know that he feels me distancing myself
from him a bit, but I also know he thinks it's
because we lost the X-Files, because of the
hallway. It reminds me painfully of the cancer;
me stepping back and him letting me because he
doesn't know how to stop me.
I sometimes wonder if Skinner suspects. He
never says anything, but then he never has; he
just stares at you with those penetrating eyes.
I sometimes think he can see it buried inside my
soul as I once thought he could see a tumor
buried between my eyes and a tiny microchip
buried in my skin.
It terrifies me more than the chip. More
than the cancer, too. It scares me so badly that
I wake up at night too frightened to even cry.
The chip I can remove; the cancer just weakens
me. This will steal my soul.
It silently seeps into my bones and someday,
after it possesses every part of me, will become
active, and I will become a hollow shell, good
for nothing but housing an alien creature bent on
destroying everything I have ever worked to
preserve. It terrifies me because there is
nothing I can do to stop it. I am simply waiting
for it to come out of its hiding place inside my
bones and take over my soul.
I have thought of trying to stop it by
killing myself. Suicide has always been
abhorrent to me, a terrible act of desperate
misunderstanding and blatant disregard for the
preciousness of life. I never thought the time
would come that I would contemplate it, not as a
release but as an act to protect those that I
care about. But when I think about it, that is a
stupid excuse created by myself. It would in no
way stop it, and its only purpose would be the
release that I denied I wanted.
I will continue to live, to fight it until
the darkness covers my eyes and makes me a vessel
for its terrible mission. I will give him
strength, because I know the words he spoke in
that hallway were true; he won't go on without
me. He can, but he doesn't realize it, and I
can't explain it to him.
I have been spending my nights working in
the lab, trying to understand this thing, to know
how it feeds, how it lives, and perhaps, how to
kill it. I WILL NOT let this thing win, if only
because I refuse to admit defeat. My eyes have
circles of dark bruised skin around them from
lack of sleep; but even if I weren't spending all
night in the lab I would never be able to sleep.
Lying in bed thinking about it only allows me to
feel it even more.
I stand at the window of the lab, looking
out on the sleeping city as I wait for the blood
sample to settle. There are so many lights, even
when all but a few lost souls are asleep. Maybe
I'm not the only one who feels something alien
inside their heart. Maybe together we can stop
it. Maybe we can even stop it before it becomes
too late to help. Maybe not. That's why I'm
here. To try. I turn back to the lab, to my
work.
It is still inside me. I shudder as I think
of it flowing through my blood to imbed itself in
my brain, seeping into my thoughts. I hope I
will be able to stop it. Hoping is all I can do.
I'm cold.