AUTHOR:Ary GH RATING:NC-17 CATEGORY: SRA
For spoilers, keywords, summary, disclaimers and author's notes, please check Part 1
WARNING:Violence, graphic verbal and physical abuse, plenty of foul language. We're dealing with a seriously disturbed psychopath in this section.
ALLEYS BEHIND THE STARDUST AUGUST 10 11:15 P.M.
I know I shouldn't have claimed it was self-defence.
According to the regulations, I should have waited at least 30 seconds before shooting, and I had to give the suspect a warning shot. Fuck the regulations.
It wasn't self-defence, either. But he was hurting Dana Scully. In my books, that's a federal offence. One punishable by death.
In other words, I shot the bastard without warning. But I did everyone involved a favour and claimed it was self-defence. There are only two people to say it wasn't so, and one of them is dead. Scully is so grateful that it is over that she doesn't give a damn about my statement. For all she cares, I gave the guy the whole Miranda before I even pulled out my gun.
It's all right by me. Really. Except it isn't over. It really is far from over.
I'm driving her home once this whole business of statements is finished. And then we're going to have the nice little chat we should have had by now.
And Dana Katherine Scully is going to have to answer to me this time around. She'd better not try to run away, cause I'm not going to let her go. No this time. Not ever.
Never again.
I stumbled out of the Stardust, my gun in my hand, my heart beating wildly. I looked right and left, trying to ascertain which way could the killer have gone.
I was scared shitless. This guy wasn't merciful. On the contrary, he was quite vicious. And fast. I figured I had half and hour, forty-five minutes tops, to find Scully and nail the bastard. I didn't want to think of what would happen if I was late.
Following instinct rather than logic, I chose to go to the left, keeping my back to the wall. I kept glancing over my shoulder hoping to see any other agents. I kicked myself mentally for not bringing my cell phone, but I didn't expect I would need it.
Some FBI Agent you make
What did you expect? He wasn't using his head
You bet he was. Except he was using the wrong head.
Yeah ... party time!
Shut the fuck up!
Gross. I needed to get a grip if I wanted to help Scully.
Ha. I couldn't even get a grip on the tug-o-war that was
going inside my head. Pathetic. Really pathetic.
The layout behind the Stardust reminded me of a labyrinth.
The back street gave way to 10, maybe 15, alleys both
left and right. I noticed that some of them led into
another alley. My mind was racing. There was no way I
was going to be able to search the whole damn place in
less than half an hour.
The only thing that gave me hope was his MO. He had always killed his victim in a ratio of, approximately, three blocks from where he had taken them. Therefore, he had to be around here, somewhere. He HAD to.
A flash of red caught my eye at the entrance of another alley to my left. It was a piece of clothing. I recognised it almost immediately. In my hands I was holding the front pocket of Scully's robe.
Glancing back one last time I went into the alley. No
backup for me this time. Perhaps it would be for the best.
If I was late I didn't want witnesses. If I had failed
Scully for the last time, I'd shoot the bastard and then
I'd shoot myself.
Coward Martyr Wimp Weakling What did you expect?
Funny how this last voices reminded me of my dad ...
Who cares? As much as I seemed to enjoy my guilt-trips,
I could never live with this specific one. I could never
go on living without her, period.
When I joined the FBI I thought nothing would hurt me more than loosing my sister. Now I know I was wrong. As much as Sam's disappearance created a havoc in my life, nothing was more devastating than loosing Scully. Not once, but twice. Duane Barry and cancer. And now a third time.
There was only a certain amount of grief and heartache a
man could bear. I've met my quota for this and two other
lifetimes. I don't think I could resist another blow.
And yet ...
I'll have to. Scully doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't love me. And I'll have to learn to live with that. That is, if I get to live at all after this.
I hear a voice coming from the second alley and my body tenses. I also hear noises and a muffled groan. I'd recognise that sound anywhere. It's a sound that breaks my heart over and over again.
I had found Scully. And she was alive.
Carefully approaching the entrance of this second alley, I begin making out the words I'm hearing.
"Sarah, Sarah, what am I going to do with you? You keep
running away every time I find you, and every time I find
you again. Won't you ever learn? Can't you understand?
There's nowhere to go. You're mine"
The voice is strained, yet calm. It reminds me of an adult scolding a little child that's misbehaved badly.
I peer into the alley. A couple of boxes at the entrance give me some nice coverage, without blocking my view entirely. And abandoned car is lying some ten feet from me. Huddled against it is Scully. She's gagged and handcuffed and her right eye is rapidly swelling.
I feel anger boiling up inside me. The bastard hit her, harmed her. And then he comes into view. Although he's a couple of inches shorter than me, he seems to tower over her. I'm about to open my mouth to give my FBI speech when I notice the switchblade in his left hand.
He's too close to Scully. He might try to attack her. Make that a will. He will attack her if he feels he's treathened. And he could very well fatally wound her before I put a bullet or two trough him. I couldn't risk it.
"Oh, Sarah. Why do you do this? Isn't my love for you enough? Why do you keep running away from me?", his voice is now wounded, hurt. He's stroking Scully's hair ever so gently, a loving gesture.
But then he turns violent. He grabs her shoulder and smashes her against the car. Scully winces and I cringe inside. He's too close to her, I can't risk taking a shot at him now ...
"Slut! Whore! Two-face lying bitch! I gave you everything I had and then some more, and what do I get back for it? Nothing! Absofuckinglutely nothing! And why? Because I married a whore! A slut who's got pussy for brains!"
He was getting mad now. I could see him digging his fingers into Scully's shoulders and screaming right at her face. I could try and shoot him on the forehead, but my present angle is all wrong. To get a clean shot I'll need to get out from behind these boxes, making my presence known to him.
But the way he was holding the hunting knife made me hesitate. It was too close to her neck. Even if it was the perfect shot he could slash her while dropping dead.
On the other hand, he was so worked up by now that he was going to attack her very soon. I had to make up my mind. Fast.
"How could you? Why do you do it? Why do you have to leave our house and our children every chance you get to go looking for a man? Why do you need to do it?"
He was close to crying now. As weird as it may sound, I felt sorry for him. Whomever this Sarah was, or had been, she had messed him up real bad. Bad enough to turn him into a raving psycho. I wonder what had happened to the kids. I shuddered. Maybe I didn't want to know, after all.
" I tried to be a good husband. But no, that wasn't enough for
you. You can't live without fucking, can you? You need to have
some guy's dick crammed up inside you to be happy, don't you?
What do you do to the guys you pick up, huh? Jerk them off?
Suck them until they come? Fuck their brains out? Huh, huh?
Do they eat your pussy? Do you let them fuck you like an
animal? Is that what you want? Is that what you need? Huh?
Answer me godammit! Tell me why you need to be such a slut!"
He turned around, dragging Scully with him. He slammed her
against the wall on the other side. I couldn't see them now.
The time had come for me to make my move. I slowly began
making my way along the boxes until I reached the corner. I
froze when I saw he had the blade's point under her chin.
"And what was tonight about? You like strutting in front of those guys like a bitch in heat, don't you? And you were ready to go out, undressed as you are, into the street. You were hoping one of them would grab you, right? You were hoping one of them would rape you, right? That's one of your sick fantasies, isn't it? You're a pervert!"
He jammed his hand between Scully's thighs. I almost pulled the trigger then.
"See? See? You're all wet, you fucking whore! It was that guy, right? The one standing outside the door, wasn't it? Just don't stare at me, you stupid bitch, answer me!"
He slid the blade up and sliced Scully's gag. For the first time, I looked at her face. Her eyes were wide with fear, her chin was trembling, her breath was ragged and her cheeks were tinted with a slight blush. My heart ached for her.
"You're wet for him, aren't you?" Scully stared at him in silence and the guy shake her up slightly, " Don't mess with me, and answer the question. You're wet for him, aren't you?"
Scully swallowed hard, "Yes"
"You want him bad, don't you?"
"Yes"
" What were you going to let him do to you?"
"I-I don't k-know ..."
"Like hell you don't, you cunning bitch! You were going to let him take you on top of the dressing table, then fuck you from behind while you grabbed unto the chair, weren't you?"
Scully's voice was flat, defeated ... "Yes"
The man fell silent for a minute, staring a t Scully. When he spoke again his voice was so calm and detached that I knew he had reached his breaking point.
"That's too bad, Sarah, because you'll never fuck anyone else again"
"Federal Agent, drop your weapon!"
Startled, he spun around. Scully fell to the floor, trying to get out of his reach.
And I pulled the trigger. Twice.
I sit in my car while I wait for the EMT's to finish checking up on Scully. I try to convince myself that what I had done back in the alley was justifiable, that it was part of the job.
After all, I was a trained federal agent, with a permit to carry, and use, a gun. And it wasn't like I've never shoot anyone before. I have, plenty of times. I even have killed people. But I had never murdered someone.
Until today. Today I murdered James O'Rourke in cold blood.
He was responsible for 14 deaths. True. He was a heartless murderer. True. He was about to murder again, this time my partner and fellow FBI agent. True. Some would say I did what I had to do and good riddance. True. All that is just fine and right.
What ain't fine and right is that I was actually glad that I shot the bastard. It also ain't fine and right that I have no remorse, whatsoever. James O'Rourke will never be a part of my nightmares ... there's no guilt attached to his name. Or any other emotion, for that matter.
The names in my nightmares have different faces ... Duane
Barry, Donnie Pfaster, Robert Modell, Linda Bowman, Eugene
Tooms, Ed Jersey, Eddie Van Blundht. Different monsters,
different demons, different madness. The only thing they'll
ever have in common is that they tried to hurt Scully in
one way or another. And sometimes I couldn't do anything
about it.
No tonight. That's why James O'Rourke won't plague my
dreams. He's a monster, but not my personal monster. If
I had to choose one demon to portray this specific nightmare,
it would be me.
And that thought is enough to make me shudder.
I have become the monster. I have become the demon. I'll plague my own nightmares for years on end. And perhaps I'll even do some special appearances in Scully's bad dreams.
Shit.
Scully.
I've been so wrapped up in my own self-pity that I forgot to check on her.
I look up. She's still sitting next to the ambulance, but
the EMT is gone. She's now talking with Stan Carlbadier.
She must have sensed my gaze on her, cause she looks at me.
Correction. She looks through me.
And it gives me the creeps.
I could have sworn there was nothing behind her eyes. I could feel a certain coldness in her look, as if her soul were made of stone.
But... it couldn't happen, could it? I mean, this is Scully we're talking about here, isn't it? She'll never turn cold on me, would she? Well? Would she?
And then it hits me. She's perfectly capable of leaving me outside in a frozen hell. So capable in fact, that I got this distinct rotten feeling in my gut that that is exactly what she plans to do.
Funny. I've always thought that our partnership, our friendship, was beyond everything now. After all we've been through, I thought we've reach our own level of invincibility.
Guess I was wrong.
There was a limit, after all.
One look at our innerselves, at our true feelings, at our weaknesses, and five years of our lives blow up into pieces.
I was right. This time, I had been the monster. I've achieved what not even They have been able to do. They had been able to separate us, but they've never broken us apart. Which is exactly what I have done.
It's over. Whatever it was between us, it is there not more. Scully is gone, and she's not coming back. And this time I did it myself.
I don't think I'll be able to live with that. I really don't think I'll be able to keep on living, at all.
But I'm not worried. Not anymore.
You see, I have this backup plan.
After dropping Scully at her place, I plan to drive straight to mine and write a few letters.
And then I plan to have a nice little chat with a 9mm friend of mine whose name is Smith & Wesson.
A chat long overdue.
END RUBY (5/8)