Alone 
By Xenith 
xenitha@yahoo.com 


Disclaimer: The X-files belong to Chris Carter
and 1013 Productions, not me. I’m only
borrowing the characters for
now. I’ll put them back when I’m done.
Rating: PG
Category: VA
Spoilers: The Sixth Extinction
Archive: Sure! Spookys, great.
Feedback: Love it! Love it!
E-Mail address: xenitha@yahoo.com
Discussion List: Yes!!! Yes!!!
Summary: Post ep for Sixth Extinction:
Mulder’s thoughts in a very dark place.


ALONE


I’m alone.  I’m not alone. A thousand voices
share my soul and I can’t...shut...them...out.
But I am alone.

Scully is gone, far away.  I could feel her
leaving me, going to Africa I think.  Hard to tell,
like listening to a radio station tuned wrong, all
that static.  She’s trying to find the answer.  I
know she’s gone to find help for me.

God, I wish she was here.

The light never goes away, day or night.  There
is no sleep.  There is no time.  There is nothing
but the noise, and the people who come in to
inject me with more drugs.  And they have no
hope for me.  They know I’m dying, and they
can’t stop it.  Oh, they don’t say it in words, but
they know it.  That doctor comes in, frustrated,
because he can’t find anything wrong with me,
but everything’s wrong. I’m so tired, so very
tired.  And the noise...the voices never stop.
Here is the worst, the tormented ones who
share this ward.

Sometimes the voices get so loud...so loud....I
hurl myself against these soft walls.  I hammer
my head against the floor.  Anything to stop the
voices, the noise, the noise.  The pain helps, a
little.  Then the noise comes back.  And the
doctor comes back and then I’m in the bed with
more drugs and the velcro straps.

Skinner comes here to see me.  He’s barely left
since I arrived.  I can feel the guilt and remorse
churning in him; he believes that somehow he
has done this to me.  He wants to help, but he’s
afraid of Krycek.  Hell, I want to tell him, I
understand.  I know.  It’s okay.

But I can’t talk.  Can barely move, think I could
write.  If I had paper.

I’d cry, if I could.

I scream, when I can.  It helps, too.  Sometimes
I can scream louder than the voices and drown
them out.  Sometimes.

And I can’t get away from them.  Can’t ever
ever ever get away.  The light and the voices,
they’re always here.

They used to torture prisoners like
this....constant light and noise and no sleep.
They aren’t doing this on purpose, I know.
They’re watching me, hoping to find an answer.
But they won’t.  This...this is alien....and they
don’t believe in aliens.  Nobody believes in
aliens but me.  And me?  I’m crazy.  I’m in the
locked ward.  And I can’t tell them, anyway.

And Scully’s gone.

Want to kill the noise.  Kill the sound.  Make it
go away....They won’t let me ‘hurt’ myself.
That’s the way they put it. But nothing they give
me helps, so why can’t I help myself?

Maybe one person who will know what to do.
Kritschgau?  Maybe.  If I can reach him.  If
someone can reach him.  Skinner will be back.
If he doesn’t bring Diana with him, maybe....

Diana.  Can’t think about her.  I didn’t know.
Scully, I didn’t know. I didn’t believe you, I’m
sorry.

I can write and I’m not tied down, not now.
Huddle in the corner, back to the camera.  Tear
some fabric off this nightgown, damn it, why do
they make these things so sturdy...tear, damn
it....good.  Write..write...no ink.  Yes, got ink.
Indelible, no less.   Bite finger, hard!  Pain feels
good, feel almost centered.  Write fast, before
they come.  Fast.

Skinner’s here, to see me.  I see his face,
creased with worry.  And remorse.  He feels
that he’s betrayed me to Krycek, to save his
own sorry ass.  And he wants to help, feels
helpless.  Don’t worry Skinner, you’ll get your
chance to help

Oh God, Skinner, please, please help me.



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