It was in those times that I wished for no more than this. A chance to battle
against a solid opponent, as opposed to lies and sketchy plans. A chance to
be with you. To fight at your side. To love you.
The person I was when I wished for those things seems distant and blurry now,
just as the person I was before I became involved with the conspiracy seemed
distant and blurry then. With every year that passes I can look back and call
myself naive. And though I don't feel ignorant now, I'm sure one day I'll
look back and wonder how the hell I can think the way I'm thinking now. It
appears that I'm just a naive person by nature.
But was it so wrong for me to wish for power and the ability to change
things? Was it so wrong for me to want to fight for the safety of my planet,
so wrong for me to love you? And now is it so wrong for me to want to take
myself away from all this, to want to take us away from all this, to
someplace safe where we can heal or hearts and minds?
In theory, none of that is wrong. But I tend to oversimplify things. I
thought it would be so easy to change the conspiracy from behind the scenes.
I thought it would be so easy to fight the aliens. I thought it would be so
easy to love you. To be in love with you.
What I discovered was that things don't always work out like I plan. But that
doesn't stop me from dreaming.
These days all I can dream of is getting away from here. We may be too
important to spend a lot of time on the battlefields, but we see the carnage
just the same. The screams echo through my head. And the few times we've been
allowed to venture from the bunker are etched in my mind. Dead bodies, human
and alien, piled in the ruins of a once great city. Our once great monuments
have crumbled, and though I was never one for American pride, it makes me
want to cry. But the worst is the cloud of dust that perpetually hangs over
D.C., kicked up by the levelling of the city. It blocks out the sun. I miss
the sun, Mulder. I miss it.
I want to leave, to run somewhere where the war hasn't touched. I have a
cabin, in the wilds of Oregon. It was originally built during the Y2K scare,
far from civilization, but equipped with everything a paranoid yuppie could
ever want or need. I may not be a yuppie, but I was worried that we wouldn't
get the word out before the invasion started. So I bought a place to hide.
Win or lose, the aliens would never find the place. I could be free there. We
could be free there. Because whenever I imagine running there, you're with
me.
And I wish I could really ask you to come with me. We need to go, to get away
from here. This is no place for a relationship to grow and flourish. We only
had a month together before this all began, and we've never known a time in
each other's company when we weren't fighting the aliens in some way or
another.
I believe in our love. I believe it's strong. But I don't know if it's
stronger than this. Staying together has been a battle in itself. It seems as
though we keep building something together only to see it destroyed by some
accusation, some situation, some circumstance.
A war is a place of death. A place of violence and hate. I try to believe
that we can withstand it. But I'm worried. I can imagine this going on
longer, being stuck here for years, and in those images I see our love turn
to rust. That scares me more than anything out on the battlefield.
It would be so easy to run. I know a way we can get to the cabin while
avoiding the aliens. And no one here would begrudge us our leave. We've given
so much already, so many years of our lives. We may be useful strategists,
but we've taught others here what we know of the aliens. And Scully would
still be here to help them along.
We could go. One night I could kiss the back of your neck until you wake, and
ask you to come with me. I know you'd go if I asked.
But as much as I'd like to do so, I won't. There's work to be done here, and
while it may seem like running away will solve all our problems, the answer
is too simple. Perhaps I've lost some of my naiveté . Perhaps I know that if
we ran you'd secretly resent me for selfishly saving only us.
So I suffer through your silences and brooding, both occurring much more
frequently these days. I worry about our love dying a slow death. And in my
mind I go to the cabin and let the sun shine on my face. I go there with you.
It's all I can do.
Fin.
Where the Streets Have No Name
I want to run I want to feel sunlight on my face Where the streets have no name The city's aflood Where the streets have no name
Unspoken
by Araxdelan
Another day has passed, and we are no closer to victory. It seems as though
we've been fighting this war for years, but in reality, it's been no more
than a few months. But I'm not counting the years and years before the combat
began. Back when I fought in the shadows and you sought the secrets hidden
from you.
from The Joshua Tree (1987), by U2
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
that hold me inside
I want to reach out
and touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
I see the dustcloud disappear
Without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
And our love turns to rust
We're beaten down by the wind
Trampled in dust
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
Our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blow by the wind
Oh, and I see love
See our love turn to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind
Oh, when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
