Days Of The New/"Touch Peel and Stand"
It's not like I never died before—hell, nothing else has happened to me
for years. And there's something sexy about death, when sex is
unattainable...
Was I sublimating? Was Mulder?... Tell me about it, and him a psych major.
No, it's not been denial for a long time... He's just too smart for that,
or to believe that about me. No. Not denial.
He just didn't like me. And the poor fucker really made it impossible for
himself you know, only ever wanting the two people he'd decided in his
principled widdle head were too good —that's her—or too dirty—that's
me—for the likes of him.
Poor fucking Mulder.
Goddamned prudish anal New England neo-Puritan son-of-a-bitch.
There, Alexei Andreijevich, feel better now? Is oo venting? So everybody's
not a professional operative. No seduction training for Fox Mulder. But what
a pity. What that man could be, if he just lost a few inhibitions... It's a
low self-esteem issue, with him.
Damn Bill Mulder to hell... The old guy really lost control, he really
messed Mulder up. It took me years to understand that the killing wasn't to
prevent him talking to Mulder that day. It was about giving Mulder someone
to hate instead of his dad, a fetch, a sin eater. A guardian devil. Worked,
too. Kept him from eating his gun. He took it out on me instead. All
according to plan.
So then I get to stick my finger in the dyke all these years, just waiting
for Mulder to go nuts or get dead or something... Getting in the way of his
more obvious psychotic episodes, whipping boy, scapegoat, invertebrate
scumsucker, sweet nothings, banks of payphones, forest floor surgery and
all. "Keep him sane, Alex. Keep him alive."
He's already got somebody to love. So give him someone to hate, to divert
some of that raging, edge-laden, bloodthirsty self-hatred. Give him Alex.
And, oh, by the way, Alexei? Don't feel a thing, would you? That's an
order. Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Could I please have a cigarette? Sir.
Bed of roses. Aiiieeee.
It doesn't help that guns make me horny.
And even when I pushed the old fuck down the stairs, Mulder didn't get with
the program. What is it with him and me—I'm too scary to profile? At
least, it was my agenda after that. I wish he'd noticed...
Well, he's in love with Scully.
... Then he's dead, and she's pregnant, and of course Skinner buys it when I
threaten palm-pilot torture and baby-killing in the hospital, he doesn't
even think , I'm just ratbastard@blackmail.com... It's a Russian
vaccine, bonehead. What, you really think someone would wake up from
alien-incubation livedeath just because someone else unplugged their life
support? Uh-uh.
But now Mulder... Well, Mulder was always halfway psychic, is what I think.
That's how come he had the incredible solve rate, eerily accurate profiling
ability, and translogic quantum leaps...
But he reads minds now. I swear. The next time we meet he looks at me real
intense and... well... funny. We're sitting in Skinner's office, and just
before he rushes out he drills me with those
heartbreak-gold-sun-through-the-leaves eyes of his and says, "take care of
her" like he knows .
And I'm fucking bleeding to death inside.
Because he's gonna be all right now. He and Scully finally got their shit
together. And that means I'm done. I've won. I'm lost.
A parking garage for fuck's sake. How sordid can you get. Ah well.
A lot of incoherent blabber for Baldy's benefit, because that's what he
expects, but really it's all carefully tailored mindfucking. I'm pounding
on the bastard's panic buttons, threatening Mulder... I've got it all under
control, I don't feel a thing. Except horny, because this is the real thing,
this is it —
Then fucking Mulder has to rip me wide open, does he think he's doing me a
favor , calling me "Alex", telling me he knows... "—like you killed my
father"... That's right, Mulder. You don't need an evil twin anymore now,
you don't need me, don't need me now and I almost fucking lose it right
there, I almost dissolve in front of Mulder and God and everybody, and I
won't fucking cry, I won't, come the fuck on, Skinner, you asshole...
Fucking please. Before I break.
There.
One bullet, two bullet, three and I'm doing the Watusi on the dirty
concrete, warm floodtide tearlike finally all-out for-real bleeding to
death, do you see now Mulder? Do you see because it's all there and really
it's not like I haven't died before because I have died every day and now
oh now, I can stop now. Touch, peel, and stand... Yeah...
And I'm taking all your hatred with me down the drain Mulder, you can relax
now and quit hurting, you can love yourself and anybody else you damn well
please because ow
four
"i gotcha"
Been There, Done That... Bought the Farm
by Wildy
Since I know how low to go
I won't let it show
Won't you touch me touch me
I won't let it go
