Title: Wild Things Part Two: Only For Your Thumb
Author: RocketMan

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. Thanks to Crash Test
Dummies for the lyric.

Wild Things Part Two: Only For Your Thumb

"Only for your thumb and forefinger supposed to show you're not a wild
beast."
--In The Days of The Caveman, by Crash Test Dummies

I feel the dizziness fall away and the reality set in.

The man is there, his smile like the Grinch that stole Christmas and his
eyes as cold as Scrooge. I shiver to feel his breath across my skin and
fingers to my throat. He grins again and rubs the crook of my arm; I am
too drugged to fight.

A needle comes and hurts and I feel a surge of toxin burn through my
blood and into my heart where it is pumped foolishly into my body. I try
to keep from breathing, to keep the panic down, but all I can think of
is the others who have died at this man's hands before me. The other
agents, the other women, the horrible frozen corpses deposited at the
doorsteps of their friends and relatives.

I can see Mulder opening his door on Christmas to my blind eyes.

I gag as the posion erupts in my stomach as chewing acid and eats me
away.

"Oh.....God...." he breathes, his breath mingling with mine.

I jerk my face from his and crawl to the very corner, determined to die
with my eyes shut, at least for Mulder's sake.

It comes harder, like eruptions of lava and I feel the sweat break and
flow down, making me slick and hot.

It's all heat and pain and icicles in my mouth and I can't feel my toes
anymore because it's paralyzing me; I'm dying here I know it.

I squeeze my eyes to block out everything, to keep some dignity, some
sanity for him, and feel the trembling start.

I'm shaking so violentally, I can't keep still, I can't control it, my
head is slamming into the floor over and over and this darkness, oh God,
thank you for the utter black oblivion.....sobbing.....

arms

Mulder

cool strength and cool words

flowing through me in tides

of compassion, agony coflicting with agony

cool water and cool lips

pressing my forehead

frantic fingers exploring

cool touch and cool hope

life ebbing

to and fro and away and near

dark

cold

dark

I wake to him and his eyes pleading for me to wake.

I feel his arms immediately and sink gratefully into their promise. He
smiles and puts his lips to my hands, my fingers wiping his tears.
I can't speak but only cling to him, discovering the safety again and
hoarding it for myself.

"Scully," he moans.

I shake my head, my voice will not work. I guess the drug paralyzed it.
"We got to you in time, Scully. You're going to be fine. You're going to
be okay."

I nod but my eyes don't.

"I won't let anyone near you, Scully. I swear I won't. He can't hurt you
anymore."

I nod but again my eyes are this woman's Benedict Arnold.

He pulls me up and holds to my waist, letting my head fall to his
shoulder in relief.

"He's dead Scully. I killed him."

His words are dead.

His voice is hurting and his eyes are scared.

I nod and my eyes heal him.

"I killed him Scully. It wasn't self defense." he whispers.

"Mul..r..." I groan.

I shake my head, my eyes filling and my fingers reaching for his face,
to either slap him or hold him I don't know.

"I couldn't stand his.....oh, Scully, we thought you were dead and he
was just sitting there, waiting for us with that Grinch grin and I lost
it. I lost it. The other agent with me told me . . . afterwards he came
up to me and said it was clearly self defense. That man is going to lie
for me Scully. I was wrong. I hurt him, killed him and . . . but he hurt
you, I thought he had killed you . . . he almost had."

I offer my arms and he comes into them, always the hurting man, the
suffering innocent. I cradle him and wish I could talk, that my vocal
cords would unfreeze.

But even choking out that small part of his name ripped apart my throat.

"I'm going to let him, Scully." he says quietly and will not look at me.
The animal instinct in him reacted to infringement on his territory, to
what he thought was the slaughter of one of his own, and he lashed out,
defended his name and mine.

Of course, that's justification only for lions and wild beasts.

And that's not human, right?

Maybe it is and it's all right, but then what is truth?

He sees this in my eyes and shakes his head.

"I have to Scully. I have to. Otherwise, it's all over." he says and
moves away from me, initiating the break away before he thinks I will.

But I wasn't going to pull away from him.

I hold on to his shirt and pull him back.

He frowns and his eyes darken into fountains of night.

I take his hand and run my finger along his thumb. It is one small thing
that separates us from animals. A thumb and a soul.

And Mulder's soul is beautiful, not animal.

His hand raises and his thumb strokes my chin briefly.

It brings a smile and I kiss his palm, surprising him and me.

Then he rises again, leaving in peacefulness and calm, knowing I am not
condemning him.

He told me before, in a similar hospital room, that he came to see if he
was making the wrong decision, knowing I'd talk him out of it.

I can't talk, but I still gave him my opinion.

Only this time, I'm not sure it was right.

What is our animal truth?

end
adios
RM