BonnieGayle/Buttercup
e-mail: [email protected]
web site: http://members.tripod.com/xtrordinaryxfiles/index.html
8/30/99
Snake Bite: 1/1
Rating: PG for slight swearing
Classification: Angst, Vignette, UST (if you can call it that), Scully POV
Summary: Scully contemplates her tattoo and tries to figure out what the heck she was thinking when she got it.
Disclaimer: (Most people try to have fun with this, but personally I just skip it when I'm looking at other sites, so...) The X-Files and everything else related to it belong to Chris Carter, Fox, 1013, David, Gillian, various others, and the BIG BAD WOLVES...umm lawyers! I don't own them, I just borrow them for a while, but I'll try to return them in better shape then I got 'em:>) But if I did own them, not only would I be richer than I deserve to be, this UST mumbo-jumbo would be a bad memory!
The lyrics from Duncan Sheik's Nothing Special belong to Duncan Sheik and Co. and Atlantic Recording Company.
Spoilers: Major ones for Never Again. Redux/2 are briefly mentioned.
Feedback: Yes please. I'll beg if necessary:)
Snake Bite
You ain't nothing special
You're no more celestial than anyone else
As far as I can tell
Call it mythology; we see what we want to see....
And I am the snake who bites his own tail
~Duncan Shiek~Nothing Special
I want a desk and I'm *going* to get one. I tried to get one once before, but it was a pathetic attempt and received an equally pathetic brush off.
I simmered and stewed and finally after 5 years, long enough to deserve a measly desk, blew up. Okay, okay, I'll admit it. It was a bad case of PMS-a *very* bad case. It coincided with almost sleeping with a psycho and getting a tattoo.
I still don't know how to take the tattoo sometimes. I'll look into my full-length mirror when I'm nude. After a bath, or while I'm changing I'll twist as far as I can and stare at my lower back. Study it as if it holds the answers that I search for. Rub my hand over the snake inked onto my skin as if it's a sort of Braille that reads the answers like a reptilian book.
Sometimes I'll frown a, 'what the *hell* was I thinking?' frown and get mad at myself for losing my morals after 5 years.
Living my life hadn't bothered me up to that point. There was no reason for it to happen *then*. To make it even worse, it felt almost like I was cheating on Mulder. It feels like we're married sometimes. The ties of the X-Files bind tighter than that of marriage. When I think of it that way, the tattoo is a scarlet letter and I'm Hester Prynn. Forever marked as a cheater and fool. A fool for believing I could have a life outside of the X-Files. Of course not. What was I thinking? I was rewarded for that kind of thinking by a sociopath who's even more screwed up than Mulder. His tattoo was jealous of me for heaven's sake! I don't know how I did it, but I found the *one* man more messed up than Mulder. The *only* one on the face of this earth.
Other times I'll smile a triumphant, 'go Scully,' grin. Scully. Prim, proper, Starbuck Scully did *that*.
There were moments in my life where I could have chosen the path that was expected. The norm. I chose the other path. When I majored in medicine instead of teaching like dear old stifling Ahab wanted me to. When I joined the FBI. When I joined the X-Files. Those were moments when the wild, uncontrollable, Scully reared her head and forced acknowledgement. More often than not I listened. Were those paths the correct ones? Would my life be better if I had chosen the expected path? Would I be happier today? Those were the thoughts running through my head when I got the tattoo.
A snake biting it's own tail. Fitting, don't you think? I almost got a dog chasing it's own tail, but a dog's also cute and cuddly and that's not correct. No, a snake is dangerous. So were the choices that led me to where I am now. You have to remember, it was after I was abducted and diagnosed with cancer. I thought of myself as more than a little self-sabotaging right then. I led myself into that pain by the choices I made. *I*. *Me*. That's what makes me so mad about Mulder blaming himself for everything. It was the path that *I* chose that led me to the pain. It was *my* fault, just as it would be *me* that led myself to happiness. But happiness just isn't in the cards for dear old Scully, now is it?
Ah, I'm surprised how long it took me to get back to Mulder. It always does though. No matter how much I buck and rebel it's all about Mulder right? It's a circle where I run and run, but no matter how far and fast I run, I always end up facing Mulder. Always Mulder. Smiling or frowning or depressed or psychotic. Years of Mulder.
I don't even remember signing my name to a contract. Signing away my soul and my life and my future for the X-Files. It was a whim okay? It was supposed to prove to Ahab that I was strong and brave enough for him. It wasn't meant to take over my life. To drown me so slowly that I didn't notice my head was underwater, until the moment I tried to inhale, and all I got was a mouthful of water when I needed oxygen to survive.
Why don't I leave? A good question that deserves an equally good answer. An answer that sadly, I don't have. All I have is a pathetic wrinkled excuse. Wrinkled from years and years of being folded up in my pocket and carried everywhere. Unfolded when I need to remember the reason I stay, but then folded up and placed back into hiding. My dark, secret, private pocket that I let no one see, not even myself. You know that hidden pocket in trench coats that's right over your heart? That's where I hide it.
I love him. That's my reason/excuse. Is it enough? Is it? It hasn't been. Not lately. Not since my cancer and Emily and learning the cynical uncaringness of life. It's sink or swim and I'm drowning. And where's Mulder? Mulder alternates between pulling my head up above the water for a much needed gasp of breath and pushing me back down, holding my head under the water until my lungs are about to burst, and then back up. I end up a jack-in-the-box. Alternating between gasping and drowning so fast that my head spins and I'm left not caring. Not caring enough to drag myself up onto the shore and out of the water and never look back.
That's why I'm proud of the Scully that got the tattoo. She's brave and rebellious and strong. I would like to meet her sometime. No, I think I *need* to meet her before the both of us drown. I'd hate to think that that brave Scully would be content to go down with this one. No. I'd like to think that she would speak up if push came to shove. Force me to swim, to surface and breathe deep. Because I don't think I can do it on my own.
A snake biting it's own tail. Fitting, don't you think?
Major thank you's to: Bryn, thank you for being as outspoken as me in Creative Writing and trusting me to tape The X-Files for you. Maybe I'm not doing such a good job:p Can't wait to see what you bring me from Paris! Kacey, for making Algebra II okay and it's REALLY nice to not be the only besotted fool around. Especially with someone who's married! So Kacey, if David Duchovny and Spider1 from Powerman 5000 pulled up in front of us what would we do?:) Tiffany, thank you big fat bundles for being the most amazing friend. No, I don't just love you for your �clair cake...it's your caramels:) Mom and Dad, despite it all, the ride wouldn't be partly as fun if you weren't on it with me. Thank you for more than I can say! And last but definitely not least, Miss Buttercup, for being the best listener for somebody with a lot to say, and the best surrogate Baby around, not to mention, the best Miniature Schnauzer in the world. Also to those fizzy tablets and Enya for making tub time even more relaxing.