Subject: Obsession
Author: Val Adams
E-mail: valerian3@earthlink.net or valsamezzo@yahoo.com
Written for the 12th Lyric Wheel: The Horrible Wheel
Keywords: AU, implied character death
Beta: The fabulous Josan
Rating: PG, no sex this time
Thanks to Pollyanna for the lyrics!

****************
Obsession
****************

The old farmhouse is still but not really silent. Rodents scuttle in
the attic and some little animal rustles in its nest under the eaves.
The kerosene lamp on the floor beside my chair hisses softly and casts
shadows down the darkened stairwell. It's a little eerie, but I'm
comforted by the constant murmuring from the other side of the bedroom
door.

Outside, the wind has picked up and now the whole house seems to sway
a little with each gust, creaking and groaning. Funny, I didn't notice
the force of the wind until a minute ago. Now it's obvious to me that
a storm is coming this way. A hard rain will probably fall sometime
tomorrow.

What is it about being in an old house at night that always gives me
the creeps? This is even my own house. It was actually home until Mom
died a few years back. I can't bring myself to sell the place, even
though I'll never live here. It used to be warm and full of familiar
sounds and smells, but now it's just a musty old place, full of heavy,
draped furniture and peeling wallpaper. It doesn't look anything like
I remember anymore.

We've been here three days and this is the third night.  I've been
living on a bottle of Gatorade I had in my gym bag and a package of
peanut butter crackers I found in my car. They said he wouldn't be
hungry until after.

Just a few more hours.  Christ, I hope so. I'm tired and I hate
waiting. I've been waiting for one thing or another for years.

I stand and look over the banister rail to the hall below, watching
and listening. I stretch and yawn. I've been sitting outside his door
in an armchair I dragged up the stairs from the living room. But it's
a little too comfortable and I'm trying like hell not to doze off. I
can't risk another night like last night. Last night I slept.

I slept, and someone got in -- in spite of all my precautions.

When we first arrived here, after I got him settled in an upstairs
room, I secured this area as well as I could. I ripped up the carpets
in the living room and front hall so that every unwary footstep would
make the bare floorboards creak. I shoved the living room furniture
against the walls so there'd be nothing for an intruder to hide behind
if he tried to make his way up here undetected. I shut and locked all
the interior doors. I stuffed and blocked both chimneys. The shutters
were already nailed closed, so I didn't worry overmuch about the
windows. My focus has been the living room and front hall, the
staircase, and the gallery in front of his room. Nothing must
interfere. No one must reach him. Right. So I go to sleep like a
rookie and...

Oh.  Now that I think about it, I guess I'm noticing the noises of the
house because my prisoner has stopped screaming for me to come back
downstairs. Maybe that wound was worse than I thought. Ah, well.

I guess I should make the rounds again. I check my weapon making
certain that I have a full clip and a round in the chamber. I click
the safety off and ease down the stairs. This feels familiar: recon
patrols in 'Nam made me feel this way. Exposed, edgy -- especially
after last night's intrusion. That thought reminds me again to check
on my prisoner.

She stopped screaming at me a couple of hours ago, so I'm not
surprised to find her sagging listlessly against the headboard.  She
startled me out of my little nap last night by breaking through the
kitchen door. My aim was off and I only wounded her. The wound isn't
too bad, and with the proper care I'm sure it would not be fatal.

But I'm not giving her the proper care and she's lost a lot of blood.
It's beginning to soak my mother's mattress.

While I'm checking to make sure her wrists are still tightly cuffed to
the headboard, her eyes slit open. She looks a bit feverish. Her voice
is raspy but stronger than I expected as she asks for water. I just
shake my head and turn toward the door.

"Walter," she says in a ruined voice. All that screaming, I guess.
"Walter...  Why...?"

I turn back and stare at her. She's always been beautiful to me, and I
love her blue eyes even now. But sometimes she's on the wrong side.
Like last night.

I know she found us on her own. If that partner of hers knew where she
was, he'd already be breaking the door down. She's alone, she's lost,
and she knows it. It won't hurt for me to talk to her.

"You shouldn't have come, Dana. You shouldn't have tried to stop
this."

"Walter... please. You have to... you have to know what they're doing
to him. Don't you? Don't you know what's happening in that room
upstairs?"

"Of course I do." 

"Then why are you... oh, God... I trusted you! I thought you.... But
you loved Mulder! You loved him. I know you did! Don't you know what
this would do to him?"

"Of course I do."

She's fading now, and I know she'll be unconscious soon. Maybe she
won't wake this time. She tries to speak again, but I think she just
gives up. The tears are falling down her face now and I brush one away
with my thumb.

"Dana. Mulder told me this would happen when it was time for us to
know the answers. He wanted it to happen this way. I'm doing this
because he told me to."

"No... Walter. This... can't be... Mulder is dead! Please!"

"They're giving him the answers, Dana. All the answers. Everything
Mulder wanted to know, they're giving to *him* right now. Everything.
Can you imagine what Mulder would have done with all the answers? This
way, we'll get to find out."

"He'll be a monster... just like Spender... Walter, can't you see
that?"

I lean closer, kiss her forehead and whisper, "He'll be able to tell
us what to do. And he'll be able to tell me who killed Mulder and why.
I have to know, Dana. I deserve to know."

She's weeping silently now, so I leave her to it and head back up the
stairs to stand watch outside his door.

Just a few more hours, and all the implanting will be finished. The
others will go back where they came from and then Mulder -- twelve
year old *William* Mulder -- and I will leave this place. We'll be
gone before the storm hits, before the rain starts falling.

He'll share Mulder's truth with me. Together we'll tell it and think
it and speak it and breathe it. I'll look at him and see my Mulder,
complete and whole and alive.

And this time, I won't lose him. I won't fail him. I'll be beside him
every step of the way.

***************
The End
***************

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
by Bob Dylan

Oh where have you been, my blue eyed son?
Where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
Stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
Been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

And what did you see, my blue eyed son?
What did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a new-born baby with wild wolves around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue eyed son?
What did you hear, my darling young one
I heard the sound of thunder that roared out a warning
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a blazin'
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Oh who you did meet, my blue eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
Another man who was wounded with hatred
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Oh what'll you do now, my blue eyed son?
What'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
Walk throught the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioners face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the colour, and none is the number
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountains so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand in the ocean until I start sinking
But I'll know my song well before I start singing
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall