From: Date sent: Wed, 8 Jul 1998 16:13:31 EDT Subject: "And You Risk a Crusade"- fanfic by 25, Saelen Title: And You Risk a Crusade Author: 25, Saelen Keywords: (Are these necessary with search gone?) Resistance, Conspiracy Rating: PG for violence, or themes. Something of the sort. Archive: As you wish, as long as it's my fic, my whole fic and nothing but my fic (with the exception of any Misting that might be done of this) Disclaimer: Alex Krycek and Fox Mulder belong to Carter, 1013, and FOX. I'm not contesting their ownership due to the beautiful kiss they wrote for these characters. About Melissa Scully - I'll let you have her, but you've got to be more careful with your characters, Chris! After you killed her like that, you couln't REALLY blame meif I took her away! Summary: Melissa Scully's quest is not to risk a crusade, but to ensure it. The ends must justify the means. E-mail to author: ***Saelen25@hotmail.com*** Give your comments a safe and happy home! __________________________________________________________________ AND YOU RISK A CRUSADE by Saelen 25 I'm feeling the same way now that I did when my assignment was first concocted. I feel ill, physically, my primitive way of trying to settle mental turmoil. I've closed off my intuitive abilities. Mulder is psychically capable himself, and that defense cannot be opened. He can't protect himself. And it helps to quiet that part of my mind, that I can remind myself *why* - and not *what* I'm going to do. This is a feeling that has still changed little since that morning in Novosibirsk. I've felt it, time and again. Every morning as I trained on the shooting range. On the twelve hour flight, as Alex leaned on my shoulder and slept through the Star Wars trilogy. I felt this way most severely when I woke at midnight in the clean and frill-free Alexandria motel. Tried to stand, only to fall to my knees. I lay on the floor, shaking, until dawn. I'm relieved, in my soul, that I remain sickened by this necessity. I feel human. I've got pure intentions that are, nonetheless, covered in blood. How noble. How tragic. I'm killing this man to turn his work into a crusade. I am working to fill Dana with vengeance and the will to carry out her necessary role. She already hates these men. Soon she will become one who understands them - and hates them even more. She may be the one to kill the smoking man, the man whose words are to blame for the path of our resistance. "Kill Mulder and you risk turning one man's quest into a crusade." This is our goal. Out-and-out warfare for truth. Resist versus Serve. Short-term losses for long-term good. What an inspirational and shocking story. Maybe the survivors of our world's six billion people will be proud. I am not. I feel sickened and humanly weak. I can't stand my feeling of power. Black gun, black turtleneck, black jeans. Alex smiles, sadly, jokingly, hidden: " I taught you well." I don't smile back. I shut my eyes, and get out of the car on touch alone. I listen as Alex drives away, facing the wall of the apartment building. He has taught me well. I'm using the tricks of Alex's instructors, the men I hate. Dark suits. Gambling with humanity. Clubs. Spades. They bludgeon and they bury. Mulder is sleeping. This man who never rests, and this last night of his life, he can. I shut my eyes again [I will not cry]. I will not fail my world, my ideal. [Dana, how I've failed you]. I approach Mulder's futon. I've come close, and I kneel. His face is inches from mine. "Mulder," I whisper. And he smiles, opens his eyes, too tired to realize I'm not considered alive. Mentally I tell him: [Never again will we forget what you've said.] I think to him, thoughts as strong and clear as I can get them: [I *must* do this. Dana will avenge this - their robbery of my soul and your life. We will crusade. We will be human and we will be freed.] Mulder blinks, and I raise the gun. I place it over his heart and look him in the eye. I search for terror, regret, understanding in his thoughts. These are human. This is Mulder, and they are there. As I pull the trigger, Mulder closes his eyes one final time. [Melissa] he tells me, [this isn't right]. [Yes it *is*] I promise. [I promise] I lay the gun down on the bloody blanket. My face falls to my hands and I breathe, shaking. Slow breaths. I'm alone in Mulder's dark apartment. There is blood on my hands. _____________________________________________________________________