But, you say, no one can make you do anything. Everyone has free will. But
I say free will is highly overrated. Humanity is given free will, but that
will must be decided on one way or the other, split between choices. Every
event, person, or thing can affect the decisions each person makes. Free
will is really prisoner to the ruler of all things—fate—because, I think,
we can exercise free will in conjunction with fate. Humanity can choose what
they will, but each path is set; it just waits for the choice to be made to
put the course into action.
I believe I am fated to long for him from afar. In the beginning, I chose to
help Cancerman, and I thereby set into motion a chain of events that led me
to Mulder. I was meant to meet him, and I knew when I first saw him that he
was a man meant to be mine. My first glimpse of him lasted no more than 5
seconds; he was walking down a hallway in the Hoover, his nose buried in a
case file. My breath stopped, and for an instant, so did time. Everything
seemed to slow down and people around me disappeared. I could hear my heart
thumping in my chest and my pulse ringing in my ears. I didn't even realize
he'd gone until someone tapped my shoulder to ask if I was OK.
That's why I chose to take on Cancerman's project. I would get to work with
Mulder. He was brilliant, and he was exasperating. He made me crazy—I was
happy one minute, angry the next. But I couldn't get enough. I tagged along
with him everywhere I could, hanging on his every word, and I watched him
secretly when he was alone. When he would call my name, I had to try to stop
my heart from racing and my palms from sweating. He would sometimes lean
close to me and ask a question, and it was all I could do spit out an answer.
Mulder would just laugh and walk away, leaving me alone again.
But I wanted him all for myself. I thought Scully didn't appreciate the
intracacies of his mind and character. Somewhere in her brain she pitied
him. She felt sorry for his solitary life and single-minded mission. And I
loathed her for that. So, I chose to handle her in the best way I thought
possible. I thought in some way Mulder would appreciate the method. It
would be poetic—the Abduction.
But I did I ever choose wrong. I thought it would bring him closer to me,
that we could start to have something deeper. It didn't. He became obsessed
with finding her, and in return, I became obsessed with him not finding her.
And I won. He couldn't get her; it was too late. When They removed me from
my position as his partner, I realized that I had been wrong, and if I
returned her, he might like me again. But, again, it was too late—I was
told to stop fighting the Project or I'd die. And in my life, I understood
one thing completely—survival at all costs. Scully was eventually returned
to him, but it wasn't by my doing. For several years, I walked the straight
and narrow line set for me by the Consortium—self-sacrifice was never a
trait I possessed.
So each choice I made affected the next one and the next one until I was so
far away from him I couldn't breathe. I watched him from afar, sometimes,
and I dreamed of the paths not taken. I wondered if my fate could have been
different had I handled my free will differently, or if I was made to always
be lonely and wanting him. Maybe I was only supposed to know him for that
instant so I would spend the rest of my life suffering without him. It was
depressing to think that way, but with the life I led, it was the only way I
could put things into perspective.
At night, especially, I longed for the warmth and safety of him. He is so
very good. His intentions are so sure. I wished I could climb inside him
and curl into a tight ball in the pit of his stomach. Or lift up the lid on
his brain just to watch it work, flashing and pulsing between thoughts. That
kind of intimacy was my deepest desire. I wanted to kiss him and touch him,
but to be allowed into him, his thoughts, his ideas, was more than I could
have ever wanted. Just to sit beside him, drinking him up, would have been
heaven. But I never knew that kind of closeness to him firsthand. Anything I
knew of him came from distant memory and imagination. Or from his punches,
which were always sweet in their violent insistence. Mulder even puts his
heart into his hate.
So, in light of all these things, I made a decision to tempt my fate and take
a chance with free will. Right now, I am feeding him information—handing
him a bust. And, in essence, handing him myself. I will let him find me,
and if he kills me, then at least I will die at his hands. He will never
forget me if he kills me. And, on the other hand, if he does not kill me, I
will talk to him, try to make him see that all I want is him. This is the
closest I can get to self-sacrifice—and it's all for him.
end
Free Will
by Susan
There are times when I feel utterly and completely alone in the world. I
could be surrounded by people, walking down the street in New York City and
be lonely. I guess you could say I've put myself in this situation, and that
I shouldn't complain. Point taken. But I'm only lonely because I have been
forced—by circumstances beyond my control—to relinquish the person who
could take away this vacant feeling.
