I watched you turn, dodge, aim. Shoot.
Score.
Once upon a time, you would have rather died than miss a day of
work. As long as you had your quest, you could take any insult,
any abuse, and run back for more. I always found that endearing
and useful. Today, bereft of your X-Files, you obviously intended
to blow off the job—background checks? Manure detail?—to play
basketball.
Who knew that all they had to do to make you give up was bore
you to death? I smirked and couldn't help feeling a little
disappointed in you. You were too easy.
They'd broken you, made you lose sight of yourself, while I'd used
them to get stronger and better than I'd been in a long time. I had
their power and trust—well, as much trust as they could ever give—
while you had nothing. It wouldn't be fair to play with you now.
That would only make it more fun.
The world was changing around you, and you couldn't see it. You
were oblivious, numbed, sleeping. I could shoot you now, and
you'd never see it coming. I could grab you on your way out and
do anything I wanted to you.
Would you even care anymore?
But I could wait. I expected Scully to show up any second now to
announce the first move of the Syndicate's new campaign, your
wake-up call. They knew you'd be smart enough to see Spender's
offer for what it was; they knew how it would tear at you. You
were always so much more fun when you had some vague idea that
you were being used.
I wanted you to care, deeply. You were so pretty when you did...
The old men would be picking up their favorite pawn again,
throwing you back into the fray. But even they didn't realize that
the game and its rules had already begun to change in ways that
their old tactics wouldn't work with anymore. They were all
pawns on a board that became more dangerous and uncertain by
the day.
Only the strongest and most adaptable would survive.
That would be me. But I could always use a pet...
THE END
Sleeping
by Viridian5
I couldn't help smiling as I watched you at play. It was so rare to
see you put aside your often paralyzing overthinking to just do and
be. To just get things done. You were smiling a little, sweating a
bit, gleefully talking trash a lot. I could imagine the way you
would feel to the touch right now, hot and slick.
