Author: RamenKitty PM
The X-files from the prospective of someone who works for the government.Rated: Fiction K - English - Parody/Drama - Words: 1,547 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 04-22-02 - id: 736284
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Okay…Ramen's on her little writin' kick. Now she's moved on to the world of X-FILES fanfiction!
(I know all you X-files fanfic readers are thrilled)
This is just a little idea I had whilst watching " Deep throat" about the misc. Extras (I was going to put an X where the e was supposed to be but wouldn't ya know…it wouldn't let me do that!) so what if you were one of the extras in Deep throat? (It's multipurpose, but in reality it applies to Deep throat.
Rating: PG for language.
Timeframe: during Episode two: deep throat. Way AU.
Summary: You as misc bad guy extra (scientist, military guy, alien, take your pick) go through a regular day In the X-files. (In this case, it's a scientist/Dr. point of view, but you could change it if you wanted to ^_^ also, it assumes a male perspective, but again if you changed it, it'd be female)
Disclaimer: the man, Chris Carter, owns X-files. Copyrighted whomever you send the money that would go to him…aww forget it.
Your wife stirs next to you, her hair tossed and matted from a nights turning. She thinks you work for a pharmacy company, perhaps doing something as mundane as making medicine for elderly patients. You sigh as you stand, looking at yourself in the mirror, an average human being, living an average life.
What a lie.
As you walk to the dresser for clothes you reflect on that-for the first time in ages. It's been so long since you even considered it that-
Your wife stirs " Hon?"
" I'm gonna go to the office early Bev." You say quietly, so as not to awake your teenage son in the next room," I was called in last night." You fold the red tie neatly, precise. That's how they like things at your work, precise. You run a comb through your hair as you step into the bathroom, nice and precise. Brush teeth, wash face, shave, etc. Boring routine in a life that's anything but…
A few minutes later you're driving.
The road twists, ebbing past the weed clogged field. You flash a badge at an impressive looking military guard. They know you here, you think. You've been head of military surgery for a while now…
" Morning Dr." The MP says in a bored tone, " They're waiting for you."
You nod and drive through.
The road to Ellen's air force base's main hanger is long and winding. Your eyes scan the road, looking for any stray bombs that trigger-happy pilots like to drop in the deserted fields. The security here is tight, but with what the base is hiding…
You aren't surprised.
You pull into your space, your name emblazoned above it in Red ink. A military inspection team breezes through the parkinglot, watching you with little interest. You sigh, preparing to go through suit up which is standard procedure for anyone entering the base.
" Boss man." Your assistant, a young girl of about 20, stares at you, Her blond hair is piled clumsily on her head, her great blue eyes blinking like some sort of cow.
" Patient waiting, "
You stand up.
Patient waiting was a code word among the higher military staff, saying that there was something the boys upstairs wanted you to do, and you had to do it. You throw on your lab coat and begin walking after her. She turns a corner before you, walking away to chat with one of her many friends.
Fine, she wasn't a part of this anyway, you think.
Your fellow Dr. is in scrub up by the time you arrive. His eyes blink at you and he smiles, warmly.
" Hey, how's that kid of yours?"
You reply with your usual comments, putting your white clothes on carefully.
In the operating room, the equipment is set up with its usual clutter. Your operating assistants, along with the other doctor's, are busy getting things ready.
You look down.
The man whose about to have his memory erased, or parts of it at least, looks up at you, wide eyes fearful.
You look at him coldly. If you wife and son were to see you, they wouldn't know you. The man doesn't know you either, in the end; you'll be remembered as a sort of vague phantom, a figment of his imagination.
You sigh, going to work.
The procedure of erasing a mind takes hours in the very least. You pull up a hand at the end, signaling the other doctor to stop work. They had erased all that was needed. You stand up, your posture weary with age and the amount of time you've spent bent over your patient. He's sleeping now, in a minute two stupid military guards will drag him to his feet and push him down the hallway to where he would be held…
You turn around to see one of your bosses, his ancient face looking over through the glass above your head. The " Hey" was from the military man, standing in the hallway to the room.
" Do you mind?" you grimace, you hate these military types," This is a delicate operation-"
" That you are finished with." The man says coldly, " One of our agents has been taken hostage by this one's partner." The man gestures roughly at the patient, lying slack on the table, " Wake him up and get him dressed."
" Its not easy you know."
He turns to you and you realize that he has a very sad look in his eyes.
" Of course, but that's why we do it."
You pause as the second doctor injects a liquid that will awaken the patient. He had to be treated carefully.
" Not here!" you snap at your partner, " Not here! Take him to an empty exam room- take a couple of these zombies with you." You point at the two standing near the door, " Go with him."
They follow your partner out.
You sigh as your boss walks in, his eyes look kindly at you, but there is a cold undertone…saying he's done things far worse then what you did today…
He sighs, " Agent Mulder won't remember anything?"
You shake your head and begin to clean up, throwing the syringes and the tubes away.
" Good," you look up at the man, " He has a lot of trials yet to pass through."
You blink at him as he looks at you, his ice blue eyes staring like two immortal souls down into yours…
You shudder, nod, and quickly leave.
As you walk outside to smoke, you see a situation at the far edge of the gate. Its too far for you to make out, until you see the patient being led by the soldiers to a jeep parked a few feet away from you…
He looks at you.
You look at him.
" Who…" one of the soldiers shoves him roughly as you watch, making sure your eyes are impassive and cold. As the jeep starts up again he looks back at you again, this time with pure, unseething hatred.
You sigh; flick the last bit of the cigarette away and turn back to go inside.
Your day consists of more then erasing memories. After three physicals on the test pilots, scheduling another memory erase operation for one pilot who can't take it any more, and an autopsy on one of the dead pilots, you are tired. Slumped against your desk in your regular lab coat, you debate going home rather then working late.
" Boss man?" your assistant looks at you, she puts a hand on your shoulder, " I'm gonna take off."
You nod, and she turns, leaving.
Making up your mind right then you pack your things and exit, nodding to the guard at the door. Suddenly, the memory of the man leaving with the Mp's hits you…
You stagger, staring out onto the road.
Overhead, the pilots of the planes who you keep save are doing maneuvers. They glow like shiny dots against an opaque background. You sigh, thinking of life, the universe, and how unstable these things are, and begin the long walk to your car.
The grass scratches at your pants. Your briefcase hanging from you like a dead leaf.
By the time you return home, its 11:00
Your wife stirs as you lay beside her, her hair strewn about her face. She blinks sleepily; you look at her with a calm expression.
" Hi Honey." She says, " How was your day?"
You pause, remembering all that happened.
"Okay." You climb into bed beside her, " About Usual."
*blinks* well? Read? Review? PLEASE?