07/18/00 Souls 2000 by Araxdelan Rated- PG13 Disclaimer- The X-Files belong to The Big Kahuna, aka Chris Carter. I describe, and quote, part of a story, that's credited to Neale Donald Walsh and God. In no way do I mean to plagiarize it. The last thing I need is God suing me. :o) Summary- Mulder finds his place with Krycek. Notes- The first time I read the "Little Soul" story (the whole of which can be found on my website at- http://araxdelan.tripod.com/littlesoul.html ) I saw "Mulder and Krycek" written all over it. More than a year ago I wrote an M/K fic based on and featuring that story. This is an edited and slightly re-written version of that fic. I'd like to take this time to thank all the people who sent me such lovely feedback on the original *Souls*. Also, great thanks to Raietta for all of her encouragment. It was her kind words that motivated me to finally revise this story, and this version would not exist without her. Souls 2000 ^^^^^^^^^^ The tree branches above my head are filled with golden leaves, sparkling with water droplets deposited by last night's rain. The shower bathed the forest, and the scent that surrounds me is fresh, clean. I walk down the familiar path, stones crunching beneath my feet. I leave no tracks here. No one could follow me, even if they knew where I was. I see him. He's leaning against the twisted trunk of an old, gnarled tree. A twisted tree... what a perfect metaphor for his soul. I stop a few feet away from him, and stare. He stares back, a dangerous green glare. A green glare that could trap even the most wary prey. "Well?" I ask. He simply continues staring, and I really begin to wonder where all this is leading. He shifts slightly against the bark of the tree, never breaking my gaze. I want to look away, but I can't. It's impossible. He leans forward, and I watch his hand as it draws near my face. Ever so slowly, he brushes a strand of my hair away from my forehead. "You're beautiful." he says, and I'm mesmerized at this new game that he's playing. Well, not quite new, and he isn't the only one playing at it. But neither of us had ever taken it this far before, laid things out so blatantly. His hand leaves my head, and suddenly the spot he was touching grows cold, longs for his touch. I reach out, and lay my hand on his cheek, ever so gently, testing the waters. He's shaved recently; the cheek is smooth. I draw my hand back, and lean over to kiss him there. I hear him take in a shaky breath as I do so, and he's afraid, frightened. I can smell it. So this is what you've been playing at, Alex? I lean back to look into his eyes. Clear, I've never seen them so clear before. No, not clear: open, honest. If I asked him now, he would tell me everything and anything I want to know. I move forward, and brush my lips over his. Slowly, ever so slowly, as if he's trying to decide whether or not I'm teasing him, he moves. Lifts his arm up around my back, and holds my head, deepening this kiss. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I feel pure joy radiating from him now. The fear is gone. So this is what a killers mouth tastes like, a liars mouth: home. His hand brushes lightly against my neck, against the short hairs there, warming me. I try to put my arms around him, but he's leaning too hard against the tree. As if it's the only thing holding him upright. He's the only thing holding *me* upright, so I decide not to pry him away from his support, and grab at his shoulders instead. And it's good, too good. This is wrong, but oh please, don't let it stop. His hand leaves my neck, sneaks up under my coat, my shirt. His touch on my bare skin warms me, extinguishes the cold in places I never knew were freezing. He's bad, ever so bad, but I... we... need this, this is *who we are*. And I remember a story, about a little soul, who went to God, and said, "I know who I am, I am the light." But it wasn't happy *knowing* it was the light. It wanted to experience *being* the light. And God explained to the little soul that it could not experience being the light in heaven, because when it was in heaven, it was *surrounded* by light. God explained that it would have to surround the soul with darkness in order for it to experience being the light. And in being the light among darkness, it had to choose an aspect of divinity in which to express itself, and God asked it to pick... ^^^^^^^^^^ The little soul said, "I choose, I choose that, that is what I want, I want to experience that." God said "My, my, my, this is your big day, for you have chosen forgiveness, you want to be forgiving." "Yes, yes," said the little soul. "That is what I want to do, I want to experience myself as forgiveness." "Well," said God "there is only one problem you see, there is no one to forgive." "No one?", said the little soul. God replied, "Look around, do you see anyone less perfect, less beautiful, less wondrous than you?" And in that moment the little soul turned and saw that all the souls from the Universe had gathered, for they had heard about the little soul's discussion with God. The soul looked around and all it saw was wonder and beauty and perfection, even as it was perfection, it could see perfection all around. The little soul said, "So I can see nothing but perfection all around. Who then shall I forgive for there is none less perfect than I? How shall I experience forgiveness?" Just then a friendly soul stepped forward from the crowd, "Do not despair, you can forgive me." The little soul said, "You, who are you?" The friendly soul replied, "I am one among many, I have chosen to step forward. I will provide you with someone to forgive in your next lifetime. I will do something in this, your next lifetime, that you can forgive." "What? What?", said the little soul "What will you do?" "Oh," the friendly soul replied "We will think of something." "But.. but why?", said the little soul, "Would you do that, for you are an object of beauty as am I. You are a being of total perfection, whose light is produced by the very vibration of your blessed and glorious self. So rapidly do you vibrate and shine that I cannot gaze upon you. What would cause you to slow down your vibration to such a speed that you would become heavy enough to do this horrible thing? Why would you do that?" And the friendly soul said, "It is quite simple, I would do it because I love you. Oh, do not look so amazed, you have done it for me as well, do you not remember? Have you forgotten me so soon? We have danced this dance before, you and I, we have danced this dance before. We have been the all of it, do you not remember? We have been the up and the down of it, the left and the right of it, the before and the after and we have been the good and the bad of it. We all have been the all of it, for each other. Surely you remember when I was the victim and you were the villain. Surely you remember, but you are right about one thing, it will not be easy slowing down my vibration exactly as you have described, it is not a simple matter. So I have only one favor to ask of you in this next lifetime. That is that you may be forgiving." "What, What," said the little soul, "I will do anything, anything. I get to experience myself as who I am, what could I possibly do for you in return?" The friendly soul replied, "In the moment that I strike you and spite you, in the moment that I do the worst thing possible to you that you can imagine, in that same moment remember who I really am. Because if you forget me as I am now, I will not remember myself at all. Worse yet you are liable to forget yourself too. Then we will both have forgotten who we really are, then we will need a third soul to help us remember." The little soul replied, "I will not forget, I will not forget, I will remember even in the worst moment." ^^^^^^^^^^ I didn't know what to make of that story the first time I read it. But I know now. Love is God and God is forgiveness, and all was lost the moment he looked at me like that... maybe before. When he kissed me on my cheek, or before, when I was beating him and he didn't fight back. He's learned to forgive, too. And I never want to bloody that nose ever again, and I kiss it. And I never want to split that lip again, and I kiss it. No more bruises here, here, or here, and I kiss his face. I forgive you, and you forgive me, and I remember. And now I'm home. ^^^^^^^^^^ End ^^^^^^^^^^ Feedback to krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com Website at http://araxdelan.tripod.com "I rewrote the ending of *A Farewell to Arms* thirty-nine times before I was satisfied," Ernest Hemingway once told an interviewer. "Was there a problem there?" the interviewer wanted to know. "What was it that stumped you?" "Getting the words right," said Hemingway.