WALKING IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW \
by - Joyce
May 1999DISCLAIMER: Frohike and Skinner don't belong to me; I only wish they did. They belong to 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. However, I'm only borrowing them for a moment and will return them intact. No infringement is intended.
NOTES: It would probably help to have read "When Johnny Came Marching Home" or "Blowing in the Wind" to understand this. Frohike and Skinner are both Vietnam vets and friends. A big thank-you to Deb and Meredith for their encouragement and edits.
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SUMMARY: Frohike is concerned by Skinner's sudden isolation.
I saw Skinner at the Wall last night. He turned away when I approached. For just a moment, I saw into his eyes before he turned on his heels. They were haunted; riddled with the ghosts of a distant war, and the ghosts of his future. I looked into the eyes of a man who does not expect to come back from a patrol. His feet sounded like staccato drumbeats as they hit the stone pavement in sharp, hard strides, just short of a run. I just stood there in dumb amazement, watching him retreat into the darkness.
After 'Nam, I prayed to Whoever was running this show that I'd never see those eyes again in anyone's face, especially that of a friend. Hopeless eyes. Trapped eyes. Hell and damnation looked back at me from Skinner's eyes, and I was afraid. Not for myself, particularly, but for him, and for Mulder. What have they done to him?
Skinner has always been a rock, immutable in purpose and honor. He was the perfect Marine, too perfect for the role they scripted for him. Lacking any sense of honor themselves, they did not calculate it into their plans. What price has he paid for standing between Mulder and the Conspiracy? What price will Mulder pay if Skinner is forced to choose the lesser of two evils? I'm no Solomon. I have no idea whether Mulder would prefer to give up his quest, or his life. For me, the answer would be simple. As long as I'm alive, there's got to be a way to fight back. Dead is rather final, and usually very messy. I prefer alive. If given time to think about it, I think Mulder would agree, but ask him to make a snap decision, and the hero in him just has to say no. I admire heroes. I have no desire to emulate them, or to mourn them.
I can believe that the rat bastards who run this conspiracy against the human race would believe that it's within their right to determine the fate of other men. What gives them the right to make Skinner do their dirty work for them? I just hope that underneath that starched spine of his, Skinner is as cynical as I am. Keep Mulder alive, my friend, even if the cost is his respect for you. Mulder is our one hope -- the only man foolish enough to believe he can take on the entire U.S. government and win. The troubling part of that quixotic madness is that he just might have a shot at it given half a chance.
I'm out here tonight because of a chance conversation with the barkeeper in the tavern across the way; the one where all vets go to remember and forget among our own. Over my fifth beer, he told me that Skinner had come one night about three weeks ago looking a stern as death. He marched up to the bar, ordered a round of drinks for everyone amid general rejoicing. Unusual, but Skinner had just had another miraculous brush with death, so I imagine he was in a celebrating mood. What chilled my soul was his action afterwards. The barkeep said he raised his glass to the crowd, then carefully put the still full glass down on the bar before walking out.
The barkeep just looked at me and I understood -- Skinner was saying goodbye to the company of honorable men.
Two nights of hacking got me Skinner's hospital records. Nano-technology. Now that's not something your average assassin is going to bother with. One of the nurse's reports on Skinner's miracle rebirth said that it was almost as if someone had flipped a switch. Now I know how. What I still don't know is who, or when this control is going to be used. Soon, I'd guess from the haunted look in Skinner's eyes. Who is anybody's guess. This is pretty high-tech, even for the Conspiracy. Someone wants him alive, and functional, to do their dirty work.
Byers and Langly were pretty amazed by the technology. They still don't buy into Mulder's aliens-are-trying-to-colonize-the-world theory, but they have to admit that this is technology way far down the road from what we know exists today. I believe Mulder, but then I saw some pretty strange shit in 'Nam. Mulder can be pretty flaky at times, but he's seen more than most men do in three lifetimes. He has the same look I probably had after too many night patrols waiting for Charlie to appear out of the shadows and attack.
That's another puzzle to add to the growing list of reasons why I don't sleep much anymore. Why is Mulder still alive? Why would anyone go to the trouble of gaining control of Skinner just to manipulate Mulder? It would be easier, and less expensive, to simply walk up behind Mulder and blow that brilliant mind all over the sidewalk. Someone wants Mulder alive, and that someone also wants Skinner to be the one to bring him down. This sounds like a personal vendetta to me. Knowing how tenaciously Mulder hangs on to trust, it isn't going to be easy to shake his faith in Skinner. However, I can see where Skinner's trust in himself is going to be badly eroded. Maybe that's the point. Martyr Skinner, and Mulder will blaze forth like the fiery sword of vengeance. Disgrace Skinner by his own hands, and Mulder will be reduced to frustrated impotence, if he's not too busy getting himself out of the mess Skinner orchestrated.
Mulder is being isolated. Skinner is just the latest in a long string of men who have made Mulder's passionate quest their own. Even knowing that alliance with Mulder is perilous, men like Skinner can't help responding to an honorable man waging a war against impossible odds. Honor recognizes honor. Hell, even my own tiny shreds of honor, those that managed to survive the Hell of 'Nam, feel the pull. Mulder is dangerous because he's passionate in an age where most men are content to exist in comfortable complacency. Skinner is dangerous because he's a man of integrity, duty, and honor: a knight without a crusade. Someone fucked up when they allowed those two men to come anywhere within speaking distance of each other. Mulder found the protector he needed to keep the jackals off his back. Skinner found the just war he had been searching for. Maybe there is a God, after all. I've had my doubts, but it's beginning to look like Somebody's on the side of the good guys.
Now, the two most honorable men I know are going to pay the price for their successful alliance. Divide and conquer. I can't stand by and watch this coming down without lifting a hand to help. I may not be much of a fighter, anymore, but I fight in my own way, and on my own turf. If anyone can find where the trail leads from the nano-virus infecting Skinner, I can. I will.
Seeing him tonight, I realize that he won't accept my help. Maybe he believes by avoiding me, he can save me from his fate. Does he expect so little from friends that he can believe I'll accept this? At least I can warn Mulder to be wary. I don't dare warn him specifically about Skinner. Mulder might just go charging off after a way to save Skinner, and end up getting himself killed. We need him alive. I'll have to trust Scully to keep Mulder alive and focused on the real enemy. She wouldn't understand the war I'm about to start. For one thing, it's highly illegal, unethical, and probably immoral -- in short, fun and nasty.
In the distance, I hear Skinner's footsteps fade away. I turn away and look at the names etched into the granite memorial of a war that consumed the living and the dead. Those of us who survived carry the war inside of us. It changed us in ways I can't begin to describe, but it also left us a legacy. Never again will we fight in a war not of our choosing. Now, I'm declaring war on the Conspiracy that's closing in around us.
It's going to be a hell of a war. I am not going to let a comrade, a friend, get swallowed up by the darkness. Byers and Langly will help, if just for the sake of tweaking the lion's tail. If this was a shooting war, I'd be willing to lay bets that the boys in the bar would strap on their guns one more time and start taking names. I hope it won't come to that. I really hate the sound of bullets whizzing past my head. Mulder, keep a tight hold on that trust of yours. Now is not the time to start doubting your instincts. Skinner, old buddy, just keep walking that tightrope. Make your choices as carefully as you can. Make the enemy fight for every inch of ground you are forced to yield. Don't give up. The infantry is on its way.
THE END
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