Story 82: "The Sin Eater" by Jane Mortimer
Last month, when I was going through the past recs for The X-Files at crack_van in preparation for my turn "driving the van," I was startled to realize that "The Sin Eater" was not on the list. As good as it is, and often as it has been recced elsewhere, I would have thought that everyone would have read it by now, but then a friend, who has been in the fandom since the fourth season, told me she had just read it recently, so this is apparently not the case.
Not only is it a classic science fiction story, complete with time travel and alternative history, it is also a brilliant character study of Mulder, told from Scully's point of view, which illustrates just how much he would give up in order to save his partner's life. Though written in 1997, which certainly qualifies it for Fandom Classic status, there is a very contemporary feel to the writing.
The light was blinding. She ran, panic-stricken, natural responses turned upside-down. It was like running through heavy water, like running in a dream when you know the shadows are going to catch up with you, a dark hand on your shoulder, any second now...
The light switched off and she kept running, released, hearing her own breath and her feet pounding the cement floor of the warehouse.
She was out the door and into bright sunshine. She had a glimpse of trees, parched summer grass, a hill --
And a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
"Scully -- "
She whirled around, heart jack-hammering.
"Scully, it's all right, it's me."
Relief coursed through her. "Mulder." She grabbed hold of him as though she were going down in a shipwreck, and he put his arms around her.
"It's all right, you made it through, you're okay." He murmured word after word, all the safety talismans that meant whatever had happened to her was over...
What had happened? She pushed him back suddenly. They'd gone into the warehouse... not that long ago. Half an hour? And he'd been wearing a different suit. And his face...
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
He seemed startled. "With me?"
It was his eyes, his expression, a certain look of refined misery, as though he'd just gotten out of bed after a fever. A burnt-down to essentials look. The crazy thing was, it had been suffused there, for a second, by a glow of sheer, inexplicable happiness that was so overpowering it was scary.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Scully, listen, do you remember -- "
"Nice guesswork, Mulder," said a baritone voice.
Scully turned and saw a man in his forties, sandy hair balding on top, wearing a jacket and casual slacks. He came out of the warehouse behind them, blinking at the sunlight.
But there hadn't been anyone in the warehouse. Not until the wind and the light --
"Guess they're right," the man drawled in a voice without a trace of friendliness, "you're a f*cking genius."
Mulder stepped away from Scully. He looked at the man expressionlessly. "Scully," he said, "This is Roger Platt."
"Always a pleasure," said Roger Platt.
She disliked him on sight. And where'd Mulder been keeping him, up his sleeve? They'd been alone when they came to the warehouse with their cameras, ready to record the evidence the supervisor had claimed was there -- evidence of strange visits at night, doors opening and closing, and lights from vehicles that moved vertically instead of keeping to the road in a reassuring manner.
Half an hour ago... when the sun had been close to the horizon. Now it burned overhead.
Scully went white. She turned to Mulder, trying to get the words past an enormous lump in her throat. "Time," she said, finally. "I'm missing time -- "
He took her arm, but made no move to embrace her in front of Platt. "It's all right. You weren't abducted. Trust me, Scully. Come back inside."
She looked at the building, square and nondescript in the sunlight, with its parking lot and loading dock on the side, with its empty boxes stacked in piles. It was thoroughly harmless.
"I don't want to go back in there."
He tugged at her arm gently. "Please. You'll be safe in there now."
She hesitated.
"Trust me," he said again, so she let herself be guided slowly back inside.
"The Sin Eater"
As I mentioned in my entry at crack_van, Jane's site at AOL went down last year, leaving a number of her stories not archived at Gossamer, including "A Bitter Taste on the Tongue" (het-angst), and "The Jacuzzi Stories" (het-fluff), so if you like them, you might want to save them to your hard-drive. In the meantime, here is a way-backed link to her old site: Jane Mortimer Fan Fiction.
As always, please let us know what you think, and do give us your suggestions for next time.
Not only is it a classic science fiction story, complete with time travel and alternative history, it is also a brilliant character study of Mulder, told from Scully's point of view, which illustrates just how much he would give up in order to save his partner's life. Though written in 1997, which certainly qualifies it for Fandom Classic status, there is a very contemporary feel to the writing.
The light was blinding. She ran, panic-stricken, natural responses turned upside-down. It was like running through heavy water, like running in a dream when you know the shadows are going to catch up with you, a dark hand on your shoulder, any second now...
The light switched off and she kept running, released, hearing her own breath and her feet pounding the cement floor of the warehouse.
She was out the door and into bright sunshine. She had a glimpse of trees, parched summer grass, a hill --
And a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
"Scully -- "
She whirled around, heart jack-hammering.
"Scully, it's all right, it's me."
Relief coursed through her. "Mulder." She grabbed hold of him as though she were going down in a shipwreck, and he put his arms around her.
"It's all right, you made it through, you're okay." He murmured word after word, all the safety talismans that meant whatever had happened to her was over...
What had happened? She pushed him back suddenly. They'd gone into the warehouse... not that long ago. Half an hour? And he'd been wearing a different suit. And his face...
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
He seemed startled. "With me?"
It was his eyes, his expression, a certain look of refined misery, as though he'd just gotten out of bed after a fever. A burnt-down to essentials look. The crazy thing was, it had been suffused there, for a second, by a glow of sheer, inexplicable happiness that was so overpowering it was scary.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Scully, listen, do you remember -- "
"Nice guesswork, Mulder," said a baritone voice.
Scully turned and saw a man in his forties, sandy hair balding on top, wearing a jacket and casual slacks. He came out of the warehouse behind them, blinking at the sunlight.
But there hadn't been anyone in the warehouse. Not until the wind and the light --
"Guess they're right," the man drawled in a voice without a trace of friendliness, "you're a f*cking genius."
Mulder stepped away from Scully. He looked at the man expressionlessly. "Scully," he said, "This is Roger Platt."
"Always a pleasure," said Roger Platt.
She disliked him on sight. And where'd Mulder been keeping him, up his sleeve? They'd been alone when they came to the warehouse with their cameras, ready to record the evidence the supervisor had claimed was there -- evidence of strange visits at night, doors opening and closing, and lights from vehicles that moved vertically instead of keeping to the road in a reassuring manner.
Half an hour ago... when the sun had been close to the horizon. Now it burned overhead.
Scully went white. She turned to Mulder, trying to get the words past an enormous lump in her throat. "Time," she said, finally. "I'm missing time -- "
He took her arm, but made no move to embrace her in front of Platt. "It's all right. You weren't abducted. Trust me, Scully. Come back inside."
She looked at the building, square and nondescript in the sunlight, with its parking lot and loading dock on the side, with its empty boxes stacked in piles. It was thoroughly harmless.
"I don't want to go back in there."
He tugged at her arm gently. "Please. You'll be safe in there now."
She hesitated.
"Trust me," he said again, so she let herself be guided slowly back inside.
"The Sin Eater"
As I mentioned in my entry at crack_van, Jane's site at AOL went down last year, leaving a number of her stories not archived at Gossamer, including "A Bitter Taste on the Tongue" (het-angst), and "The Jacuzzi Stories" (het-fluff), so if you like them, you might want to save them to your hard-drive. In the meantime, here is a way-backed link to her old site: Jane Mortimer Fan Fiction.
As always, please let us know what you think, and do give us your suggestions for next time.