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Summary: A double 155-word post-ep for Pusher, gun POV. This takes place
right after Mulder hands Scully the gun, having just shot Modell.
Rating: PG for violence
*
* *
You can tell a lot about a person whose finger is on your trigger.
Most people don't
know that this connection between flesh and steel is
more powerful than an umbilical cord. That surge of emotion one
derives
from the act of aiming a gun -- trepidation, conceit,
exhilaration -- it flows both ways. I used to long for that excitement,
as I scorned my idyllic existence. Now, all I want is to never be drawn
again.
Before these last few
hours, I rarely ever got unholstered. The most
excitement I could hope for was my owner's hand at his side in a
threatening
pose. He was a gentle man, in a quiet hospital, so the
threat was rarely necessary.
Once a week we went
to the range. Then he would clean, lubricate and
polish me lovingly, until I was like new again. No such routine could
possibly renew me now.
My owner took the life of another he was sworn to protect. And then
he
took his own. Confusion, fear and regret filled his last thoughts. I'll
never forget the moment his hand went limp.
Everything after that was a blur of violence and grief. I was passed
from the hands of one who took malicious
delight in hunting fellow
humans like game, to the hands of one whose heart beat with
unspoken love and rage. The
hunter was tired of shooting at rabbits in
a meadow. He wanted an African safari, a chance to kill a magnificent
cheetah
or a fierce lion. But the cheetah cared not for his own life -- all
he wanted was to protect the lion and to wreak vengeance
upon all
who would dare harm her.
After all that thanatos, I felt their love pass though me for a
moment
and was stricken. Her finger holds his trigger just as surely as his
finger held mine.
* * *
Author's notes: Stenosing tenosynovitis, a.k.a. trigger finger,
is the
condition in which it is difficult to straighten a finger (or fingers) once
bent. Somehow I think it will take
more than orthopaedic surgery to
straighten out this trigger finger. <g>
I thought about naming this
Musings of a Security Guard's Gun, but that
seemed far too obvious for an evasive person like me. Besides, trigger
finger
is an old writer's injury. It seemed fitting.
This one is for Gayle. Thanks for the magic.
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