The problem is, I really don’t care for this Mulder characterization.
This is not Mulder at his best, I grant you. It's true, there is a complete absence of a rich inner life. He's lying on the ground unconscious, and these are his uncensored thoughts and memories during that interval, being punctuated by Scully yelling at him to get up. His brain is not being filtered, so it's all right out there, including Scully's "firm little ass" and her unguarded remarks about what her stools look like. (She was still in shock and I gather wasn't filtering much either at that point.) The memories themselves are not exactly stellar. He was also in shock, suffering from a head injury, exhaustion, dehydration, and hypothermia. He'd just drunk a cup of coffee laced with whiskey, too.
And I don’t recall there being a single description of her fixing anyone with an incisive look, or studying them with an intent gaze, or any such thing. She doesn’t do anything "stoic" or "stern" or "determined" or "deliberate" or "careful" or "cautious"; there are certain descriptors commonly used in reference to Scully (far more of them than I’ve listed, of course), and this fic seems to have almost none of them.
But the story is very tightly written in third person, limited to Mulder's POV. He wouldn't be remembering her as any of those things right now. He's lying unconscious, with his memory being jogged by her yelling at him; he's remembering events that happened while he was falling asleep or barely conscious or tossing his cookies.
I like that it's a moment of serious reflection on the epic danger they just faced. But this seems to be implying that if Mulder had stopped or been held up for a moment at any point in his journey to Antarctica, he would have been too late, which is (probably) not the case.
There was a deadline—I looked it up—96 hours to administer the vaccine to Scully. I'm hard pressed to see how he made it there at all, let alone within 96 hours. They barely got far enough away from the ship in time to miss being buried by the avalanche created by the ship taking off. And both the thought and his memory of it are being generated under less than ideal circumstances. Even if his fears aren't logical and objectively true, couldn't he still be feeling them, lying on that cot right after they've arrived at say, McMurdo Station? He's still afraid they're going to take her from him, too. He's remembering it, that moment of pure fear, knowing that he could have failed. He's so afraid, he's putting himself between her and the door, lying down next to her on the cot.
Taking a deep breath, Mulder picked up his pillow and took the one step to her bed. "Then move over. If someone else wants to get you, at least I'll know about it." And, surprisingly, she slid over against the wall, pulling down the rough blanket and stiff cotton top sheet as she moved.
This moment of vulnerability between them makes my throat catch.
But if the fic didn't work for you, well, it didn't. You might change your mind. I know I liked the story much better this time around.
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winterfish
no subject
Date: 2012-02-24 02:08 am (UTC)This is not Mulder at his best, I grant you. It's true, there is a complete absence of a rich inner life. He's lying on the ground unconscious, and these are his uncensored thoughts and memories during that interval, being punctuated by Scully yelling at him to get up. His brain is not being filtered, so it's all right out there, including Scully's "firm little ass" and her unguarded remarks about what her stools look like. (She was still in shock and I gather wasn't filtering much either at that point.) The memories themselves are not exactly stellar. He was also in shock, suffering from a head injury, exhaustion, dehydration, and hypothermia. He'd just drunk a cup of coffee laced with whiskey, too.
And I don’t recall there being a single description of her fixing anyone with an incisive look, or studying them with an intent gaze, or any such thing. She doesn’t do anything "stoic" or "stern" or "determined" or "deliberate" or "careful" or "cautious"; there are certain descriptors commonly used in reference to Scully (far more of them than I’ve listed, of course), and this fic seems to have almost none of them.
But the story is very tightly written in third person, limited to Mulder's POV. He wouldn't be remembering her as any of those things right now. He's lying unconscious, with his memory being jogged by her yelling at him; he's remembering events that happened while he was falling asleep or barely conscious or tossing his cookies.
I like that it's a moment of serious reflection on the epic danger they just faced. But this seems to be implying that if Mulder had stopped or been held up for a moment at any point in his journey to Antarctica, he would have been too late, which is (probably) not the case.
There was a deadline—I looked it up—96 hours to administer the vaccine to Scully. I'm hard pressed to see how he made it there at all, let alone within 96 hours. They barely got far enough away from the ship in time to miss being buried by the avalanche created by the ship taking off. And both the thought and his memory of it are being generated under less than ideal circumstances. Even if his fears aren't logical and objectively true, couldn't he still be feeling them, lying on that cot right after they've arrived at say, McMurdo Station? He's still afraid they're going to take her from him, too. He's remembering it, that moment of pure fear, knowing that he could have failed. He's so afraid, he's putting himself between her and the door, lying down next to her on the cot.
Taking a deep breath, Mulder picked up his pillow and took the one step to her bed. "Then move over. If someone else wants to get you, at least I'll know about it." And, surprisingly, she slid over against the wall, pulling down the rough blanket and stiff cotton top sheet as she moved.
This moment of vulnerability between them makes my throat catch.
But if the fic didn't work for you, well, it didn't. You might change your mind. I know I liked the story much better this time around.