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Identity

By: Kathy

 

 

A little Cypher-related fic I posted to SA a while ago.
 


It's been a few days since it happened. I think the initial shock is wearing off and the actual reality of the whole thing is setting in
now.

Jim is worried. It's not like he comes right out and says it though. But I can tell. He's calling me more often now on days we're apart - just to say hi, he says, but I think... I think he just wants to hear my voice. I think he needs that reassurance, hearing my voice and knowing that it's really me.

Then there are the rumors I've been hearing at the station. Whispered words talking about how... frantic he was after I was grabbed. I still have trouble wrapping my mind around that. Jim Ellison frantic. Over me. I guess at some point we're going to have to talk about it. But not right now.

Right now, all I can think about is him. Lash. For the first few days after he grabbed me, I was freaked. Even knowing he was dead, I kept expecting him to jump out at me or something. And the nightmares... Well, to say they were bad doesn't even begin to cover it.

But it's worse now. Because now, I'm starting to think about it. Analyze it. Trying to figure out why he chose me.

I think I know.

We're alike, Lash and I. I'm not talking about the abusive childhood or anything - my mother never abused me, despite what some people may think - and I sure as hell have never wanted to kill anyone.

But... Lash changed himself, became other people, because he thought that no one could ever love ... or accept ... him for who he really was.

I think that when Lash met me, he realized that... I do the same.

I've done it my whole life; played the chameleon, changing to blend in with my surroundings. I had to. It was a defense mechanism. We moved around a lot while I was growing up. I soon learned that if I didn't want to become the class punching bag then I'd better fit in. So I did.

Over the years, I've gotten pretty good at it too. It's part of the reason why I'm a good anthropologist. I immerse myself in whatever culture I'm studying and become a part of it.

I change myself in order to be accepted.

Just like Lash.

It never used to bother me. But now... now, when I look in the mirror, I can't help wondering... who am I now?

And the thing that scares me the most... I don't think I know anymore...
 


The End


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