Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Notes: For literati, as always. *smooch*
They promised him he'd get used to it eventually, but he never did. They said he'd start to regard it as a part of himself. He didn't. It could grasp a mug, form a fist, and even support his weight, but it could never provide the sensory feedback he craved so very much.
It was just a tool, a necessary evil to get the job done, something that could be used as a weapon if all else failed.
It wasn't just a part of him, it was him - cold, dead, unable to feel the ticklish skin behind Mulder's knees.