Defeated
By
AllyinthekeyofX
Post Ep - Per Manum
What is a miracle? Is it something we can reach out and touch? Is it tangible enough to even recognise?
To understand its power; its majesty? Or do miracles happen every day only to pass us by? Are we too blind to see them?
I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could believe Mulder as he holds me gently against him as I cry these bitter, angry tears; tears that have been so long in coming and that now take my breath away with the sheer effort it takes to cry them at all.
It's so long since I cried like this, so long since I allowed myself to dissolve in to pieces in front of him. I try to remember when I last felt this hollow, this empty, but I just can't. The effort is too much for my bruised senses right now and I'm aware of nothing else but the feel of his arms as they tighten around me.
His whispered words reverberate around my head and even though I know he means well, that he would never intentionally hurt me, his words pierce me like needles to my skin, needles that have seemed to govern my very existence over the last few desperate months.
Never give up on a miracle Scully
He means to comfort me. To take away the sadness I saw reflected in his beautiful hazel eyes. But I don't believe in miracles the way I once did, I don't even want to believe anymore. Because belief brings with it false hope; hope that I am finding more and more that I just can't continue with, the past seven years having been a never ending emotional roller coaster ride of desire and disappointment, everything I once imagined life would be cruelly torn away from me.
And for what?
A handful of answers balanced against a hundred questions just isn't enough anymore. It's not enough to justify what we have been through together, not enough to justify what has been taken from us.
Sometimes, when I feel at my weakest, my most vulnerable, alone at night unable to sleep, I allow myself to fleetingly think that it might be better if I had never met him, wondering how my life might have been had I not chosen the path I did.
But like I say, those thoughts are fleeting; chased away by images of him that take me gently in to sleep, this complex man who has, over the years we have been together, somehow taken up residence in my heart. And when my mind is quiet, when my body is still, I allow myself to turn my thoughts to him, which even in itself is a painful reminder of what can never be, that no matter how much I want it – want him, that most simple of human requirements is just too complex to risk what we have.
Because what we share cannot be broken down into simplistic terms; we're not lovers - we never have been, despite what our colleagues may imagine.
We both know that we have been the subject of speculation for some time now, although they have no idea, how could they? Because what we share is so much more than the physical, a connection so deep that it would take death to tear us apart.
He loves me in a way I have never been loved before; he would lay down his life in exchange for mine without even giving it a second thought. Because I am his heart and he is mine.
I feel it in every fibre of his being as he holds me now. Allowing me to cry my tears that are surely scalding his soul the way they scald mine. He rocks me gently against him, whispering endearments that, frankly, I just don't feel worthy enough to hear right now.
Because I failed us.
He warned me not to have too much hope when we entered into this thing, his words telling me one thing whilst all the time his eyes and his heart betrayed him in his desperation; because I know he wanted this as much as I did - maybe more so. I know the miracle he wished for me he really wanted for us both; a way to carve out a future. To drag us away from a past that haunts us.
A new beginning.
But there will be no beginnings now.
There will only be the recriminations for things past as we struggle to exist in the depths of the darkness that threatens with every new day to consume us, to tear us apart, to finish us.
But while we are together we have strength. Together we will survive it. Whatever else I don't understand about my life I at least acknowledge that much because the thought of losing him has the power to reduce me to a terrified state of absolute nothingness; It's a horror I just can't comprehend despite everything I have experienced in the past.
Because I love him.
I love him with an intensity that blinds me to all others and as he holds me in his arms, allowing me to cry, I realise that he loves me too. It's not a flowers and candlelight kind of love, in fact I gave up on such romantic notion a long time ago because our love is different; our love is born of a lifetime of pain, of suffering, of things lost than can never be regained.
It is an enduring love.
And I know that whatever else they take from us, they will can never take that.
I feel Mulders lips as they place the gentlest kiss against my crown, so soft I can almost imagine that it didn't happen at all.
It's always been that way with us; we don't take anything for granted anymore. But he is here and this is real - at least for the moment.
But all too soon I feel him begin to loosen his arms from around me and I know that in a few seconds he will step away, to gaze in to my eyes and search for the answer he needs; for me to affirm to him that I am all right, to reassure him that I can deal with this, just as I always do.
But I can't deal with it.
Not anymore.
I don't even want to try.
I'm so tired of never admitting anything to him; this man, my dearest friend who once called me his touchstone, never realising that I might need him every bit as much as he needs me.
I don't want him to ask me if I'm okay because I know when he does I will lie to him, just as I always lie to him when he asks me that question. And when I do, he will turn and go. Giving me the space he stupidly thinks I need, he will leave me alone to face yet more heartbreak alone.
But space isn't what I need right now.
What I need is complicated, unattainable even; because all I need is him.
I wish he realised that, understood his place in my life because telling him is just too hard. I want him to read my mind, I want him to look into my eyes, to tell me finally what he really sees, to understand what I want from him.
I want him to take my hand and lead me away from all of this fucking darkness that has gradually and completely consumed me.
I want to know where I'm going now that the road has fallen away from beneath me.
I want to lay down beside him and trace my fingertips along his bare skin, to affirm once and for all that what we have is real.
I want to scream out my need of him in the dead of night. I want to shatter the stillness that surrounds me.
It's all just so complicated and yet it should be so simple. But then nothing is ever simple for us. I should know that by now.
I stiffen as I feel him step away, to release his hold on me. And I feel the tears threaten again because I'm not yet ready to break that connection with him. I'm not ready to smile at him with trembling lips and affirm that I'm fine, that I'm dealing with this, just as I have dealt with everything in our turbulent past.
Because right now, I feel like I want to die and he's the only thing that's keeping me breathing.
Why doesn't he realise that?
I can't look up at him. I know that if I do I will break down completely, so I take the easy way out; I begin to turn away from him, wanting, needing to be the one who walks away.
Because as much as it tears me apart I know it's the right thing for both of us.
I don't want to be able to blame him one day for leaving me when I needed him the most.
"Scully wait..."
His whispered imploration is so intense it stops me in my tracks; so much yearning in his voice, so much pain. In fact I sometimes wonder how much more pain we can be expected to bear before we shatter into a million pieces.
The urge to turn around, to throw myself against him is strong enough to make my heart miss a beat, yet another piece of me gone forever; surrendered to him.
But I don't.
Instead I begin to slip my coat from my shoulders, conscious suddenly that its added weight is just too much to bear even as I feel him behind me, waiting for me to respond.
And almost against my will, I turn back to him, my mouth forming the words I know he wants to hear.
"I'm fine Mulder."
There. I've said it.
Now he can go.
He can walk out the door with a clear conscience; safe in the knowledge that he has comforted me as much as I will permit him.
But he doesn't walk. He doesn't move and for the first time I'm aware of the streaks that shine wetly against his skin in the soft half light. Tears of his own that I was too consumed in my own misery - in my own failure - to even notice before, but now I watch as his eyes fill up again, watch a single tear break free and trace a new path down those same salty tracks.
Less than a foot separates us, a mere few inches that seem like infinity as he works his mouth like a little boy desperately trying not to cry and I suddenly realise that he's not even aware of the futility of trying to hold on to his emotion, that it's too late for that as the tears trickle steadily down that face I love so much.
"I'm not." He finally manages.
And it's enough.
It's enough for me to step forward, to cradle his face in my hands as I bring my lips to his skin, kissing away his tears, even as my own begin anew. I feel his fingers in my hair, guiding me towards him until finally I feel his mouth on mine, not in an explosion of fire and passion, but instead in a statement of infinite tenderness, of two lost souls who have finally found each other through the darkness.
And then he releases me, leaving me bereft; because I can't bear it, I can't bear to have him leave me now. I can't bear to have to accept another disappointment tonight.
I don't want to have to lay in my bed, sobbing into the darkness for all the things I will never have.
I think it might kill me eventually. This sadness that lives deep inside of me and which steals away all that is good from my life.
That might one day steal him.
But he doesn't go.
Instead, a tiny smile plays across his face, brightening his features, chasing away the pain for an instant, his beautiful eyes warm and soft as slowly, hesitantly, he holds out his hand to me.
I take it.
End