Title: Refusal to Forget
Author: Skylarcat
Classification: MSR, Chapter Fic
Rating: PG 13
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: What the mind chooses not to remember the heart refuses to forget.
Note: Scully and Mulder are characters that belong to Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Yes, I have used them without permission. However, no copyright infringement is intended. And I will return them intact and a lot more satisfied.
Chapter One: Becoming Strangers in a Church.
It occurred on a September day not too long ago in a town forgotten by the rest of the world. Though fall had arrived, the humidity remained sticky, glue-like upon the skin and silk fabrics and cotton threads conformed to the dampness of the body. The heat was so dense that it could only be described as suffocating. Its thick murky air swelled and dripped with anticipation of what would come. On days like this, time often stood still. Change was near. It rested around every corner, awaited behind every door and all anyone could do was wait.
Climate like this often inspired people to think—to think about life and what it consisted of—and what it truly consisted of was often amusing. Assortments of clips and photographs of memories collected by the mind, stored safely in the dusty corners there, awaiting discovery at a later time. Shuffled and organized, filtered in entrapments of love and tailored in pain only to be recalled on another day.
Change could be collected within a glass jar. Where there it could be scrutinized and admired. Its mysteries locked in strands that twisted and bonded against the cool smooth surface of glass threatening breakage. Until finally it surrenders and shatters sending its bitter and broken pieces across the floor of time to be remembered forever if allowed.
A thousand memories shared between the two and all were precious in their own way. A sunburst of time where history turned into legend and legend transformed into myth. But it was who they were; it was who they had become.
In a world filled with such complex issues their friendship, their meaning to one another, their love, was simple within its existence and yet miraculous to experience. But in this town time had no meaning and history could be forgotten. A sunburst could expire into a dark mass of emptiness and change meaninglessly.
She sat in a corner beneath the large glass-stain windows cradling her knees to her chest. And despite the dense heat of the morning she shivered. The tiny fingers of apprehensiveness and remorse rippled down her body sending chills along her spine. She lifted her eyes to the statue of Christ that towered above her slightly to the right. He hovered there glaring with scrutiny and she wondered if this was punishment for some crime she had unknowingly committed.
She adverted her stare to where he sat against another wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head bent slightly in defection and she wanted nothing more then to be able to crawl over to him; to comfort him; to tell him everything would be okay. But she couldn't; not when she knew it wouldn't be okay; not when she needed to be comfort herself.
Slowly, she found the courage to allow her voice to form the words she feared to ask. "Are you sure this is the only way?"
He jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, surprised that she was able to speak and without looking up his only response was a nod.
Only then did she allow herself to crawl over to where he rested. Her small feeble hands worked indulgently to bring his face to her level and only once eye contact was made did she speak.
"If this is how it's going to end then I have to tell you something, Mulder."
She could feel the swell of tears, the salt burning her eyes and clouding her vision, but she refused to allow it to stop her. This was the moment—it had to be. She felt his hands brace her upon her waist offering her support just as he always had. And she realized that once he removed them she would fall—fall into nothingness.
"If tomorrow comes and we no longer remember each other then I need to tell you this...I need you to know this..." She paused, leaning closer so her cheek rested upon his, her lips close to his ear and whispered, "I love you."
His arms now wrapped around her bringing her close against him—clinging for dear life as he broke down sobbing and between gasps he mumbled, "I love you, too...I love you, too,…I love you, too."
She pulled away only momentarily searching his eyes. "Mulder, will you remember me?" She asked even though she already knew the answer in which would pursue. She hated the reality of the situation and longed to awake to discover it was all a dream, but she knew there would be no such luck and that broke her heart even more.
He sensed this and brought his hand up to embrace her face as he answered, "I wish I could say I could never forget you, but in the present situation it would sound like a worn-out cliché. Come tomorrow our existence to each other will be forgotten." His lips brushed across her forehead before quietly adding, "Come tomorrow all will be forgotten."
She lowered her body within the folds of his arms, allowing her head to drape upon his shoulder. And they sat like this, unmoving, as the sun burst within the morning sky. And in a church, in some forgotten town, a couple of soul mates became strangers. But sometimes something magical occurs. What the mind chooses not to remember the heart refuses to forget.