Mourning Grace

by Jessica12

Doggett angst - It's the day of Luke's funeral....Please Review!

Title: Mourning Grace

Author: Jessica ( j_rothen@yahoo.se )

Website: www.geocities.com/jlovesxfiles

Rating: PG

Category:Doggett/Barbara,AU, angst, V

Spoiler: None

Archive: Whereever..Just let me know where

Feedback: Yes, PLEASE:...j_rothen@yahoo.se

Summary: It's the day of Luke's funeral.

Disclaimer: The X-files, Mulder and Scully belong to

FOX and they are not mine.

Note: Title is from a poem by Maya Angelou.

I got the idea for this story after watching the pilot

for "Boomtown" and the movie "The Pledge". Weird, huh?

English is not my first language so spelling/grammar

mistakes may occur.

THANK YOU: To Maria for doing a wonderful job helping me here. And

I sincerly hope everything will turn out okay in the end. Take

care of yourself and your family. Once again. Thank you.

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"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come



Let airplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling in the sky the message: "He is dead"

Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public

doves

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves



He was my north, my south, my east and west

My working week and my Sunday rest

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song

I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong



The stars are not wanted now; put out every one

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood

For nothing now can ever come to any good."

(Poem is called "Funeral Blues" by W.H Auden )

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Mourning Grace by: Jessica

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Sometimes it feels like I'm just an empty shell

walking around.

I wake every morning out of breath. I have to tell

myself to breathe. To remember to breathe.

I rise before the sun has set on the blue sky.

I hate the sun for rising in my world. Every morning

is the same.

I rise.

I walk into the kitchen and stand there clinging to

the warmth of a cup of coffee. Then I go into the

bathroom and stand under the shower for a while,

trying to get my cold shell of a body warm.

But it's no use. I can never get warm enough. Then I

grant myself the few minutes in front of the mirror.

Then I return to the bedroom. To wake her.

Barbara. I kneel down, whispering her name.

She wakes with a scream lingering on her lips. His

name escapes her lips. Every morning is the same. Her

eyes are wild as the meet mine. I understand. I have

had the same dream so many times. But I don't dream

anymore.

I take her hand to steady her. She whispers her plea

to me as she rises from the bed.

To save him. Her son.

I lie and say that I'm going to save him. But she

knows the truth as much as I do. She just won't hear

of it. I can't save him. No one can save him by now. I

guess it's time to stop hoping. She clings to that. To

hope. We walk into the kitchen, slowly. She whispers

his name time and time again.

Her words rip through me like a knife. She stumbled

towards the kitchen table and sits down. She sits

there in silence. I turn on the radio, wanting to hear

something besides the horrible silence.

I turn to the stove to make breakfast. I let my mind

drown in the sounds of the radio. I'm through the

kitchen like a robot. Not daring to move too fast. I

might break and scatter across the room just like

broken glass.

And I can't break. I won't break. She depends on me.

To steady her. To guide her through the day.

I fix her a plate then I sit down opposite her. She

sits with her head bowed. Starring at the plate. She

moves slowly. Just picking through her food.

For a single moment I want to scream. I sit there

starring at her, a scream lodged in my head.

I sit there while she slowly shuffles the food into

her mouth. I don't eat. I can't eat. I rise.

The sun comes into the window and warms my body.

I hate it for daring to show its face today. I move

towards the sink.

My hands tremble as I reach out and silence the

screaming radio. I hate them for trembling. I stand

there. Clinging to the sink. Trying not to fall. I

listen as she rises. As she moves up behind me.

Then her voice, piercing the silence of the room:

"John?" MOVE! MOVE!

She needs me. I should move. But I'm afraid to. I

might fall.

I might actually feel. I might actually feel my

bleeding heart. And that may be the death of me.

So I say: "Just give me a minute."

"Are you okay?" WHAT DO YOU THINK!?

"Sure." LIAR

Then I turn towards her. Ready to face her. Ready to

lie. I wish I could tell her. That I can't save her. I

can't help her. I can't even help myself.

But I lie. I have to try. To save her, I try to smile.

But the smile never reaches my eyes. Our eyes meet.

She knows. I can see it in her eyes. She knows me all

to well. She can read me like an open book.

But she can't help me. She hasn't got the strength.

She needs me to be her rock. I take her hand in mine.

So small ... so cold ...

so fragile.

We walk into the bedroom, to the clothes I have laid

out on the bed. A black dress. A black suit for me. I

stand in the doorway and watch as she heads to the

bathroom to take a shower.

Then I move. I dare to move. I peel off my clothes. I

stand there in the morning sun, trying to get warm but

its no use. I shiver (tremble) as I reach for the

suit.

My hands tremble as I pull on the pants and the shirt.

I curse them for being so weak. "Want some help?" She

is standing in the doorway, dressed in a robe.

Hair wet, she looks so small. Her face is pale. The

skin is almost transparent. Our eyes meet as she moves

towards me.

"You should get ready."

"Let me help with the tie."

I stand there watching as she comes towards me, with

the tie in one hand. I want to object.

But I need her touch. For a single minute I let

myself remember another time, another life when

happiness was mine.

Sundays going to church, Barbara with my tie in one

hand, helping me to get dressed; Luke by her side

telling me that I looked nice. Her voice brings me

back to reality. "You look nice, John." She is

standing before me, looking so fragile.

Tired eyes meet mine; tired of life. Of pain. Of

sorrow. She has given up. Hoping. She is fading away

from me and there is nothing I can do about it. "Thank

you."

That's all I can say. I don't know what to say her

anymore. My words seem so small, so shallow. Like they

can bring her comfort. Nothing can. She moves towards

the bed and pick up the dress. Her hands tremble as

she stands there, with her back turned.

"I don't want to go." Her voice pierces through the

silence of the room.

"Barbara..." "No, John...I can't.."

I knew the feeling, the same plea screamed in my head.

To stay away. Not go. Act like nothing was wrong. But

I couldn't do that. It would only cause me to bleed

more; I would die a slow and painful death.

"Barbara, we have to."

"No, we don't.. I can't go today. That would mean

that he's gone and I don't know if I can handle

that."

"We can make it together. All we have to do is stay

together." She turns towards me. Her eyes are dark as

she looks at me. Her voice is barely a whisper: "Why

did this happen? What have I done to deserve this?"

"I don't know.. I wish."

"Tell me that he's coming back..please."

"You know I can't do that."

"Lie to me."

"We can make it..."

"I don't know if I can."

"Barbara..."

I move towards her, but she moves away. Not wanting me

to touch her. Its been a long time since I really got

to hold her. To feel her arms around me. To hear her

heart beating against mine.

"I want him back...I don't know how to go on without

him...Tell me how to..."

"I can't."

"Please, tell me how to let go of him. My only son.

Our Luke."

"You have to.. We have to.. Otherwise you'll die."

"I don't care.. Let it come."

"Don't say that."

Tears fill her eyes as she looks at me. "Why couldn't

anyone save him?" "They tried.. You know that..."

Her face changes in a second. Pain flashes across her

face. Sorrow. Anger.

"Why couldn't YOU save him?"

Her words hit me right in the chest.

"Barbara.. I.."

She has no mercy as she continues:

"No, John.. Why couldn't YOU save him? I want to

know.."

"Don't do this."

"Tell me why the mighty John Doggett couldn't save his

only son!"

I back away from her. "Don't!"

"No, let's hear it. We never even talked about it. You

never explained."

I want to run. I want to scream. But I remain calm

while the storm is raging inside of me.

She doesn't know what she is saying. She can't know

the words I try to convince my own aching heart to

believe, but it doesn't believe them.

"Stop it, Barbara." "No! I won't back down.. Not this

time.. Why didn't you save our son, John. You were

supposed to be the tough cop. Why didn't you stop this

from happening? Why did you have to stay late that

night? You're supposed to protect your family from

evil. You should have been here...But you never

were...

FOR GOD'S SAKE, JOHN! HE WAS YOUR SON TOO!!!!"

Her scream fades to black. I stand there letting her

words sink in and shatter my already fragile heart. I

stand there while pieces [every little part] of me

scatter in the wind.

Our eyes meet. "Don't you feel anything?"

Her voice is just a whisper.

That was the end of me. Just like that. Anger run

through my veins as I look at her. "Don't you think I

have thought about what I should have done? Don't you

think I have gone over every option? What if I had

left an hour later? What if I hadn't stopped on the

way? Don't you think I have thought about it?

Because... I have... I hear his voice in my dreams..

Calling my name.. I'm hearing our dead son in my

dreams..

Calling for help.. and I try to reach him...But I

can't.... You're asking me if I don't feel

anything.... The truth is that I can't... I won't let

myself feel.

Because that would be the end of me.. and I can't let

that happen..." I stand there trying not to fall

apart.

"John, I..."

"No, now it's your turn to listen...I know that you

blame me for what happened..."

"No, John.. I don't.."

"Don't lie. I have seen the look in your eyes... For

God's sake you don't even let me hold you anymore."

"It's not.."

"It's okay... I blame me... This was all my fault.. I

can see that now... You're right... You are absolutely

right... I should have saved him... It was my job....

.

And I......failed..."

She moves towards me. Now it's my turn to move away.

"John...please.. I..."

"No, Barb.. I'm okay...I have to accept that I'm

responsible for Luke's death. So if you want to blame

someone...Blame me.. your husband.."

"No.."

"Shhhhh...I killed him....I killed Luke....."

I stand there trying to fight off the demons, but it's

hard fighting alone. Fighting for nothing. Silence

follows.

She is standing there in front of me while the sun

reaches its long arms into the room. So I run. I walk

out the room. Running away from her.

I made it to the kitchen without falling apart. I sat

down by the table. Trying to make the world stop

spinning but its no use. I run my hand over the smooth

surface of the table, remembering everything that had

happened around there. "John?" She is standing in the

doorway to our bedroom dressed in her black dress, her

blond hair combed back into a ponytail. She looks

younger. So fragile.

"Are you ready?" "No."

"Barbara." "But I know that I have to do this.."

I rise. On weak legs I walk up to her. Her eyes are

dark as they meet mine. I take her hand in mine.

Her voice is barely a whisper as she speaks: "Don't

let go...Don't ever let go...""Never." Then we walk

together out of the house.

The drive to the cemetery was the longest I have ever

done. We passed houses were kids played on the lawn

and housewives working in the garden.

It wasn't fair.

Don't they know? Don't they know that he's dead?

Shouldn't the world stop turning? We passed houses

were people were happy. Perfect houses. Perfect

families.

I watch Barbara from the corner of my eye. She is

sitting beside me clinging to her purse like it could

save her from what is to come. I wish I could ease her

pain somehow, to erase all of this. Bring him back to

us, safe and unharmed. I used to think that I could do

anything. I used to think that there were no obstacles

I couldn't climb.

Until this. Until him. Until now.

Guess I was wrong.

The cemetery came in view. The church where the

service will take place. My hands tremble a little as

I parked the car. We sit there in silence in the

parking lot outside the church; neither of us dares to

move. To speak. I try to get my heart to beat again. I

try to breathe. It's getting harder. "I guess we

should go in." The world comes back with the sound of

her voice. I look at her. Our eyes meet. "I guess."

I want to tell her that we can stay here a little

longer. Just a minute longer. Not wanting to go just

yet, but I guess I'm acting silly. I open the door and

step out. It's amazing that my legs are still working.

My hands tremble once again as I put the key in the

door and lock it. Barbara comes around on my side and

takes my hand. So cold. So small in mine.

We walk in silence over to the church. I have never

believed in a god, and I'm not going to start now. He

has no mercy. Luke was just a boy. A boy that hurt no

one. We walk inside. The coffin is standing in front

of the altar. With God looking down on him. We have

requested a closed coffin. I don't think I could take

seeing him lying there.

Luke. My boy.

We walk forward down the aisle, clinging to each

other. I can feel the pain rip through her body. I

keep my eyes fixed at the coffin. Expecting the lid to

fly open and he jumps out shouting that this was all a

mistake. It had to be.

Silly. Stupid.

I want to run. Just turn around and run out the door.

But I can't. I can't run from this. Not this time.

We sit down in the front row. Silence. The only thing

that pierces the silence is the muffled sound of organ

music. I keep my eyes fixed at the coffin. It's so

small. Covered with white roses and lilies. I was the

one that chose the flowers and the coffin. I couldn't

ask her to do it, so I did. Her hand finds its way to

mine. She doesn't have to speak. I know what she is

thinking. Our eyes meet. She is crying silently. I

cling to her hand. I want to say something, anything.

I search for the right words to ease her pain, but I

find nothing. I return to starring at the coffin,

while the mourners come. They walk past us. They nod

and say how sorry they are.

Friends, neighbors, strangers.

They walk past the coffin. Somebody places flowers

beside it; others pray. A scream lingers in my mind.

They can't know what it's like.

They can't know our pain.

Their words can't mend our hearts. I sit there

listening to her sobbing, trying not to break. Trying

not to let myself feel. It's better this way.

Numb. Maybe then I will survive.

The priest enters from a side door and come towards

us, an old man with white hair and yellow teeth. He

gives us a little smile. "How are you two doing?" I

want to punch him for thinking things might change.

I want to scream: WE ARE BURYING OUR SON TODAY! HOW

DO YOU THINK WE ARE DOING!? But I remain my calm

self. So I lie and say: "It's okay."

"I will start now, if that's okay.."

"Sure." NNNOOOO!!!!!

I'm not ready. Not yet. To say goodbye to him. To lose

him. But there was no time left. No time for us.

The service starts and I sit there like a zombie, half

alive. With a bleeding heart. With a crushed soul.

Trying to breathe. Trying to make my heart move. Time

passes so quickly for the man of the hour.

The service comes to its end. I rise. I take her hand

in mine. We start to walk.

Follow the coffin. To its final resting place.

We walk in silence, clinging to each other, Barbara

and I. We pass people, mourners. Friends. Family. I

can't look them in the eye. Not yet. Not now. I need

to find strength to face them.

The sun warms my face as we exit the church. Such a

beautiful day. The need to run washes over me suddenly

but I brush it aside. Knowing I have to stand by her

side. She is counting on me to be the strong one. I

wish I were. Strong.

We arrive at the grave. I stand there with her hand in

mine. My eyes are fixed at that dark hole that will be

his resting place.

The ceremony starts. The last goodbye. I feel so cold;

it chills me right to the bone. "Ashes to ashes, dust

to dust..."

The priest's voice brings me back to reality.

Take me away.

Take my life. I don't need it anymore. I can't

survive this. I don't know if I want to live. It feels

like every part of me will scatter in the wind and

it's only my skin that holds it back.

The pain is indescribable. It takes my breath away. I

can't breathe. I panic. It feels like someone has

taken a hammer to my heart, a knife to my soul.

Slowly, but surely, killing me.

The priest finishes the ceremony and our eyes meet. He

wants me to move, to be the first one to say goodbye.

I let go of her hand and walk those few feet to the

coffin. My legs feel weak as I kneel down and pick up

a handful with dirt.

I rise. I stand there with the dirt in one hand while

the memories comes crushing down on me. His face his

before me. Luke. My beautiful boy. I grasp for air as

tears makes my vision blurry.

I can't fall. I will not fall.

Please, God, let death come for me now.

Come to me now. Take me away.

I can't do this. I'm not ready, for god's sake.

I can't say goodbye to him. Not yet. It's too soon.

Please.

Please.

I cling to the dirt like it can save me from the pain

that surely will be the death of me.

"Luke........"

He is smiling. I can almost hear his voice.

Calling me. Calling my name.

Daddy. "Goodbye."

I let go of the dirt and let it fall over the coffin.

I stumble backwards, fumbling with my coat.

I try to brush away the tears with the back of my

hand.

She moves. Barbara. She stumbles forward.

Then with a cry she falls to her knees.

In front of the coffin.

She screams his name to the blue sky:

"LLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUKKKKKEEE!!!!!"

Her cry is a plea,

To a God that has no mercy.

To a God that took her only son.

That took her heart.

She slams her angry fists into the ground crying out a

plea to bring her son back to her. I should move. I

know. But I can't.

My legs won't move. All I can feel is the explosion

that breaks my insides into millions of pieces.

How it hurts! God, it hurts.

The only sound that pierces the silence of the

cemetery is her voice.

I move. Slowly. I help her up. She falls into me.

She buries her face in my jacket. And she cries.

Then she lifts her head towards me. Our eyes meet.

"I thought I could do this...I was so sure... But..

God... John... Luke...Our boy...I can't....Please..."

"I know." My voice is barely a whisper.

"Tell me, please.. God.. tell me that he will come

back to us. I can't do this... without him... I

can't..."

"Let's get you out of here..."

I take her hand in mine, And we start to walk. She

clings to me while we make our way towards the car.

I know it's too soon for her to say goodbye.

She needs to make her peace. It will not happen today.

Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not ever. She climbs into

the car.

Her eyes are dark. Distant. Her mind is miles away.

I climb in and turn the key. I try to breathe. I dare

to breathe. The pain strikes once again. I grasp for

air.

I need to be strong. I have to be strong.

I can't fall. Won't fall.

With those words ringing in my ear we head home.

The house is dark as we arrive.

I help her inside. I lay her down on our bed.

Her eyes are blank. Broken. Like me. Broken.

I wrap a blanket around her body. Then I leave the

room.

I walk around the house like a zombie.

I end up in his room eventually.

It called out to me. Begging me to come.

I stop in front of the door. My hand trembles as I

turn the doorknob. I hold my breath. I almost expect

him calling my name as I enter the room. But all I

hear is silence.

We have left it just as he has left it. I know that we

have to start packing up his things. Realize that he

isn't coming back. Our boy isn't coming home. All

those memories this room held came crashing down on

me.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...DADDY!" His voice.. God..

Luke...

It's amazing. I can almost feel him. His little hand

in mine. His favorite teddy bear is lying on the bed.

I walk up to the bed and with trembling hands I pick

it up.

The scent that shimmers out from the soft fabric was

the end of me. I bury my nose in the soft heaven and I

inhale.

His scent. Luke.

And with a cry I fall. With a scream I die. A muffled

scream.

"LLUKKKEEE!"

The tears come suddenly. I crumble to the ground.

And I cry. God, I cry. Everything I had been holding

back, every feeling I had suppressed came crashing

down on me.

All at once. Let death come. Now. Put me to sleep.

"I know we haven't talked in a while..."

Talking to a God that only brought pain.

"I know that I haven't been good...But I have tried..

I have tried to be a good man...Please... PLEASE...

Don't... DO this! I'm begging you.. Don't take

him....! If somebody has to die... Then take me.. ME!

I deserve it!

Take my life.. Just spare him.. Spare my son...

Please.. Bring him back to me!!!!! PLLLLEASE GOD!!!!!"

In that moment, in that single moment something inside

of me died. I can feel it. I hate the heart that is

pounding in my chest.

Take me away. Let me die. I can't take this. Not

anymore.

I'm not ready to let him go. Not yet.

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Feedback---j_rothen@yahoo.se