Chapter 7 - From Past To Present
John Doggett's House. 1:45 AM. Monica yawned lightly; John still messing with her hair closed his eyes lightly. They were both starting to fall asleep. "John?" Monica asked in a whisper. John answered quietly. A small murmur that sounded like, "yes?"
Monica chuckled. Their eyes still closed. "I think I'm too tired to get up." John laughed at this. "Tell ya the truth, I think I am too." "Remember when I first met you?" Monica asked, "and you were so nervous. It was on the case about your son, I guess you were more upset than anything though." John nodded. "I was upset, but I admit I was nervous to meet you."
"Why?" Monica asked. "Well aside from the fact that we were trying to find out what happened to my son, I saw across from me this beautiful, dark haired girl, who had such a radiant smile. I thought, 'there is someone I'd like to get to know' knowing the kind of case we were on, I instantly shut it out, but the feelings were still there, often coming out." Monica smiled. "Maybe it was fate..." she told him. John opened up his eyes and looked down at her. "What do you mean?"
Monica sat up and John smiled, putting his hand on her cheek, gently massaging it. "Maybe Luke brought us together." John turned away. Luke? How could she bring his son into this? He stood up, now wide awake, his back facing her.
"John," Monica sighed. "I know you don't believe in the paranormal. Ghosts or spirits or even fate, but I do." John looked over at her. Tears welding up inside of him. "Luke doesn't have that kind of power." "He does John. He does. I truly think he brought us together. We helped him and now he's helping us. He has been for so long. Oh John, don't you see that? Don't you feel it?"
John sat up, the tears gently falling from the side of his eyes as he kept his gaze away from her, so she wouldn't see him, but she knew better than that. She knew he was crying.
Monica sat up from the couch and walked up to him. Her hand now on his shoulder, John was afraid to even move, to even look at her, to even see her eyes. Eyes that made every man weak, eyes that especially made John Doggett weak. He sniffled lightly, and Monica, gently and slowly, put her arms around his waist, pulling him in for a hug, which wasn't an easy task, for unlike when John did it, Monica had an effort. She wasn't as strong as John. "John?" she asked. Silence.
"John, tell me that you feel it. You have to. You have to feel a stronger force. Something that's behind all of this."
John spun around, his eyes filled with sadness, but also at the same time anger. "Feel what Mon? Am I supposed to be a believer now? Am I supposed to go along with The X-Files and say that every case is true."
Monica took two steps back away from him. "Do you even hear yourself? You don't even seem to be listening to me, damnet John." John's eyes widened. "I'm saying that I don't know what this is. I feel and think however, that this could be perhaps related to your son, Luke."
"You're just trying to bring him into this nonsense."
"Nonsense?" Monica exclaimed, raising her voice. John backed away a couple of steps. "Is that what this is now? Nonsense? Perhaps this forced love is nonsense?"
"FORCED?" John's hands curled into fists. "I have tried, Mon. God knows I have tried, but all you do is try to make a goddamn X-Files case out of all this. That's all you do. That's all you're good at!"
Monica froze in her spot. She couldn't believe that John had said that, especially not to her. Not directed towards her. "Apparently this love is forced after all," she said coldly. John just stared at her. "I have tried too John.and if this is as good as it gets, then I don't want to stay to see how it ends."
She headed upstairs. "Where are you going?" John called out. "I'm going to get my stuff and then I'm going back to my apartment."
"Monica, wait!" But Monica didn't stay to listen, she ran upstairs and disappeared out of sight, and John found himself to be alone.again. He let out a frustrated sigh.
Like John, Monica couldn't hold in the tears. Perhaps it was due to the emotional fact that John had just broke her heart, or perhaps it was because everything general in her life seemed to be emotional. Like she was on an emotional roller coaster ride and every bump and every downslide tore a piece of her apart, making her more vulnerable to everything around her, including John. Especially John. She sat on the bed and cried away softly, knowing John was behind the closed door listening to her and he was indeed. He was afraid to walk in on her and make things worse, like he had just done. Instead, he just stood there and listened to her quiet sobs, himself, still crying. He constantly wiped away the tears, hoping to rid of them forever, but he couldn't. He couldn't wipe them away, because then they would come back, over and over and each tear made John feel less of a man than he already was. He didn't know whether or not to walk in and talk to her or to walk back downstairs and let her leave. He didn't want her to leave, but he didn't want her to be by herself either. He listened to his gut feeling, and slowly pushed back the door and found Monica holding onto a pillow, crying into it. She didn't see John, nor did she see him when he walked in. He stood there for a moment, watching her. She seemed so sad. He knew he had hurt her, and before, he promised himself, he would never do that and here he had. He hated himself. But never Monica, although she probably thought he did. "Want to talk?' he asked. Monica shook her head, rocking herself back and forth. "Go away and give me some time alone so I can get ready to leave."
"Please, Monica," John asked walking over to her a few steps. "Please, don't leave." He walked forward a couple more times, paused for a second and then said, "I know you don't want to leave." She looked up at him, both their eyes filled with tears. "I.I was just trying to make you feel better. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I feel Luke around you all the time.I didn't know how much it would cost us by even saying his name."
John smiled weakly and sat down next to her, she moved back a little. Still afraid of him, he saw. "Monica, Luke brings out so much emotions in me, also rage for what happened. I hear his name and I hate myself, for losing such a wonderful son. I blame myself for his death. I'm sorry for what happened. I'm sorry for taking out my frustrations on you. I do believe you in a sense about Luke bringing us together-"
He cupped his hands on Monica's face and lifted up her head, so she'd face him. "I also think, he would have loved to have known you in his life."
Before John could finish Monica threw her arms around him and cried incoherently in his chest, repeating over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." John rocked her back and forth as she held onto him even tighter. Her tears uncontrollable. John tried to comfort her. "It's okay, Mon. Shh."
"Do you think he would have really liked me?" she sobbed, quietly. John laughed. "Of course. I think what you're saying is true. I don't believe in much Monica, especially whatever pertains or consists of the paranormal, but I do believe what you're saying is true. I think Luke is bringing us together. There have been so many signs and I thank God for both him and you." Monica was still crying, and there was a moment of silence. He knew she was trying to understand what he was saying. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, I apologize again. You didn't do anything wrong. Believe me, it was all my doing. I love you.Monica. With all my heart, I love you."
Monica looked up at John and looked into his eyes. His eyes were watery, and about to burst full of tears, but he held them in, for Monica and for Luke. "I love you too, John." They kissed passionately. Both holding one another tight in each other's arms. John couldn't take it any longer; he began to cry, as did Monica. They kissed one more time and looked up at each other. John put his forehead against Monica's as they stared at one another, both smiling, tears in their eyes. "Don't," Monica said, as John wiped his eyes, "don't blame yourself for Luke's death. It wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault. If anything, I think you made the perfect father, you just never realized it..."
John smiled weakly, Monica's words going over in his mind. "You think so?" he asked stupidly, wishing he hadn't made Luke's death such a big deal. Monica nodded. This time it was Monica who put her hand on his cheek. "John, Luke will always be a big part of your life. I'm always here if you want to take about him. I will always listen."
John grabbed Monica and held her in a tight embrace. "I love you," John repeated again. Monica smiled. "I love you."
John fell back on the bed as Monica rested her head on his chest. Tears still lightly streaming down her face. John played with her hair as she began to fall asleep. John followed right behind.
John Doggett's House. 1:45 AM. Monica yawned lightly; John still messing with her hair closed his eyes lightly. They were both starting to fall asleep. "John?" Monica asked in a whisper. John answered quietly. A small murmur that sounded like, "yes?"
Monica chuckled. Their eyes still closed. "I think I'm too tired to get up." John laughed at this. "Tell ya the truth, I think I am too." "Remember when I first met you?" Monica asked, "and you were so nervous. It was on the case about your son, I guess you were more upset than anything though." John nodded. "I was upset, but I admit I was nervous to meet you."
"Why?" Monica asked. "Well aside from the fact that we were trying to find out what happened to my son, I saw across from me this beautiful, dark haired girl, who had such a radiant smile. I thought, 'there is someone I'd like to get to know' knowing the kind of case we were on, I instantly shut it out, but the feelings were still there, often coming out." Monica smiled. "Maybe it was fate..." she told him. John opened up his eyes and looked down at her. "What do you mean?"
Monica sat up and John smiled, putting his hand on her cheek, gently massaging it. "Maybe Luke brought us together." John turned away. Luke? How could she bring his son into this? He stood up, now wide awake, his back facing her.
"John," Monica sighed. "I know you don't believe in the paranormal. Ghosts or spirits or even fate, but I do." John looked over at her. Tears welding up inside of him. "Luke doesn't have that kind of power." "He does John. He does. I truly think he brought us together. We helped him and now he's helping us. He has been for so long. Oh John, don't you see that? Don't you feel it?"
John sat up, the tears gently falling from the side of his eyes as he kept his gaze away from her, so she wouldn't see him, but she knew better than that. She knew he was crying.
Monica sat up from the couch and walked up to him. Her hand now on his shoulder, John was afraid to even move, to even look at her, to even see her eyes. Eyes that made every man weak, eyes that especially made John Doggett weak. He sniffled lightly, and Monica, gently and slowly, put her arms around his waist, pulling him in for a hug, which wasn't an easy task, for unlike when John did it, Monica had an effort. She wasn't as strong as John. "John?" she asked. Silence.
"John, tell me that you feel it. You have to. You have to feel a stronger force. Something that's behind all of this."
John spun around, his eyes filled with sadness, but also at the same time anger. "Feel what Mon? Am I supposed to be a believer now? Am I supposed to go along with The X-Files and say that every case is true."
Monica took two steps back away from him. "Do you even hear yourself? You don't even seem to be listening to me, damnet John." John's eyes widened. "I'm saying that I don't know what this is. I feel and think however, that this could be perhaps related to your son, Luke."
"You're just trying to bring him into this nonsense."
"Nonsense?" Monica exclaimed, raising her voice. John backed away a couple of steps. "Is that what this is now? Nonsense? Perhaps this forced love is nonsense?"
"FORCED?" John's hands curled into fists. "I have tried, Mon. God knows I have tried, but all you do is try to make a goddamn X-Files case out of all this. That's all you do. That's all you're good at!"
Monica froze in her spot. She couldn't believe that John had said that, especially not to her. Not directed towards her. "Apparently this love is forced after all," she said coldly. John just stared at her. "I have tried too John.and if this is as good as it gets, then I don't want to stay to see how it ends."
She headed upstairs. "Where are you going?" John called out. "I'm going to get my stuff and then I'm going back to my apartment."
"Monica, wait!" But Monica didn't stay to listen, she ran upstairs and disappeared out of sight, and John found himself to be alone.again. He let out a frustrated sigh.
Like John, Monica couldn't hold in the tears. Perhaps it was due to the emotional fact that John had just broke her heart, or perhaps it was because everything general in her life seemed to be emotional. Like she was on an emotional roller coaster ride and every bump and every downslide tore a piece of her apart, making her more vulnerable to everything around her, including John. Especially John. She sat on the bed and cried away softly, knowing John was behind the closed door listening to her and he was indeed. He was afraid to walk in on her and make things worse, like he had just done. Instead, he just stood there and listened to her quiet sobs, himself, still crying. He constantly wiped away the tears, hoping to rid of them forever, but he couldn't. He couldn't wipe them away, because then they would come back, over and over and each tear made John feel less of a man than he already was. He didn't know whether or not to walk in and talk to her or to walk back downstairs and let her leave. He didn't want her to leave, but he didn't want her to be by herself either. He listened to his gut feeling, and slowly pushed back the door and found Monica holding onto a pillow, crying into it. She didn't see John, nor did she see him when he walked in. He stood there for a moment, watching her. She seemed so sad. He knew he had hurt her, and before, he promised himself, he would never do that and here he had. He hated himself. But never Monica, although she probably thought he did. "Want to talk?' he asked. Monica shook her head, rocking herself back and forth. "Go away and give me some time alone so I can get ready to leave."
"Please, Monica," John asked walking over to her a few steps. "Please, don't leave." He walked forward a couple more times, paused for a second and then said, "I know you don't want to leave." She looked up at him, both their eyes filled with tears. "I.I was just trying to make you feel better. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I feel Luke around you all the time.I didn't know how much it would cost us by even saying his name."
John smiled weakly and sat down next to her, she moved back a little. Still afraid of him, he saw. "Monica, Luke brings out so much emotions in me, also rage for what happened. I hear his name and I hate myself, for losing such a wonderful son. I blame myself for his death. I'm sorry for what happened. I'm sorry for taking out my frustrations on you. I do believe you in a sense about Luke bringing us together-"
He cupped his hands on Monica's face and lifted up her head, so she'd face him. "I also think, he would have loved to have known you in his life."
Before John could finish Monica threw her arms around him and cried incoherently in his chest, repeating over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." John rocked her back and forth as she held onto him even tighter. Her tears uncontrollable. John tried to comfort her. "It's okay, Mon. Shh."
"Do you think he would have really liked me?" she sobbed, quietly. John laughed. "Of course. I think what you're saying is true. I don't believe in much Monica, especially whatever pertains or consists of the paranormal, but I do believe what you're saying is true. I think Luke is bringing us together. There have been so many signs and I thank God for both him and you." Monica was still crying, and there was a moment of silence. He knew she was trying to understand what he was saying. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, I apologize again. You didn't do anything wrong. Believe me, it was all my doing. I love you.Monica. With all my heart, I love you."
Monica looked up at John and looked into his eyes. His eyes were watery, and about to burst full of tears, but he held them in, for Monica and for Luke. "I love you too, John." They kissed passionately. Both holding one another tight in each other's arms. John couldn't take it any longer; he began to cry, as did Monica. They kissed one more time and looked up at each other. John put his forehead against Monica's as they stared at one another, both smiling, tears in their eyes. "Don't," Monica said, as John wiped his eyes, "don't blame yourself for Luke's death. It wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault. If anything, I think you made the perfect father, you just never realized it..."
John smiled weakly, Monica's words going over in his mind. "You think so?" he asked stupidly, wishing he hadn't made Luke's death such a big deal. Monica nodded. This time it was Monica who put her hand on his cheek. "John, Luke will always be a big part of your life. I'm always here if you want to take about him. I will always listen."
John grabbed Monica and held her in a tight embrace. "I love you," John repeated again. Monica smiled. "I love you."
John fell back on the bed as Monica rested her head on his chest. Tears still lightly streaming down her face. John played with her hair as she began to fall asleep. John followed right behind.