Disclaimer:- I do not own 'Without A Trace' or any of the characters and the song 'Why Do You Have To Be So Hard To Love' belongs to Bryan Adams.
Pairing:- Martin/Samantha
Martin lays awake and reflects on his relationship with Samantha...
Was it some man that didn't treat you right
Left you reaching out for him in the middle of the night
Is there some heartache that you can't out run
That makes you so afraid to get close to anyone'
Maybe it had started the second her Father had walked out the door.
Maybe it had been the moment a gold band had been slipped onto her finger that her fate with men had been sealed.
Or maybe it was the night Jack had left her for the final time, returning home to a life and a family she could never be a part of.
Martin didn't know. It could have been any or all of these events that had led him here to this moment; lying there beside a woman he loved with all his heart, close enough to reach out and touch her, close enough to hear her soft breaths, yet still too far apart to ever truly know her.
Whatever had happened to this woman in her past had left her battered and bruised heart so afraid of further pain, that she had built a wall around it that was impenetrable even to the strongest love and most faithful heart.
So many people had rejected her in her young life that he knew there must have been a moment when she decided running 'to' somebody was just too painful and had instead started running from them for fear of further rejection.
But he didn't want to reject her; he didn't want to abandon her, or leave her, or cause her pain... he just wanted to love her.
Yet to her, the concept of being loved seemed just as frightening.
'You're so - easy to look at
You're so easy to hold
It's so easy to touch you - but so hard to let go
It's so easy to want you - that I can't get enough'
He didn't want to know her secrets or details of her past mistakes, he just wanted to know her; wanted to know what made her smile, what made her sad, what she dreamt of when she closed those bewitching eyes, what she wished and hoped for in the future and perhaps also feared.
If there came a day she trusted him enough to unload her fears and burdens, he would willingly carry them for her.
But he knew deep inside that would never happen and being this close to her, being around her, was just killing him.
He knew no matter how close he ever got to Samantha would never be close enough, because she wasn't there, not really, not in the way he needed.
'Tell me why do ya have to be…
Why do ya have to be so hard to love?'
He couldn't just be her lover in a physical sense anymore than he could ever now just be her friend.
He had been allowed a glimpse of something beautiful, a small taste of her that he could never forget and he knew he would always be wanting more.
He also knew she would never allow him to be any less than a friend and no more than a lover.
And he needed so much more from her than sex or mere friendship.
He needed 'her', all of her; he needed the very essence and soul of this woman that he unwillingly adored.
There would be no escape for his heart; she forced him to love her;
Forced him to adore her with her soulful eyes, mesmerizing smiles and soft caresses.
She held his heart hostage at the dream of what 'might be'; at the foolish hope that one day she would finally give herself to him and allow herself to be loved.
And he did love her.
Her loved her so very deeply.
But love wasn't enough without the promise of a something more; without the hope of a future or dreams to be shared.
'Love' in itself just wasn't enough.
It was going to kill him to leave her, he knew that, yet if he stayed it would only be to endure a slow lingering death.
He would rather face the reality of their tragic situation now than allow his heart to hope and dream that the next day, perhaps things would be different.
Their fight that night had been yet another soul destroying battle in the war that their relationship had become.
And no matter how much his heart wanted to stay and fight, his spirit no longer had the strength to do so.
He had pleaded with her to talk to him, to tell him why she would not allow him into her heart. He'd wanted to know who had hurt her so badly that she couldn't even allow herself the possibility of happiness.
And as always she had remained silent.
Her deafening…heart wrenching…infuriating… silence.
Martin stared at her sleeping form and felt something inside his own heart breaking for her, for what she was about to throw away, for the pain he knew he would cause her.
He had wanted to be different from the others, he had wanted to nurture and warm her lifeless heart, gently healing the scars built up around it so that she may love once again…perhaps even love him.
'Is it some hurt from long ago
That makes it so hard to let your feelings show
Is it the ghost of who you used to be
That makes you so afraid to bare your soul to me'
The usual brilliance in his eyes was gone and as he bent to kiss her lips one last time.
This was the last time he would ever know her kiss and he wanted to remember how her lips felt against his, wanted to remember the sweet and addictive taste that was uniquely Samantha.
He picked up his clothes from the back of the chair in her room and slowly dressed, remembering the first time they had been in this room together…in this bed.
He had loved her even then, had made love to her; to her it had merely been sex.
He supposed that was still sadly true.
'You're so - easy to look at
You're so easy to hold
It's so easy to touch you - but so hard to let go
It's so easy to want you - that I can't get enough'
'Tell me why do ya have to be…
Why do ya have to be so hard to love?'
His eyes never leave her face as he walks hesitantly out of her room and resolutely out of her life.
He does not hear her quiet sob or see the single tear trickle down her cheek as she watches him leave her.
There are images and memories all around him as he stands in her living room and pictures them sitting on the sofa just watching television together, their arms encircled tightly around each other.
He sees himself standing cooking in the kitchen, Samantha perched on the counter top with a glass of wine in her hand.
He sees her.
He sees her...
She is standing in the doorway of her bedroom, her hand outstretched to him, beckoning him to her with tears in her eyes and fear in her voice.
"Martin?"
He cannot bring himself to say the words; he cannot bring himself to tell her he is leaving her.
But she already knows, she understands that she has finally won.
She knows he won't fight her anymore; he doesn't have the strength or the will.
"Martin… I… I want to talk," her voice is small and anxious.
He sighs at his inability to resist her and once again curses the small wave of hope washing over his heart.
"I'm listening," he tells her
And just as always he follows her, all traces of free-will erased by one gaze into her haunting eyes.
She lies down on the bed and waits for him join her, instantly seeking out his embrace, her fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls her violently shaking body into his chest.
The seconds tick by and he feels once again cheated by her silence.
And then a small, childlike voice finally cuts through the darkness...
"My father left when I was three…"