By ScamBeliever
scambeliever@hotmail.com
 

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, sure. :)
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: VA, M POV
KEYWORDS: MSR
SPOILER WARNING: Cancer arc
SUMMARY: An ill-timed confession.
DISCLAIMER: CC, let me play.  Not making any profit I
promise.
FEEDBACK: If it's not too much to ask... :)
 

Grief Talking
--------------
 

You never thought something like this would happen, did you?
Who would've thought that it would not be the cold, masked
men of the consortium, not some monster that was hidden from
the eyes of man for ages, not a psychopath on a rampage, not
even the alien apocalypse you felt in your repeatedly kicked gut
that was coming, but a common disease that never seemed fatal
and dangerous until now, might be the one that would end her
life.

You were furious.  You still are.  You felt cheated.

In your strange mind, it seemed better if she was going to die
because of your work.  At least she died looking for the truth.
For you, that was the only acceptable reason for death.  Because
you would rather die doing the same.

So you didn't accept it and you told her so.  She won't die.  Not
if you can help it.  If people knew how much you believed that,
they would shake their heads sadly and offer comfort to her.
Denial was a well-known sickness that infected the people
closest to the ones who had the actual physical illness.  The
ones who were hit hard were the ones who were oblivious.

You were so blind that you couldn't see past your nose.

And you kept your eyes closed, ignoring the blatant evidence of
her sickness.  It helped when she ignored it too.  Sort of.  She
didn't want to be treated like an invalid and you didn't.  That's
why she worked as long as she did.  Both of you, not daring to
acknowledge her numbered days.

For you, nothing changed.  Her revelation never happened and
there was no sickness.

Monsters were still chased, aliens were still waiting to be
found, and the syndicate was still manipulating the world.  And
she worked beside you, every step of the way that it was so
easy to forget what was very wrong.

You didn't see her frame becoming gaunt, her white skin
turning ashen, the measured breathing she took after an
exhausting chase, not venturing out of her home after a tiring
case.  She told you she was fine and you accepted it, if not
believed her.

It was like a flu that can be taken cared of with a couple of 500
mg pills branded Resistance and Disbelief.  Dosage is once a
day.  Twice, if you see her falter in any way while working.  If
her nose bled, you cut the day short and go home.

You stuck with what worked.  And so far, that routine did.

Until her mother asked you to stay with her as a favor.

You weren't supposed to hear the argument they had behind her
slightly ajar hospital door.  She was making it quite clear that
she hadn't wanted you to sub for her mother.

Of course that stung, making you almost turn around and try to
think of a believable emergency excuse to tell her mother for
not showing up.  But then you caught the next string of rather
weak reasons why she did not need to bother you.  If her
mother was going to take off for a couple of hours, she can
leave her unsupervised.  It wasn't like she had the strength to
leave the room.

It wasn't just you.  It could be anybody who would be willing to
take care of her.  It just happened to be you at the moment.
Still, being a part of 'anybody' still hurt.  You were just
anybody.

If her last words hadn't been bitterly delivered and she was
slowly dying in front of your eyes, what she said would have
made you smile any other day.  But her meaning was harsh to
your ears and you winced instead.  You slowly walked towards
the row of chairs at the hallway and slumped pitifully on one
directly facing her door.
 
When her mother finally emerged, she was surprised to see you
there, immediately mindful if you heard the discussion inside.
You smiled innocently as you stood up and she visibly relaxed.
She needed a break badly and she was not up for an
uncomfortable explanation for whatever he might have heard.

She smiled her thanks and told him her daughter was up.  You
nodded and watched her until she was out of sight.  Taking a
deep breath, you pushed the door open.

You caught her ineffectively trying to get herself comfortable,
while her tense body shifted this way and that.  She stopped at
her wriggling when she saw you.  You smiled as you greeted
which she didn't return, but merely nodded.

No, it was not going to be easy.

You weren't as ready as you thought you would be so you made
an excuse to go to the cafeteria.  She didn't want anything so
you were able to duck out of there in a hurry.

Several minutes later, you came back and found her asleep.
You hesitated by the door for a second, and then went in as
quietly as you could.

She did not wake even when you dared to sit on the bed near
her elbow.  It was the first time you were this close to her since
she started her treatments.  When you visited, you either sat on
the chair or just stood.

You didn't know why you sat so near now, when every
evidence of her illness was horrifyingly more real up close.
Not even your personal prescription can dull the pain.  You just
stared, letting reality peel away your denial, torturously
skinning yourself layer by layer.

She finally stirred eventhough you were so still and hardly
breathed.  You watched as her eyes blinked open, her head
jerking slightly as she tried to find her bearings.  Her eyes
darted to your hovering presence and you knew she was startled
by your closeness.  She caught you watching and you didn't
look away for once.

It wasn't like you but you kept watching.  And she tried to hide
the fact that she was unnerved by you, sitting up and fluffing
her pillow, making a conscious effort to ignore your close
proximity and careful observation.  Maybe she's hoping that
you'd take the hint and look away.  Even for just a second.

You conceded and looked down at your hands, letting her raise
back her walls up until she was more comfortable.

"How are you doing?" you asked, still finding your hands
interesting.

You already knew what she was going to say but you didn't
expect her hand to cover yours.  You looked up to her face and
found that she was waiting for you to look at her before she
answered.

"I'm doing fine." she asked.  What were the odds she'd say
anything else?

Then her eyes softened and tried to smile.  It wasn't so forced
and the effort clenched your heart.  You knew she was trying to
ease your worry and you couldn't help admire the way she'd
still think of your well being when she was the one fighting for
her life.

"How are *you* doing?" she asked as she weakly squeezed
your hand.  You covered it with your other hand before
answering.

"Despite the cafeteria not having iced tea, I'm okay Scully."
You congratulated yourself because her smile deepened, her
lips thinning as it widened slightly.

You smiled in return, noting to yourself it wasn't forced too.  At
first.

But your eyebrows started to meet at a sad peak and the corners
of your mouth battled to go down.  Before you ducked your
head, you saw her expression become sympathetic as she
watched your own walls crashing down before her eyes.

You were both shocked at your breakdown.  You wanted to
fight the emotion, maybe try to turn it to anger if you couldn't
just stop it.  But fear outweighed everything else.  Blinding
phobia of separation, loss and solitude.
 
God, you don't want to be left alone again.

You felt her gather you close and you sank into her embrace,
seeking shelter from the traumatic collapse of your conviction
that she could beat her sickness.  Or that *you* can beat it.

You felt yourself being rocked, small hands stroking the hair at
the back of your head and the length of your spine.  You shook
hard with every breath you took, trying to restrain your cries.
She held you tight, trying to control your shaking, trying in vain
to soothe the wound you knew neither she nor the God she
prayed to could heal.

"I love you."

Both of you froze at the words, shocking you both for the
second time.  It just came out and you wished she didn't hear it.
But she became momentarily rigid and you knew there was no
way you could take it back.

She pulled away slowly to see your face.  For the longest
second, she just watched you and did not say anything.  Then
you felt her hand against your jaw and her thumb stroking your
cheek.

"I love you too."  And then she gave you a smile of gratitude,
mutual feelings and understanding.

Only she misunderstood.

And you didn't know which drove the rusted nail harder square
in your chest, that she meant it in a different way or that she
didn't know you meant it in a different way.

And since you knew you said the right thing at exactly the
wrong time, you left it at that.

You barely remembered walking out of her room, walking
down the hall, leaving the building, and getting inside your car.
As soon as you slammed the door shut, the world closed in so
fast and you clutched at the steering wheel, trying to breathe
evenly.
 

Because you knew you were a coward.  You were not brave
enough to correct her.

That your words were not just grief talking.
 

********************

END Grief Talking
 

At least this wasn't as heavy as "Believe."  Well...that's what I
think.  Would love to know your thoughts on this.

Thank you for letting me share a piece of my X-Files insanity.
:)