Mirakel
Title: Mirakel
Rating: PG
Category: Missing scene, R, A
Summary: Per Manum post-flashback.
in nature that involved only himself and yet her at the
same time.'>
They merely stood together, his forehead pressed against hers, for
long moments, her azure eyes closed in a silent grief, his hazels
beginning to pervade with tears at her customarily hidden
emotions. Words could not describe the intimacy of their situation,
nor would they attempt to.
She'd made the simplest of requests, for him to perform an act feral
in nature that involved only himself and yet her at the
same time. The entreaty in itself was finitely simple but the
circumstances infinitely complicated. But this was something she
couldn't possibly know, he understood.
He opened his eyes slowly and lifted them to watch her, exquisite
features creased with suffering, her brow furrowed, tears slipping
silently down creamy cheeks as she lamented the child she would
never have.
How he wanted to comfort her. To express to her how he felt, and
yet he didn't know how. So he did the only thing he could. He
waited for her to speak.
She drew in breath after shuddering breath, recalling to mind the
words he had spoken only moments earlier. He told her to never
give up on a miracle. She wanted, needed with a passion to believe
him, that by abiding in simple faith could she receive a blessing
from the heavens.
But it wasn't every day that God descended and granted the
requests of barren women. That was a concept she couldn't quite
understand.
Eventually, tears ran dry and she could cry no more. On their own
accord, her eyes opened, and she found him calmly watching her.
Her hands released their hold from around his rough neck and she
gradually pulled away, and took his hands into hers.
"Thank you, Mulder," she whispered so softly that he nearly
mistook it for a mere exhalation, but somewhere he heard her
words, and appreciated their double meaning.
"Welcome Scully," he replied sincerely, still cradling her hands in
his. He sensed that there was something else that she wanted to
say, but he didn't have to pry.
For a moment later, tears filled her sapphire blue eyes again.
"Mulder, I don't understand!" she burst out suddenly, tearing her
hands from his and walking to the couch. She sat down and her
head found a place in her palms.
At an integral loss for words he sat down beside her, leaning
forward slightly to look back into her face. Syllables formed
words, and those very words drifted from his lips and into her
expectant ears, soft sounds uttered gently. "I know, Scully. I
know."
She spoke then, a soft utterance in the still room, an expression
slightly subdued by her tiny hands. "I don't understand why. Who
could be so cruel as to take my children from me?"
Without a doubt, it was a rhetorical question, for they both
wordlessly recognized the answer, either unable or unwilling to
speak it aloud.
She lifted her face, streaked with the ominous trails of tears,
and looked into his eyes, icy blue against warm hazel. Petite hands
fell to her lap, twitching nervously and she uttered, "This was my
last chance for a miracle," as she retreated a second time, walking
to the window, arms clutching her tiny torso.
And in that moment realization dawned on him. She,
in all of her uncertainty, would not believe in miracles of the sort,
and, in turn, was giving up. Unsure of what to do, he slid an
amiable arm around her shaking shoulders. "You can't give up,
Scully."
Her eyes closed and she stifled a tiny smile at his persistent
encouragement. Her fingers moved between them and she laced
her fingers into his lightly. And of its own volition, his coarse hand
rested against her cheek, one thumb barely stroking her skin.
Defiant arousal deftly swept aside any resolve that may have been
swimming in her blood and replaced its insecurities with an
indescribable feeling that she could not quite recognize.
His touch was gentle, a simple gesture of a hand to a cheek, and
yet even something so simple could banish fear and doubt,
penetrating the walls that she had erected around her heart, filling
every drop of blood, every vessel, every beat.
He felt the tremor, however slight, in her face, in the hand that held
his. He noticed how her eyes became dilated, her breathing
speeding up only a little. A frail rush built up inside of his chest. Her
fingers were so warm, traces of wetness from where her tears had
fallen. Her face flushed from crying, or perhaps, he realized, there
was another reason.
He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she allowed herself to
be drawn again to his chest, his arms coming to surround her. Her arms
slid tentatively around his waist, and he knew then that he should
speak.
"Scully, when you asked me to do this for you, and I said I didn't
want it to come between us..."
Her warm finger to his lips silenced him. "Shh..." she chided
gently. "I know." It had already come between them, however, in a
way that neither of them had expected. An open door, now, was
only a simple barrier that stood between them. All they had to do
was walk through.
She took her head away from his warmth and whispered, "I think
I'm going to go lay down now." Her eyes chanced a glimpse at
him, and saw something a mixture of confusion and defeat.
He sighed heavily, a weight resting upon his shoulders. So it had
come between them, and somewhere a door had been closed. "Okay,
well..." he faltered, turning to leave, attempting to keep the
emotion from his voice. "I'd better be going. I'll see-"
Her hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned back to face her.
Her hand slid down and captured his, and he looked down at her.
"Mulder..." she started.
"Scully," he cut her off abruptly. "I said this wouldn't come
between us. But I can't pretend that it hasn't. I can't deny
everything that's happened between us. Not after this."
He looked into her azure eyes, bright with something he couldn't
recognize in her. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth,
and she gave a weak nod. "There's something I wanted to tell you
too."
He reached out to hold her other hand as well, leaning over her.
"What?" he asked lowly.
"I don't want to be alone," she whispered, smiling now, tugging
him towards her.
He needed no further invitation.
*
Rating: PG
Category: Missing scene, R, A
Summary: Per Manum post-flashback.
in nature that involved only himself and yet her at the
same time.'>
They merely stood together, his forehead pressed against hers, for
long moments, her azure eyes closed in a silent grief, his hazels
beginning to pervade with tears at her customarily hidden
emotions. Words could not describe the intimacy of their situation,
nor would they attempt to.
She'd made the simplest of requests, for him to perform an act feral
in nature that involved only himself and yet her at the
same time. The entreaty in itself was finitely simple but the
circumstances infinitely complicated. But this was something she
couldn't possibly know, he understood.
He opened his eyes slowly and lifted them to watch her, exquisite
features creased with suffering, her brow furrowed, tears slipping
silently down creamy cheeks as she lamented the child she would
never have.
How he wanted to comfort her. To express to her how he felt, and
yet he didn't know how. So he did the only thing he could. He
waited for her to speak.
She drew in breath after shuddering breath, recalling to mind the
words he had spoken only moments earlier. He told her to never
give up on a miracle. She wanted, needed with a passion to believe
him, that by abiding in simple faith could she receive a blessing
from the heavens.
But it wasn't every day that God descended and granted the
requests of barren women. That was a concept she couldn't quite
understand.
Eventually, tears ran dry and she could cry no more. On their own
accord, her eyes opened, and she found him calmly watching her.
Her hands released their hold from around his rough neck and she
gradually pulled away, and took his hands into hers.
"Thank you, Mulder," she whispered so softly that he nearly
mistook it for a mere exhalation, but somewhere he heard her
words, and appreciated their double meaning.
"Welcome Scully," he replied sincerely, still cradling her hands in
his. He sensed that there was something else that she wanted to
say, but he didn't have to pry.
For a moment later, tears filled her sapphire blue eyes again.
"Mulder, I don't understand!" she burst out suddenly, tearing her
hands from his and walking to the couch. She sat down and her
head found a place in her palms.
At an integral loss for words he sat down beside her, leaning
forward slightly to look back into her face. Syllables formed
words, and those very words drifted from his lips and into her
expectant ears, soft sounds uttered gently. "I know, Scully. I
know."
She spoke then, a soft utterance in the still room, an expression
slightly subdued by her tiny hands. "I don't understand why. Who
could be so cruel as to take my children from me?"
Without a doubt, it was a rhetorical question, for they both
wordlessly recognized the answer, either unable or unwilling to
speak it aloud.
She lifted her face, streaked with the ominous trails of tears,
and looked into his eyes, icy blue against warm hazel. Petite hands
fell to her lap, twitching nervously and she uttered, "This was my
last chance for a miracle," as she retreated a second time, walking
to the window, arms clutching her tiny torso.
And in that moment realization dawned on him. She,
in all of her uncertainty, would not believe in miracles of the sort,
and, in turn, was giving up. Unsure of what to do, he slid an
amiable arm around her shaking shoulders. "You can't give up,
Scully."
Her eyes closed and she stifled a tiny smile at his persistent
encouragement. Her fingers moved between them and she laced
her fingers into his lightly. And of its own volition, his coarse hand
rested against her cheek, one thumb barely stroking her skin.
Defiant arousal deftly swept aside any resolve that may have been
swimming in her blood and replaced its insecurities with an
indescribable feeling that she could not quite recognize.
His touch was gentle, a simple gesture of a hand to a cheek, and
yet even something so simple could banish fear and doubt,
penetrating the walls that she had erected around her heart, filling
every drop of blood, every vessel, every beat.
He felt the tremor, however slight, in her face, in the hand that held
his. He noticed how her eyes became dilated, her breathing
speeding up only a little. A frail rush built up inside of his chest. Her
fingers were so warm, traces of wetness from where her tears had
fallen. Her face flushed from crying, or perhaps, he realized, there
was another reason.
He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she allowed herself to
be drawn again to his chest, his arms coming to surround her. Her arms
slid tentatively around his waist, and he knew then that he should
speak.
"Scully, when you asked me to do this for you, and I said I didn't
want it to come between us..."
Her warm finger to his lips silenced him. "Shh..." she chided
gently. "I know." It had already come between them, however, in a
way that neither of them had expected. An open door, now, was
only a simple barrier that stood between them. All they had to do
was walk through.
She took her head away from his warmth and whispered, "I think
I'm going to go lay down now." Her eyes chanced a glimpse at
him, and saw something a mixture of confusion and defeat.
He sighed heavily, a weight resting upon his shoulders. So it had
come between them, and somewhere a door had been closed. "Okay,
well..." he faltered, turning to leave, attempting to keep the
emotion from his voice. "I'd better be going. I'll see-"
Her hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned back to face her.
Her hand slid down and captured his, and he looked down at her.
"Mulder..." she started.
"Scully," he cut her off abruptly. "I said this wouldn't come
between us. But I can't pretend that it hasn't. I can't deny
everything that's happened between us. Not after this."
He looked into her azure eyes, bright with something he couldn't
recognize in her. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth,
and she gave a weak nod. "There's something I wanted to tell you
too."
He reached out to hold her other hand as well, leaning over her.
"What?" he asked lowly.
"I don't want to be alone," she whispered, smiling now, tugging
him towards her.
He needed no further invitation.
*