Post ep Per Manum
What is a miracle? Is it something we can reach out and touch? Is it tangible enough to even recognise?
To understand its power; its majesty? Or do miracles happen every day only to pass us by? Are we too blind to see them?
I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could believe Mulder as he holds me gently against him as I cry these bitter, angry tears; tears that have been so long in coming and that now take my breath away with the sheer effort it takes to cry them at all.
It’s so long since I cried like this, so long since I allowed myself to dissolve in to pieces in front of him. I try to remember when I last felt this hollow, this empty, but I just can’t. The effort is too much for my bruised senses right now and I’m aware of nothing else but the feel of his arms as they tighten around me.
His whispered words reverberate around my head and even though I know he means well, that he would never intentionally hurt me, his words pierce me like needles to my skin, needles that have seemed to govern my very existence over the last few desperate months.
Never give up on a miracle Scully
He means to comfort me. To take away the sadness I saw reflected in his beautiful hazel eyes. But I don’t believe in miracles the way I once did, I don’t even want to believe anymore. Because belief brings with it false hope; hope that I am finding more and more that I just can’t continue with, the past seven years having been a never ending emotional roller coaster ride of desire and disappointment, everything I once imagined life would be cruelly torn away from me.
And for what?
A handful of answers balanced against a hundred questions just isn’t enough anymore. It’s not enough to justify what we have been through together, not enough to justify what has been taken from us.