Can't Cry Hard Enough By RocketMan lbontger@wmcstations.com Disclaimer: The characters of M&S belong to CC and are alive by the genius of Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny. Gracias. "Can't Cry Hard Enough" is by the Williams Brothers. Notes: This is very A, and MSR. Spoilers: Momento Mori Can't Cry Hard Enough < I'm gonna live my life Like every day's the last Without a simple good-bye It all goes by so fast.> Mulder felt the tug on his heart as he watched her face and wondered how such a small, unobtrusive woman could have such an effect on him. It wasn't her smallness, or even her body, or even her brains anymore that made him want to hold her, but just her. Her essence, her lifeforce, or soul or whatever it was called. She was facing the idea bravely, but he could tell by her face that she didn't want to be there, she wanted to be at home in bed, ignoring the world and its pressures. He hated the word cancer now, it made him feel like he would throw up. It made him remember her face as she told him that Penny was dead, that she wasn't going to let it get to her, that she wasn't leaving him if she had any say in it. He loved her for that, for her brave words and hopeful outlook, but in the end, that's all they were -- brave words for a dying soul. How long now? What was the new time estimate now? A few years, one year, six months, a week? Did it matter anymore? She would be leaving him, going away and not coming back, and he would be left alone without her. He couldn't do that. It made him nauseous to think of her desk empty forever, of no petite redhead sitting beside him in their rental, of no frowning face telling him she did not like this latest choice of motel. He couldn't even comprehend not having her to call at night, of her not being there to keep him in line. And he didn't want to. So he wouldn't. What was that famous line from "Gone With The Wind"? I'll think about it tomorrow? Or tomorrow's another day? Well, that's how he thought about it for now. Tomorrow he could deal with it, tomorrow he could come up with a way to keep from dying inside when she left him for good. "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "Do you want to go home, now?" she asked, needing some control somewhere, make him think she was really okay and she would be fine. But he could tell by the funny look in her eyes that she really didn't want him away from her. "No, I'm okay. I want to be here." Flat out lie. Off the charts lie. Hell, no. He didn't want to be here, but he did want to be with her. To be beside her like he promised. "Okay." She sat up in the hard plastic chair, waiting in silence for the doctor to come back and tell her just what the prognosis was. She was scared to death, he could tell, and truthfully, so was he. It was the fear that today could be the day where the cancer pushed through and made it to her brain, or got into her bloodstream and traveled to the rest of her body. It was living like each day could be the last. And he hated it. He wished he could make it all okay again, make it all disappear. He would even trade their time together to make her well. He'd trade the joy of knowing her to make her better, he'd give up his search and the X-Files and everything. She meant that much and more. So why wasn't anything happening? How come no one was coming to him saying things like, I'll help you, but -- (you have to give up the search, you have to stop looking for Sam, you can never see her again, you can never know the truth, you have to sacrifice something important, you have to die) She stiffened and he saw the doctor come close to their waiting room, feeling like a kid again, when you got stuck in an exam room for an hour and the doctor came back and said -- oh, he's sick. And you always thought -- you're kidding! I'm coughing up a lung here and you say I'm sick! You must be joking! He realized his thoughts were rambling and he knew it was from nervousness. The doctor didn't stop at their waiting room, he went to another's. Mulder thanked God. The doctor looked very doomsday. Scully looked to him and saw his fear and suddenly understood the phrase -- smell the fear. She could. She smelled it on him, and on her, and she really didn't like the helplessness it carried in with it. She wanted to say something to calm him, but he was so wound up, one would think he was the one with cancer, the one to die. She realized then, for the first time, that in truth, he was the one that would die. Inside. She shuddered with the weight of that thought. He turned anxious eyes to hers and she shot him daggers. they said. But oh, she did, she did. He leaned forward suddenly and squeezed her hard, as if the strength of his hug could make everything all right. Make it all go away. "Well," came the voice of God. Well, not God, but a doctor, and they thought they were God, so close enough. Especially in this situation. Scully straightened up and Mulder took his arms away from her, but was still close; she could feel his almost suffocating presence. "It actually looks better. You've been having more nosebleeds because the growth is moving, but away from the sinus cavity, closer to the front." Mulder, being so tense that he couldn't focus straight, caught about five words and they were a contradiction in terms. Looks better. Growth is moving. The first he praised God for, the last he tried to ignore. But things like growth moving weren't too keen on being ignored. "What does that mean?" he said. He looked to Scully for the answer. He always looked to Scully for the answer. Her face was relaxed a bit. "It means, Mr. Mulder," came the voice of God, and this time he was willing to concede the point, "that Ms. Scully's cancer has moved out of the danger zone, and into a more operable area." Mulder's mouth dropped open. It was so simple. No giving up his badge, or the X-Files, or Sam. It just decided to move. It was operable. It was almost like cheating. His face broke out into a grin, an uncontrollable grin. Holy sh -- it was operable. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" "Mulder." He looked to her, grinning. "It's not gone, Mulder. Just in a safer spot." He sobered and thought for a moment. "But you can go into the hospital now and get it taken out, before it moves back, right?" She nodded and he squashed her against his chest. "Oh that's great." The doctor went to make a phone call to get her set up for surgery and he couldn't help his grin. ===== What had happened? He couldn't understand it. It didn't fit into his logic, it didn't mesh with everything he had blindly believed. She had slipped away while he wasn't looking. It had moved again, and now she was dead. Dead It rang hollow in him, through the emptiness and he couldn't find a way to make it stop. Dead Why had he thought they would let her go? Had he been so naive to think they would let her be okay, let her have a life back, let him have her? Dead He had stopped thinking, that was all. He hadn't realized she could leave after the good news had been proclaimed. He hadn't stopped to think that if a growth could move one direction, it could just as easily move the other direction. Dead He realized he was crying. Standing outside in the rain like a fool and not thinking. Fool. Dead She was gone and he would now always be a fool, a maverick, something to ignore and hope it went away. Something to make fun of and pity and be disgusted at. Spooky. Wihtout his anchor to reality, a ghost would float free and be tormented in limbo. That was him. Dead He needed her. He needed her. Dead Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Dead I will not accept that, I will not think of it; I will not let my heart be trampled and smashed and shredded and torn to pieces and killed again. Dead NO! Dead No! Dead No. Dead No Dead no........please......no Dead She was dead. Forever without her. Forever. He cried and cried and cried and stumbled back into his apartment and forgot to change out of his wet things and cried and collasped on the couch. And cried. He couldn't cry hard enough. Wet choking sobs that shuddered out of his body and kept coming, harder and harder until he wasn't even breathing, only crying. And it still wasn't enough. He just couldn't let go of her. He just couldn't. He couldn't cry hard enough for her to understand that she shouldn't be dead, that she should be beside him, or away from him, but alive, and it was all his fault. All His Fault. Could she see him now? Could she understand that the tears were for her and did she want to come back? To come back and try again and not waste the moments, not take the last days for granted. Did she know that he had wanted to kiss her all the time? Did she know that he had wanted so much more for her? Did she hear his sobbing and hate him or love him? He had loved her, did she know that? He hadn't told her, but surely she knew, surely her feminine intuition had told her that. Or had she always wondered and been too afraid to say? Oh God, just give me that time back! ===== Mulder yelled and jerked awake. Sweat poured from him in rivers, like a man about to take the polygraph, and knew he was lying. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, the thrashings of a wounded animal. He couldn't catch his breath. He couldn't shake the realness of the dream. He couldn't get the sorrow out of his head or his soul. He thought a part of him had died, just with that dream. "Mulder?" He turned to see her beautiful face and he thought he had never seen a more welcome sight in his whole life. By far the best of the Seven Wonders of the World. He had fallen asleep by her bed at the hospital, before her surgery. He wasn't going back to sleep. He leaned forward and placed his lips to her forehead and soaked in her warmth, her aliveness. If that could be a tangible thing. Aliveness. More tangible than the death in his dream. His warning. "I love you," he said. He did not care if she loved him back. Just that she knew. She was without words. For once. He smiled and closed his eyes, ready to leave it at that. "Mulder!" she said, hitting him to knock him awake. "What?" "That's it? You drop that on me and then fall asleep again?" He cocked his head and looked at her, like he was trying very hard to read all her secrets. And she felt like he could. "What else do I need?" Her face softened and she leaned forward, her hair falling into sofr waves around her face. "A kiss, an affirmation," she said, her eyes so blue. "No, contrary to Madonna's Oscar winning song, I do not believe in the theory 'you must love me'." She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips. "But what if I do?" "I'm just saying it's not required. I can do a fine job of loving all alone, though it's not as fun." She laughed. To him, it sounded like a symphony. Or an excellent, mouth-watering piece of pumpkin pie. If sounds could be things, that is. (Pumpkin pie was the best. Better than chocolate.) "Well, it's good to know you wouldn't have much fun." He let his lips twitch. They itched to kiss her. "Nope. I sure wouldn't. Are you offering to make sure I have fun?" She tilted her head, like she was thinking. Her eyes came to pierce sharply into him. "Mulder, I love you too." He crawled up beside her, ignoring the nurse's earlier warning to let the patient rest. She watched him. He was on all fours, knees making valleys in the mattress, and causing her to fall toward him. "Can I sleep now?" he asked now, humor in her eyes. He laid down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. "This is fun?" she asked, doubting. "For a man who gets about three hours sleep each night and half of it's during Skinner's lectures, yes this is a thrill." "Then sleep away." He closed his eyes. Then they popped open. "Okay, I have affirmation, now how about that kiss?" he said, mischief in his eyes. "I thought you could live without it." "Well, I lied." "To me? You lied to me?" "No, to myself and that's okay." "All right, then. Here's your kiss." Her lips met his for an instant and he felt heat and softness and her and -- She pulled away. "Now sleep, Mulder. You deserve a little fun." He grumbled for a bit and then closed his eyes. He could feel her eyes on him. "You go to sleep, too, Scully." he said. "Why?" "So I can meet you in my dreams." "Mulder --" "Sleep." He didn't want another dream like the one that he had woke to. end. see, not so bad as you thought... adios comments please RocketMan