Not Enough By RocketMan lebontrager@harding.edu Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. Summary::::POST-Pine Bluff Variant ~~~~~ Not Enough ~~~~~ They've hurt him again. Somehow, they can always twist his innate goodness into a horrible weakness, bringing others down with him. Somehow, they've hurt him again. I wish I could stop it; I wish I could take him away from all of this because I know now that it's never going to stop. They're never going to leave him alone. Never. They've hurt him again, and again, I'm here to pick up his pieces, reassemble them, and hope, pray, plead, for him to find himself. Find that wellspring of passion that almost runs dry in him, and somehow, somehow, make it overflow. I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm sorry they keep doing this to you. ~~~~~ The room is dark, his blinds closed tightly, shadows setting up camp in the farthest reaches of the floor. He is curled on his couch, lips pressed tightly together, eyes squeezed shut, as if the more withdrawn he appears, the more this can't touch him. But it has touched him. Everywhere, the signs of it are on him. In the way his back hunches slightly as I walk closer, in the lines around his mouth and eyes as he wishes I would leave, in the flexing of his fingers as he remembers unconsciously, the feel of a gun. I slip into his darkness willingly, coming to his couch with some holy purpose, believing myself to be the good one here, the one that will not give up, that will keep him going again. His hand flinches and I watch his white bandaged finger, the way it twitches at my movement, the tiny cracks of pain streaking his face. "You need some Advil Mulder," I say, taking his hand gently in mine. His eyes flicker and he pulls away. This is hurting him, but for some reason, he's using it as his punishment. "Why are you hurting yourself, Mulder?" He shakes his head and closes his eyes. Suddenly, my courage, my strength and committment falls through and all I want to do is take him away from this, away from the men who would screw up his entire life and make him feel responsible for the crap in everyone else's. "Mulder, why do you keep letting them do this to you?" I whisper, and immediately wish I could take back my words. That wasn't what I meant at all. He turns his face away, the sudden flash of betrayal making me ache for him, for me, for what my careless words have done to him. I soothe his back with a trembling hand, running my fingers along his spine, hoping to somehow use our unspoken communication to tell him I didn't mean it. He pulls away. It is his betrayal, pain for pain. I'm not letting him do this to us this time. "No, Mulder. I need you to stop this," I say softly, and reach once more for him, taking his shoulders into my arms, hoping that my courage will last a bit longer. He jerks up and away from me, then rubs his hands through his hair and sits up on the couch. "Scully, I think you should go," he says and his words have no threat in them, only promise. I'm not letting this come bewteen us again. It always does. His guilt, my guilt over not knowing how to deal with his guilt, his pain over pushing me away when he wants me so much, my pain because I let him flounder, I let him stay in pain. I take one hand and bring his knuckles to my lips, then kiss his bandaged finger with soft, light touches. "Scully. . . you'd better leave before this goes beyond. . .rational." I want to slap sense into him, into myself, because even as I agree with his logical words, even as I nod and think he is right, we are moving closer, drawing together and hungering. "I don't want to be rational. They're not rational anymore. They hurt you for no reason, they set you up to die, and I can't, I won't let this all go unsaid anymore. Not when the unrational is happening every day. Happening all the time and it might take you away from me." I guess this is something he's never even guessed at before. I hate the men that created him like this, yet I rejoice because this is the Mulder I love, this is the man that makes me feel needed, special. "You have to know, Mulder, you have to." He shakes his head and pulls his hurt hand away from mine, then stands. "Scully, I don't know what you're talking about." I stare at him. He knows what I am saying; he knows exactly what I feel, and he feels the same. The same. And he's denying it. He's refusing to let me do this for him, for us. I bite my bottom lip, then turn my head away. I hear his soft sigh, the sound telling me more than anything, that he wants this, wants this and thinks it's wrong. I feel my rationality slipping back, just as Mulder knew it would. I shake my head, then stand up beside him. Taking one hand, I kiss his fingertips, then release him from my grasp. I hate how they've hurt him again. I'm sorry Mulder. I'm sorry that my love isn't enough. I turn and walk from his apartment, feeling no warmth, no thought enter into me. Only the cold knowledge that I can never be with him, never comfort him, never give him the absolution he seeks. I am his guilt, I am his eternal sin. I'm sorry Mulder. ~~~~~ end adios RM