Series: Emily Dickinson 3 Title: The Letting Go Author: RM >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are the property of CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. Emily Dickinson owns her own poetry Please read ED 1-2 to understand. ~~~~ The Letting Go ~~~~ After great pain, a formal feeling comes-- The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs-- The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet mechanical, go round-- Of Ground, or Air, or Ought-- A Wooden way Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone-- This is the Hour of Lead-- Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow-- First--Chill--then Stupor--then the letting go-- #341 Emily Dickinson ~~~~ From the window, Scully watched him walk slowly down the street and into his car, limbs easy and smooth, his gait sure and confident. The feelings in her had settled, had come to some kind of peace within her, so that she wasn't jumpy, she wasn't agonizing. Some things needed to become so heavy on the heart, so very oppressing, because it would force them to talk, force them to find some kind of common ground again. They had found a bit more than that. It was as if she had been freed, like her soul was suddenly released from shackles she had not known were forged. Her 'mind-forged manacles' as Blake spoke of, were not formed from society or death, but of certain lies she had told herself from the very beginning. Lies that Mulder had broken with one step forward. She hadn't even realized. . .all they needed to do was *try* and the bonds would be broken. She felt numb now. So numb, but in a good way. Numb to pain, to hurt, to the coldness that could crack and freeze her entire being. She was numb to those things, floating in this peacefulness that he had helped to create. Dana pressed her cheek to the window, waving at him when he glanced back up to her, smiling when he winked, and sighing when he got in his car and started the engine. She stood there quietly as he pulled away, content. The window warmed beneath her skin and she pulled back, rubbing her numbed cheek with brittle fingers. She almost couldn't understand it. Everything was so still. So desperately silent, like a tomb, or a lioness hunting softly, carefully. She smiled and moved to her couch, catlike, eyes gleaming. Sinking down, she decided she liked that. A lion, prowling, so quiet and careful, licking her lips as she waited. She wondered why Mulder had left, why he had let her be alone with her thoughts, especially since he'd had her in a very yielding place, a slippery slope that she could be easily pushed over. But he had left. Waiting, too? She leaned back against the armrest, snuggling further into its soft embrace, wishing somewhat that they were Mulder's arms, not the couch's. She toed the blanket off the back of the sofa and pulled it loosely around herself, letting her eyes slip shut. Such a funny feeling. This floating. Nothing wrong or right or happening, nothing entering into her head, nothing keeping her bottled tight, nothing keeping her scattered. She felt more free than she had since the very end with the cancer. Lying in that hospital bed, knowing she would die, as certainly as she'd known anything else in her life, and opening her eyes to see Mulder there. . .she had felt this same floating, this stillness to her entire being. As if all her regrets, all her fears, all her loves and losses and lives, were suddenly waiting, still and complete, waiting for the end. What would be her end with Mulder? Love and babies. . .somehow, no. Something complex, she knew, expected no less. But that complexity did not frighten her, was not causing her to think think think about all the things they'd have to do or have to say, and it would not become too difficult. She knew what she wanted, and she had it. She had it. That was the letting go of her control, she thought. That one revelation was the final release of the clutch she had around her life, it was the abolishment of a chokehold, a yoke, over her soul. And that was where the floating peacefulness was coming from. She knew she would have this for eternity, that no matter. . .no matter. No matter. She sighed and closed her eyes, relaxed. Her door clicked, but she did not open her eyes, could not open them. She knew that he had come back, that this funny waiting feeling was for more than the soul deep contentment growing in her, but also it was a waiting for him. There was a breath against her cheek, and a soft sigh. Then she felt Mulder's fingertips brush her eyelids. "Mm. . ." She opened her eyes, opened them to see his gentle smile, his dark shadows spilling along her form. "Scully?" She nodded. "I. . .I want to stay. . ." he whispered, as if the thought were so strange and alien, so fascinatingly wonderful, that he had no idea how to react to his own words. She nodded. That slippery slope again, and here she was, sliding on down, Mulder holding onto her. She pulled her feet up and he sat down, then leaned far back, taking her feet again. "Sleep, Scully." She looked at him, head cocked. "Aren't you tired?" He shook his head, a look of more than exhaustion crowding his features. "Just sleep." She wanted to force him to talk, but shrugged and drew up her feet, turning on the couch so that her head rested in his lap. He placed soft fingers in her hair, then stroked her ear with the pads of his thumbs, dizzying her into sleep. "Mulder?" "Hm?" "Don't think," she said, and let her eyes close. He nodded and tried not to. She felt herself let go. ~~~~ end adios RM ~~~~~~~~~~ "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." --Matthew 5:16 ~~~~~~~~~~ http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/5007/ Come check out my web page ~~~~~~~~~~ also: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Comet/3883/rocketmm.html for my Recommendations