Come_Undone

by Joliemoi


AUTHOR: Joliemoi
FEEDBACK: allthings_joliemoi@yahoo.de
TITLE: Come Undone
CATEGORY: SRR
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters, everybody in here belongs to Chris carter and 1013.


*Burning tears scorch my flesh and melt my soul Fading dreams consume my mind and leave me to unfold

Once a seeker of truth and love
Now a fallen angel from a land above*


COME UNDONE

"Dana, I'm sorry, I..." She draws away and my hand on her cheek suddenly feels very wrong. I let my arm drop down to my side and stare at her, hoping she will simply vanish into thin air, leaving me to wake up in my bed, alone. This has to be a dream, I tell myself, this cannot be happening.

But is is and this is not a dream and the only bed I see is hers and it will be Monica who will wake up in it, not me.

"Dana..." My name sounds like a plea, like she's begging forgiveness for the words that will follow, the words that I've been afraid of all along. My eyes squeeze shut for a moment and when I open them her gaze is still on me, heavy and intense. I try to speak but my mouth is parched and the words come out as a whisper.

"God, I'm so sorry, Mon..."

She interrupts me mid-sentence. "No, Dana, I am. I'm sorry if you...I didn't mean to...". Her voice trails off and for the first time she looks away, up over my head and I have to fight the innate urge to turn around. There is no one here but the two of us, I know that. Instead my eyes drop down to her collarbone, and tracing its outline I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her there.

"I'm not...I...I never meant to...for this...Dana."

My name sounds like a plea again and the desperation in her voice makes me look up at her. Tears are streaming down her face but she seems oblivious to them. Or maybe she just doesn't care. I think I should be the one crying, but the tears won't come and I'm suddenly jealous of her unabashed display of emotions.

"I'm sorry if I let you believe we could be anything more than..." she stumbles over the last word, "...friends." Her eyes meet mine again, glowing embers damped only by her still pouring tears. I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.

"Dana, I'm not gay."

I close my eyes to the vertiginous room. Blood is pumping hard in my ears, but I still hear the soft "I never meant to hurt you" emerging from her lips. Fuck this, you just did, Monica! I want to scream at her but my walls are already back up and in place again so I just nod and open my eyes. A storm is raging inside of me, pushing and tugging on my insides, but my skin is impenetrable and my eyes are mirrored glass. She will never know the full impact of her disclosure, she will never know how much I have fallen in love with her and I will never tell her about how her face haunts me at night and her scent intoxicates me when we're at work.

The perpetual looks she has been giving me, the things she said to me, the comforting touches, all that was not supposed to be anything more than simple care for a friend. Monica should come with a warning that says: She's not in love with you, she just wants to take care of you.

I need to get out of this apartment, as far away from her as possible. I cannot let her see me fall apart. I will not let my guard down once again.

"I have to leave." The words fall like ice from my lips. I wait for a response, but her quiet compliance says it all.

I've almost made it to the door when I realize there's one more thing I need to know.

"Just...tell me, Monica...you and John...are you..." I can't bring myself to say it out loud, but I need an answer. I need to know, I'm desperate, fighting for something I don't yet understand. Tears are still streaming down her cheeks and I feel the sudden urge ot slap her, tell her that it's me who should be crying.

"It's not been long, Dana...we just recently..."

Her voice cracks and I'm simultaneously repelled and awed by her candor. I swallow the lump in my throat that's threatening to gag me, willing my voice to sound calm and in control when I feel anything but. Instead it comes out as a whisper, breathless.

"Thank you, Agent Reyes." I don't think I'll ever be able to call her Monica again.

The sound of the closing door echoes in the empty hallway, amplifying the feeling of utter desolation that has come over me. I run down the flight of stairs and push open the front door, thirsting for fresh air. Rain is coming down in sheets from the pitch-black sky, but I don't pause. I keep running unitl I reach my car, skidding over the wet pavement in front of it. Getting inside is not an option, the narrow space would only make me claustrophobic. Instead I lean back against the door and lift my head up to the sky, eyes closed against the rain. The pelting water drenches my clothes but I am indifferent. My body is on fire and finally I can feel tears scorching my face. They mix with the rain until I can't tell them apart, until I feel my knees weaken and my insides tighten and my body succumbing to the pain. I bend over, clasping at my stomach and then I let go. I brake into a crying fit, glad for once that there is rain and darkness to hide my weakness.

When the fit passes I slightly open my eyes, only to see Monica's legs in front of me. I think I'm going to faint but I don't and for a fleeting moment I harbour the hope that she lied to me before. But she didn't I realize when I rise up to my full hight and see her holding the jacket I didn't even know I forgot. She hands it to me, her action seeming circumspect, like she is afraid she might break me. I know she can't because I already am.

The streetlight a few feet away illuminates her frame and I look up into her eyes, but the eyes that have comforted me time and time again are sullen now. She is hurting for me, I know that. Her face has lost its warmth and the usual radiance underlying her features has disappeared. She opens her mouth, but closes it without saying a word. Giving me a heartwrenching look she simply turns around and walks away.

I watch her disappear in the building and realize she was right. There is nothing left to say. I fell apart in front of her, but she din't catch me. She never will.

THE END
 

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