TITLE:  Marathon


AUTHOR:  Susanne Barringer


EMAIL:  sbarringer@usa.net


ARCHIVE:  Anywhere okay with all headers attached.


CATEGORY:  VA


KEYWORDS:  Mulder/Scully UST, post-ep


RATING:  G


SPOILERS:  Through Millennium


SUMMARY:  Post-kiss fic for Millennium.  "Of all the thirty-six


alternatives, running away is best." -- Chinese Proverb


DISCLAIMER:  Characters and scenarios borrowed from 1013, Fox, Chris


Carter.  No infringement intended.





THANKS to Sue for endless patience, but slapping me around when I


need it.





________





Marathon


by Susanne Barringer








I am running.  Away from you, from what I feel, from what we are.  I


do not plan to stop. 





Two years ago, maybe even one, I would not have run.  Back then, my


love for you had grown uncontrollably, my passion for you was at its


peak, my feelings simple and unadorned.  I would have stood and faced


you, faced myself, put my arms around you and loved you.  I remember


only vaguely our confrontation in your hallway, before a bee turned


it inside out.  My ordeal has left the memory a hazy dream, but the


one thing I remember with certainty is that I did not plan to run. 


That night, I would not have run from you.  





Now, my love has deepened more than I thought possible, grounding


every breath I take.  The desperate edges of passion have dulled with


time into a chronic ache, difficult to distinguish from all the pain


of my life, from the losses which have kept me distant from myself. 


The feelings are painful and complex, never sure, easier to lock up


in mental cages than let free to roam.  My needs are different than


they were when I could consider standing before you and letting you


penetrate me. 





Since your return from madness, I have had to run faster to


outdistance you.  I feel you behind me, gaining ground, propelling me


forward.  Just a few weeks ago, we stood in your hallway again, and


you told me a tie goes to the runner.  I was so relieved that you


were alive that I could barely stand there and look at you, your


presence a reminder of what I almost lost.  Your eyes were wide open,


your love worn like a banner.  The words were honest truth on my


part, and your words an honest brush against my soul.  





I saw what was in your eyes after the words were said.  I kissed you


to stop it, pulling you down to lay my love on your forehead as if


you were a child.  I touched you, loved you, then walked away.  





Last night, I watched the new millennium enter with festive fanfare


on television--and nothing but silence between us.  I thought how in


another time I would have stepped over to kiss you, used this


once-in-a-lifetime moment for my lifetime. 





You caught me off guard.  I turned to see what you were about to say


and you were there, your lips across mine in a remarkable instant.  I


froze, immediately contemplating my escape.  Just a New Year's kiss,


but I saw in your eyes that I was lying to myself.  Then there was


that goofy grin and I knew that I had been caught, that you would do


it again if I did not look away.  We walked together from the


hospital, but I had already stepped away from you.  I looked away,


stepped away, then stayed away.  





I keep on running.





It is too late for me to consider staying.  I am too deep, so deep


there is nothing to do but drown.  My drive lies elsewhere.  My one


uncontrollable, all-consuming need is to keep you alive.  I feel that


now more than anything else, more than I need you.  Too many recent


near-misses have diverted my direction, leaving fear in the holes in


my heart and images of you splayed out before evil, waiting for me to


help you.  I cannot love you and save you all at once. 





So I run.  I have a dozen reasons why, although maybe none that you


can understand.  I will keep running until my legs give out, my heart


gives in, my body and soul deny me.  





Let me run until I stumble, dropping spent and bruised onto the


pavement.  Let me run until the need to run is exhausted and my


passion sprouts jagged and sharp once again, so distinct from pain


that it defines me, then gives me the strength to pick myself up.  





Let me run until I fall.  When I rise to stand and face you, it will


be forever.








END


_______





Go ahead:  sbarringer@usa.net





http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dreamworld/2442