From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 13 May 2001 14:52:08 -0000
Subject: "In Our Most Precious Hour" by Starrlyte
Source: revision

Reply To: Starrlyte1013@aol.com


"In Our Most Precious Hour."
      -That I am not alone-

Author:  Starrlyte

Rating:  G, PG, R?  does it matter?

Summary:  Beautifully sweet, scully point of
view.  About truth and light, and our most
precious hour.

Spoilers:  Oh yeah within, without baby :)

Disclaimer:  You know the drill, all things X
belong to CC and 1013 productions.  IM not making
shi-caca for any of this so please be kind.

Authors notes:  Basically the best way to read this
heartfelt peice, is to listen to "Scully's theme" by
the wonderfully amazing Mark Snow.  Listen to
it while reading, it makes it all the more powerful.
I'm also not sure how many stories I have written
now, but this was possibly the easiest to write.
I sat down at 8 o'clock this evening and the
words just began to flow as my 2 year old was
watching Toy Story 2 for I do believe the 10th 
time in 3 days.  So here it is, finished one
hour later, and that's formatting and all:) 

    "Out of the darkness comes a great light.  It 
dawns upon us at our most precious hour, that we
may not be alone."-  me.

   I search in vain.  The hopelessness that fills 
my heart begins to invade my mind.  I want to 
believe in so many things.  That Mulder is out 
there, that he will return to me.  That the child 
with which i bear, springs forth from the endless 
love that which was so new.  They have taken so much 
from me that I feel I have nothing left to give to 
this little life that flourishes in the warmth of my 
womb.  How could I have nothing left?  I feel the 
tears burn at my eyes as I begin yet another night 
without a careful phone call, or a gentle knock at 
my door.  We are all alone in this universe of 
infinite possibilities.  We rush around, desperatly 
trying to grab ahold of something that can fill us, 
something that can make us whole.  And when we find 
it, we cling to it so tightly that it stings us and 
we begin to fear it.  We understand that to be alone 
is inevitable and so we hold on with all the feircness 
of life until it is ripped from us at our most 
precious hour.  And in the end, we are once 
again...alone.

    I understand this as i understand many things. 
So, I continue on with the promise of a new life. 
A life that will never know its better half.  A man 
who gave everything he could ever wish to give, to me.  
But I expected this of him, secretly I did.  I revelled 
in the thought that one person could care so completely, 
that one man could love me as he did.  But what amazes 
me the most, is how much I loved him.  How much I still 
love him.  He fades from me, ever so slowly and I fear 
this more than anything.  I have grown accustomed to 
sharing space with someone else.  I have become used 
to another man speaking my name.  The name that was 
only his to speak. As I go about day to day, doing the 
job the best way I know how, I feel him slip from my 
fingers.  I am surrounded by the world, yet I am alone.

    Time slips by in much the same way sands shift 
during a wind storm.  The emtiness is a powerful 
calm.  I breathe slowly focusing on the one thing 
that can never leave my mind.  The sound of his voice.  
Waves wash over me pushing life to its final destination.  
I close my eyes against the fire.  I feel the pulling 
and I am going along.  Tears fall onto my tired cheeks 
and i clench my fists against the truth.  The truth 
that I will never find him, that I will forever be alone.  
I cry out at the utter unfairness of it and then, as if 
a switch has been flicked somewhere, there is life.  


    I look into her eyes and see bits of myself.  
The innocence, the beauty, the utter peaceful nature 
that is hers.  She is all that I had ever hoped to be.  
But mostly, she frightens me.  Such a tiny fragile 
being.  It is hard to describe what scares me the 
most about her.  The truth that I see hidden in her 
eyes?  Or the fear that she senses in mine?  I know 
that we should be connected, that I should feel so 
connected.  Should I be guilty that I am not?  I just 
cannot grasp ahold of something that can fill me so 
completely.  I'm afraid that If I hold on too tight, 
it will hurt.  That it will be ripped from me in 
its most precious hour.  I just can't take that chance 
again.  Tears flow as I touch her, as I run my fingers 
along her tiny hands.  I want to believe in so many 
things.  But mostly, I want to believe that I am not 
alone.