From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 6 Dec 2001 19:14:34 -0000 Subject: Morning Breaks by Becka F. Source: direct Reply To: xfgurl@hotmail.com Title: Morning Breaks Author: Becka F. Classification: V Rating: G Spoilers: Nothing Important Happened Today Keywords: Summary: What mornings are like now. Disclaimer: CC's. Not mine. And if you didn't know that by now, then I might as well take Mulder hostage and well ... we just won't go there ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Morning Breaks ~*~*~*~*~*~*~* He wakes up the same way he does most mornings. Completely oblivious for a precious few microseconds before the impact finally hits. And when it does, it slams into him with a force of a thousand freight trains. The realization that he is alone again, waking up to another day in a different place. In a different world. A world without them. He starts these mornings off like any other. Hot shower. Coffee. He never liked coffee. He still doesn't. But he drinks it, anyway. He even cringes when the burning hot liquid slides down this throat. He figures it doesn't matter. He can't really feel anything anymore. His day has been in progress for hours when most people are just starting theirs. He moves around. He changes things. He keeps them guessing. He slowly breaks apart. By the time morning is over, he is somewhere else again. Somewhere where they can't touch him. By the time morning is over, he has thought about them at least once every couple seconds. Wondering how they are. And what they are doing. And how they're managing to keep going. All the while, wondering the same thing himself. ~*~*~*~ She doesn't really wake up in the mornings anymore. Her waking-up process usually involves gradually opening her eyes and blinking numbly. Sometimes she squeezes them shut again, wishing she could be transported back into her dreams. She always dreams of him. Always. Every night, without fail. Even when she wakes up and doesn't remember a thing, she knows he was with her that night. Always, her first instinct is to shoot a glance at that tiny bassinet sitting right beside her bed. He's either asleep and peaceful, or awake and peaceful. To her, he's perfect. To the world, he's incredible. But she tries not to think about that. Instead she thinks about starting her morning. And how increasingly difficult it is becoming with each passing day. In her heart of hearts, she knows she doesn't want to do it anymore. And even though nothing makes her feel more alive than waking up to her baby each and every day, she knows she can't continue on like this. But she knows she has to. For Will. And for Mulder. And for the hope that one day her life will regain whatever normalcy she secretly craves. She knows it will really never happen, and she grins bitterly to herself as she pads into the kitchen to begin her day. She absently goes about the mundane task of feeding herself, and the positively wondrous task of feeding her newborn son. He's all she lives for now. He's her reason for getting up in the morning. Usually she has completed all her necessary tasks by mid-day. She sighs contentedly as her remarkable child dozes in his crib, and glaxnces out of her window at the sun almost at its peak in the sky. And she thinks of him. ~*~*~*~ He wakes up every day to a world still so very new to him. In his eyes, it is the most incredible place. It's enthralling, it's magical, it's overwhelming. It still takes a little while to focus, but it's getting easier. Sometimes when he's scared and not too sure where he is, he lets out a tiny whimper and kicks his legs. And she is there in a heartbeat. He wakes up to the face of his mother every morning - a face that he has come to adore and cherish more than anything. He wakes up feeling loved. He wakes up not having a clue as to the horrors of his world. He wakes up happy. And healthy. And extraordinary. He doesn't know it yet. All he knows is the comfort and warmth of his mother's body, the sweet smell of her skin, and the soft, silky touch of her hair. His mornings start out with breakfast. This is the moment he is closest to his mother, and the happiest. He is happy because he is warm, full, and she is smiling at him. It isn't always like this, and already, he has come to treasure moments like these. ~*~*~* Morning breaks in three different worlds. A father wakes up. A mother wakes up. And a baby wakes up. And although miles apart, two things remain certain in these three worlds. That damn sun that continues to rise each day. And the hope that one day, these three worlds will collide once again. It is this simple hope that keeps them going all day. And then the morning comes. And it begins again. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Writing this reminded me I have to get up early tomorrow morning...is it the weekend yet? Feedback? Right here -----> ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*