He Can Only Wait For It To End

He cannot keep his eyes from the sky; coloured like a flame as the sun slowly fades away. He can hear her soft call. She will be here; too soon. She is waiting for him.

When she finally arrives, she enters without knocking – he basks in the familiarity – but she doesn't know what to look for. She's fumbling forward without a cause. She takes her place behind him until he finally turns around. He is only now ready to trifle with fate.

"Dana, why are you here?" he speaks without opening his eyes. He already knows the answer.

She stands still, her body trembling slightly, barely visible in the dim light.

"What do you need?" He asks her with simple urbanity; laced with dread.

She doesn't answer until she has his hand in hers. "What if he's gone?"

What if? What if he had never met her? What if she had never met them, either of them, in the first place? What if there was no other choice? What if they could see the future that was so clearly in front of them?

What if this was all that was left? What if…

"I don't know what to do, John." Her words are as gentle as a sigh; they are just as bitter. She uses his first name and he is finally certain.

The edges begin to blur. He has taken the final step. He stops going in circles; this is his time of need.

"What if I don't want to find him?" He has made his last mistake. "Maybe I never did."

He studies her eyes, piercing blue. He can never escape them. They always tell the truth; even when her words can lie.

But she does not waver. She had known, all along. He has to have faith that she knows. Because it has never been definite.

So he draws her closer; one by one. He pulls at the last threads until he can see it in his bare hands. He needs to make this tangible.

All he hears is his own heartbeat, keeping the beat of his thoughts. The articulate tempo; calling to her lost soul. Restlessly awaiting elucidation of the unbidden. He needs her to let him in.

His dreadful captivations play their forbidden game, shredding him at the seams.

Instead, she pulls him in. He feels her breath, moist and warm, staining his cheek. Tempting. There are no words.

When her lips take his, it is not sweet. He is not fooled by the soft tug of her kiss; the harsh taste and distinctive aroma. It crawls deep into the recesses of his heart; blackening the darkness, nurturing the fear.

He wants this to be easy. How long has he been waiting? But he can hear a buzzing in his head as her tongue dances in his mouth. This cannot be, this cannot happen. Is this the price he has to pay?

He chooses to ignore every reflex in his body and mind that wants to push her away. He kisses her with a passion he has never felt before. He has to tell her in his loudest tones. His hands are gentle as they touch her skin. He is terrified that she will shatter, but he knows she is not fragile. Merely delicate; ethereal.

He wants to give her everything that he has left. He's going to do this right. He wants to make this last for as long as he can.

Their twisted enigma continues to entwine as she tempts his intentions. She is asking for what she knows she deserves. His echoes will never be abandoned. She will never let him go, not for a single moment. But what if she lets herself go? Will anyone be able to see the difference?

When you have lost a part of your soul, is judgement still passed?

Her words tumble out, hurried. Whispers feeding the night. She draws her withered silhouette along his body. He is dazed, stumbling over stolen words; they are not hers. Tarnished tears fall; they are too afraid to find out why.

Her fingers twist eagerly into his back, her mouth beckoning him to relent. The need is ferocious. Her raw emotions violently take their hold upon him. Theirs is a bittersweet circumstance, a conflicted harmony. A temporary solution.

He is not sure if that is enough.

"Is this what you want?" He knows it isn't. She hesitates, hoping he will not see that every action is outlined with uncertainty. She is still trembling.

She is not kissing his lips; she is not hearing his words. She is desperately trying to remember.

But he still kisses back. Because he needs an answer; it's now or never.

When she pulls away, he is not surprised. He is not hurt or salvaged. He is not proud or guilty. He is not certain or un-. He is afraid.

But he does understand.

She strides past him, shivering; still alone. A line etched into her fate. The door refuses to make a sound as she closes it. In one smooth motion she shuts him in, locks him out.

Unaware, the world is calmly sleeping. Twilight nourishes as cobalt skies submerge into the dawn.

He is motionless. No trace of moisture can be detected on the lashes of his unopened eyes.

Months later, he stands; numb. He hasn't wasted away; he won't let her be his last hope. He can't replace her, but he is not foolish enough to try. Instead, he stands at their door; a guard no one has asked for. He wonders if anyone even notices. They stare right through him, into another lifetime.

When he sees her at her partner's bedside, clinging to him as if her life depends on it, he knows he has never seen her that happy, he has never seen her that torn.

Because the truth is, he has never seen her the way she is now, when she is with him.

Complete.

This is my first real foray into XF fic, so please be kind. It's not my usual pairing, but I thought I'd give it a try. Please shower me with your concrit and your other lovely reviews. Thanks :)