She knew the size of this man's heart, knew its scope and weight, knew its dreams like she knew her own. He was her parity bit, her decoder ring, the only language she understood anymore. His palm was warm on her back and she imagined his touch glowed red against her skin like a Kirlian rainbow in the shape of his hand.
Sighing, she curled herself around him where he sat next to her, creating some mystical symbol formed with the two of them, with her skepticism and his wonder and all the things that were shared in the space between them.
"Scully," he whispered.
"I can't have children."
"I know," he said, and it seemed his heart was breaking in his voice.
"It's okay," she said, because she wanted it to be okay. She was tired of living under its weight, tired of pretending this hadn't happened to her. She wanted it spoken, understood between them so they could put it to rest. She could not have children. She could not have his children.
He touched her cheek. "It's not okay."
As an infertile woman who's only child was conceived through IVF, and who just found out she'll never have another child (by any means), this passage just really resonated with me. And, also, it's perfect.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winterfish
no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 01:37 pm (UTC)its dreams like she knew her own. He was her parity bit, her decoder
ring, the only language she understood anymore. His palm was warm
on her back and she imagined his touch glowed red against her skin like
a Kirlian rainbow in the shape of his hand.
Sighing, she curled herself around him where he sat next to her,
creating some mystical symbol formed with the two of them, with her
skepticism and his wonder and all the things that were shared in the
space between them.
"Scully," he whispered.
"I can't have children."
"I know," he said, and it seemed his heart was breaking in his voice.
"It's okay," she said, because she wanted it to be okay. She was tired of
living under its weight, tired of pretending this hadn't happened to her.
She wanted it spoken, understood between them so they could put it to
rest. She could not have children. She could not have his children.
He touched her cheek. "It's not okay."
As an infertile woman who's only child was conceived through IVF, and who just found out she'll never have another child (by any means), this passage just really resonated with me. And, also, it's perfect.
Dryad, posting from work!