Title: The Good Fight by agent myers Rating: PG-13 Keywords: DRR Summary: "We've gotta disappear for a little while, I think. 'Til we know it's safe." John says, his eyes never wavering from the road ahead. I stare at him. "What if it's never safe?" Spoilers: "The Truth" Disclaimer: They're not mine. Duh. Feedback: I live for it. tred2@yahoo.com Archive: Just ask me. All individuals and archives that I have previously given permission to are welcome to it. Author's Notes: At the end. Recommended listening: "No Leaf Clover" and "Blitzkrieg" by Metallica. ~~~ The Good Fight by agent myers ~~ The road stretches out before us, narrow and long. The setting sun burns against my right side as I lean against the window. It's cracked open a little. The road is just bumpy enough to keep me awake...as if I could sleep, anyway. I look up at the rear-view mirror, and I can see John's eyes. He's staring blankly ahead at the road, with little idea of where we're going. We're just driving. Running. Escaping. Disappearing. It's been quiet for an hour now, and I'm still too afraid to speak. I don't want to admit to the situation we're in. Every now and then, John looks into the rear view mirror to see if anyone is following, and every time he does, I expect him to see someone. Finally, I sit up, unable to find rest. "Where are we going?" I ask. John hesitates for a moment before replying. "South." Not a destination, just a direction. We've got nothing more than a few duffle bags full of clothes and some money in our pockets. At least we had the forethought to empty our savings accounts before we came down here. The sun will set in an hour, and that's probably a good thing. I wonder if we'll stop and sleep somewhere, or just keep driving. I wonder if we'll make it to our unknown destination, or if "they" will find us first. I wonder where Mulder and Scully are now, if they are safe...and I suddenly feel very alone. I glance over at John. I want him to tell me it's going to be all right, even if it's a lie. I want him to tell me that we're going to get out of this, and go back home, back to our lives; back to the way things were before we knew all of the things we did. I think about Skinner, and even Kersh. A terrible thought crosses my mind. I wonder if they are still alive. I push the thought away. It's hard to believe that we have fought the good fight and lost. This isn't the way things are supposed to happen. The good guys are supposed to overcome...right? But this is the real world, and it's not a good place. A tear falls down my face before I can stifle it. I cry for the injustice in the world, for the unfairness and the misfortune that has come upon us all. It's not supposed to be this way. Finally, John looks over at me. He's tired, and his expression reflects my own. Without saying anything, he reaches across, takes my hand, and squeezes it gently. "What are we doing, John?" I ask. He shakes his head. "We've gotta disappear for a little while, I think. 'Til we know it's safe." John says, his eyes never wavering from the road ahead. I stare at him. "What if it's never safe?" I know I'm not helping the situation by asking these questions, but the words spill out before I can stop them. He sighs heavily. "What if we can't go home?" "Then we can't go home." He replies quickly, harshly. And then he corrects himself, chastising himself. "I'm sorry." he says. "I just don't really know what to tell you. I don't know what we're going to do. I know it's not what you want to hear." He says, casting a sidelong glance at me. No, it's not what I wanted to hear, but it's what I expected. I shouldn't be pressuring him for the answers. "My parents live in Mexico City. We could stay there." He looks at me and nods. "You think they'd mind me being there?" I shake my head. "Of course not." He draws a deep sigh. "They know about us?" I shake my head again, and he looks back to the road. He knows Mexico City is still pretty far away, and we need rest. But I feel better knowing that there's a plan. He squeezes my hand, and then he looks in the rear view mirror again. "Let's drive another hour and pull over for some sleep." He says, and he reaches up to caress the back of my head. I sigh, and close my eyes. ~~~ My muscles hurt, and I don't think I've ever felt this dirty before. Dust clings to my skin and hair, and I just want to wash it away. I don't take too long in the shower, because I know John wants one too. I thought about asking him if he wanted to get in with me, but it didn't seem appropriate for the time. Neither of us were in the mood for play. When John gets out of the shower, I can tell his demeanor has improved. With his lower body wrapped in a towel, he puts his arms around me as I stand at the sink. He squeezes me, laying his head on my shoulder. I take a small amount of comfort in knowing that he loves me...I don't think I could do this alone. After several long moments, he lets go, and leaves the bathroom. Maybe he'll sleep tonight. He hasn't been sleeping well. I, on the other hand, will sleep like a rock, if for no other reason than extreme exhaustion. It seems like we've just been going in fast forward for the past week, and it doesn't look like that's about to change anytime soon. I can't stop thinking about Mulder and Scully. God, I hope they are okay. I hope they've rediscovered the comfort of each other, and can find at least a little happiness in this perilous time. My heart sinks as I realize, for the first time, that we may never see them again. "Monica?" I look up at John. He walks towards me with a look of concern on his face. "You comin' to bed?" I turn off the bathroom light, and approach him. I wonder if he can sense what I'm feeling, which is ultimate failure. I feel like I've failed. But I'm so tired that I can't even really begin to express it. He takes me by the hand, and leads me to the bed. Before I even get in, he switches off the lamp and turns down the sheets. We get into bed together, and as soon as I slip underneath the cool, white motel sheets, I begin to relax. He holds me as close as comfortably possible, and we lay awake with our eyes open. "It's gonna be okay." He says simply, and reaches out to stroke a piece of my hair away. I never ceases to amaze me how John can sense what I'm feeling at any given moment. I snake my arms around him and pull him closer to me, knowing that I may have lost it all, but at least I still have John. At least I still have his love. "Hey." he says, drawing my chin up. "Whatever happens...we'll face it together." I stare into his blue eyes, so full of affection and kindness. I smile slightly, tiredly, and close my eyes. As I drift off to sleep, I feel his lips gently graze my forehead as he kisses me goodnight. ~~~finish~~~ Author's Notes: Because I know everyone and their dog will be writing post- "The Truth" DRR fics, I have decided NOT to read any of them until I'm finished with this, so as not to be swayed by any ideas, although the basic idea is that Doggett and Reyes can't just go back to work Monday morning like always. They are in this deep, a lot like Mulder and Scully, but without the practice. But unlike my recent DRR fics, this one has NO hanky-panky (and to think that I once had a hard time writing stories that HAD sex in them).