Title: A bend in the road
Author: Jessica   ( j_rothen@yahoo.se )
Rating: PG
Category: D, V, 
Spoiler: None
Feedback: Yes please...j_rothen@yahoo.se
Website: www.geocities.com/jlovesxfiles 
Summary: Doggett is standing by his son's grave remembering his
life.

Disclaimer: The X-files, Mulder and Scully belong to FOX 
and they are not mine. 

Note: English is not my first language so spelling/ grammar
mistake may occur.


"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference." /
( From "The Road not taken" by Robert Frost )
........................

As I stand here I realize that I know absolutely nothing. Sure,
I know how to read and write. I have read Thoreau and I can 
quote Shakespeare. But I know nothing about living. I thought
I did. I thought I had it all figured out. I was wrong. I had
planned it all so well. I had my goal in sight all along and
I never let my eyes drift from the finishing line. I knew what
I wanted and how I would get it. I was always sure of myself.
I went into the military wanting to see the world. Maybe that
wasn't the real reason. Maybe I just wanted to get out of that
house. My father was a man that showed love with his fists. He
worked constructions for forty years and every night when he
came home he sat down in front of the TV and drank. The beer
made him meaner than ever. He was nothing special than all 
the other mean bastards out there. He liked beating my mother
up as soon as she made something that made him go over the 
edge and that was many things. When I got old enough I stepped
between him and my mother and took all the blows. She never 
said anything. She just took care of me afterwards. The only
thing he ever taught me was strength to stand up for yourself.
He showed me the meanest side of man and I vowed that I would
never be like him. I got out of there as soon as I could and
joined the marines. They were more than happy to have me and
I was happy to find another family than the one I hated so. 
I kept in touch with my mother. She send me letters and we
talked on the phone as often she dared to call me. I always
felt bad hearing her voice tremble when I mentioned my father. 
I asked her several times to leave him but she refused and 
after a while I stopped asking. I knew that she would never 
leave him. Sometimes I feared the only way she would leave 
that house was in a body bag. I was wrong. One rainy and dark
December morning three years after I joined the marines my 
mother found my father dead on the couch. His heart had 
stopped. I never attended the funeral and I think my mother 
never blamed me. She understood. I had said goodbye to him
along time ago. He never entered my mind again. I never gave
him the satisfaction. I went home several times after my 
Father's dead. But every time I went I always hated what meat
me. I watched how my mother faded away in that house. She
refused to spend times with friends. She rarely stepped 
outside. She fell into a dark hole that not even I could 
save her from. She died six months later. I buried her along
side her beloving husband. 
The years after her death passed like in a blur. I gave 
myself to the marines and they thanked me for it. I never ever
thought about the future. I lived for the moment. After the 
war I kind of lost my touch. I went over there 
expecting so much. What I saw can't be described and it
still gives me nightmares sometimes. The year after my return
I tried to be strong and I tried to go on as nothing had 
happened. But I failed. It felt like I had failed everyone 
when I couldn't take it any more. I fell into that same hole
that my mother couldn't get herself out of. That's when she
found me. I was down and out when she stepped into my life. 
Her name was Barbara and I fell head over heals in love with
her. I was scared at first. I never expected her to go for
someone like me. She was this big lawyer up in New York 
somewhere and I was nobody. We meet in a bar in Washington
after I had received my medal for bravery. I just wanted to
drown myself in liquor that night. But she saved me. She saved
me in so many ways. The first think I remember thinking when
I saw her was that she was untouchable. She looked like a 
angel sends down from heaven or maybe it was just the alcohol
talking. I don't know. I can't remember what I said or even
what I did. But the only thing I remember about that night 
was that we danced. We danced all night. She had the lightest
touch. She felt like weightless in my arms and I felt so calm
when she rested her head against my chest and whispered that
she felt so safe in my arms. I followed her to her hotel room
and gave her a goodnight kiss at the door. I promised to call
her in the morning. I never did. Blame it on fear, blame it
on the alcohol but I never saw her again. Until three months
later. Call it faith or something. But we ended up at the 
same party one night. That time I wasn't drinking and I wasn't
scared. It had taken four months but I was finally back on
track. I had applied and was accepted to the Police academy. 
She had just been offered a position as a partner in a big
firm in New York. Many would say that we were totally wrong
for each other and maybe they were right but we fell head
over heals in love that night. That night we spend the most
beautiful night together and we made love in the moonlight.
I remember that she was crying in my arms and when I asked her
why she answered that she had never been so happy. That's 
when I knew that I loved her. Six months later we were engaged
and one year later we married. We bought a house and as soon
as I joined the NYPD. Two months after we were married she 
announced that she was pregnant. I was on cloud number nine. 
I tried to prepare myself for the arrival of a baby in 
everyway possible but I failed big times. When I first looked
into the eyes of my son everything I read and everything I 
had heard went out the window. I fell in love with him. He 
was such a beautiful child. He was so perfect. I stayed up
nights just watching him sleep. I was fascinated how small 
his hands were and the way he smiled. We was a good baby and
he never gave us any grief. I was there when he pulled himself
up and I was there to catch it on video when he took his first
steps. It felt like a miracle when he said "Daddy" for the 
first time. I can't describe that feeling. It's a feeling of
total happiness. 
The years passed all to quickly. We went from dippers to 
bikes and from bikes to the first day of school. I was there
all the way. Holding his hand. 
My relationship with Barbara grew stronger over the years. I 
think I fell deeper in love with her after she gave me my son.
Then disaster struck. 
Until this day I can't understand how it could happen. I never
saw it coming. I never even expected it. Sure, I know the 
risk. Believe me, I have seen the worst side of human behavior
but in some stupid way I never expected it to affect me. But
it did and there was nothing I could do to stop it from 
happening. On a cold December day Luke disappear. The pain
and the fear that runs through you body in that moment when
you get the news that your son is missing can't be described
in words. It's impossible. At first I thought it was just 
some stupid joke. I kept imagine that if I pinched myself
I would wake up and all of this would just be a bad dream. 
But I was wrong. The hardest thing I have ever done was walking
through our front door each night telling Barbara that we had 
found nothing. I felt like someone was cutting a knife through
my heart when I stood there seeing the pain in her eyes and 
knowing that there was nothing I could do to take that pain
away. For once in my life I feared the future. Then the
message came. The message that I had dreaded. He had been
found. I remember thinking that everything would be just fine.
My mind went blank when I saw his body. My son was lying 
face down in the mud. He was so cold when I took him in my
arms. I whispered his name and I tried to shake life into that
fragile body. I sat there for along time just clinging to his
body. I felt like all my insides had been ripped out. I felt
like I couldn't breathe. I clung to his body like my life 
depended on it. I had lost my son that day. The only thing
in my life that was truly mine to love. He was of my flesh
and bone. He was a part of me and I had lost him. 
When I told Barbara the news I just wanted to die. I held
her when she cried and I never backed away when she angry 
at the world slammed her fists against my chest. I let the
pain in. I deserved it. I welcomed it. 
We buried our only son a cold winters day five days after
he had been found. I didn't cry during the funeral. I couldn't.
I felt dead inside. I felt so numb and cold. I was just 
standing there holding Barbara up. When it was time to say 
goodbye I almost broke down. I couldn't bring myself to say
those words. It felt so final. Instead I just placed the 
flowers on the coffin and turned my back. Maybe it sounds
cold but I couldn't take it. 
The months after the funeral Barbara and I drifted apart. I was
too rapped up in my own grief that I never saw her pain. I 
couldn't take dealing with anything else than my own sorrow.
So I never refused when she asked me for a divorce three 
months later. I actually agreed. It was the only way. 

I'm standing here today in front of his grave. It's been more
than three years since that horrible day we laid him to 
rest. I have been here several times before trying to form
the words to say goodbye to him. 
- Son, I have come today to say goodbye  to you. I knew I
should have done this before. But I haven't been able. It has
taken me several years to work up the strength to even go
here. 
I kneel down beside his grave and let my hand rest against his
tombstone. It feels cold under my hand.
- I'm doing better now. I'm with the FBII these days. You 
would be proud of me. I have a great job and great partner. 
For once I'm happy. I don't know if I would be as happy as I 
once was but I'm content. I have a good life. I see that now. 
I have come here today to let you know that you can stop
worrying about me. I'm going to be all right. 
As I run my hand over his tombstone I can see his face before
me. He's smiling. I can remember ever line of his face. I 
will carry with me the memory of his face until that day I 
meat my maker. It's time for me to start living. 
- Son, it's time for me to let you go. II will love you always.
But I know you're safe. Angels are protecting you. I know
we'll meet again. But not today. Not today.
I rise and smile down at his grave. I know I'll come again.
I don't know much. I don't know the meaning of life. But I
stand here looking back at my life I know I have had a good
life. Sure, I have had a couple of bumps and bruises along
the way. But I have learned something. Always love like
this would be your last day on this beautiful earth. 
It's starting to snow. 
I smile up at the sky and say:
- Goodbye my son. I'll be seeing you.


Feedback----please...j_rothen@yahoo.se