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'So let's make
the Christmas wish together
It's like the best of dreams come true
Let's make the spirit last forever
This is my Christmas wish for you'
.........................~'Christmas Wish' by Vince Vance &
Valiants
*************************
"You've heard the story."
Looking out at the black sea that rolled and crashed against the
rocks to her left, Dana Scully wrapped weak arms around her slim
body but refused to turn as she sensed the stranger's approach
across the dusty earth behind her.
The tall figure stopped a few yards away and considered the fact
that what she'd said had been a statement, not a question - as if
she knew, just by sense, who was standing behind her. But that
was impossible...She didn't know him; she didn't know a single
thing about him! In all regards of the term, he was a complete
stranger - could even be here to kill her, for all she or anybody
knew...
And yet she greeted him as if she'd spent the whole twenty-three
years of his life watching over him.
Sand particles swept across the barren wasteland. It had been
seven years since a blade of grass or tree branch had bent to the
wind - the Battle stripping the planet of almost all plant,
animal and human life. The way things had been in the Before lay
so far back in the dwindling memories of the few that had
survived, that it was as if that time had never really existed -
nothing more than a fantasy world out of some book.
And to the children born after the aliens' departure, that's all
wildlife, blue skies, skyscrapers, a six-billion world populous,
safe rain, designer clothes and adults with unscarred skin were:
pure fiction.
He remembers - despite everything - as he wipes the sand from his
eyes, but knows why people do what they're doing to survive the
post-apocalyptic existence... At least, he'd pretended to know
and understand, but the stories he'd heard about this woman and
her mate had always left him wondering if there was a part about
the world's existence - *his* existence - that hadn't but needed
to be told.
That was why he was here: to find those answers, discover the
truth, and fill the void that had always resided in his heart.
Her almost intimate salutation only confused him further.
"I've heard a *lot* of stories in the past," he
countered, resting both hands against his hips. "I just
wanna know what's fiction and what's not. I want the
*truth*."
Scully gave a sarcastic snort of laughter and lowered her head.
Truth? Now there was an irony - nine years of working on the
X-Files, ten years on the run whilst preparing to rebel against
the coming invasion, and then a further eight years fighting the
violent battle against the numerous alien forces had only helped
her gain a handful of irrefutable truths, so - no matter how
important those were - she was still far from being the expert at
knowing all the certainties out there.
'The truth is out there, but so are lies.'
Words decades - a lifetime - old echoed in the timeless breeze
and the depths of her mind. She still stood by the fact that she
didn't regret a single day that had gone by since she'd joined
the FBI, but there were a couple of life-altering choices made
that could have been done differently, and she didn't want to add
another one to that list now by either turning too soon for him
to see the piercing blue eyes that matched his own, or saying too
little or even saying too much too soon...Of course, Mulder would
say she was being silly, searching as always for the most
rational explanation, but he wasn't here to deal with this
scenario, and - deep in his heart - she knew he would have the
same concerns.
"I don't know why," she started in a voice less even
than it had been before, "but we didn't think it'd last as
long as it did...we thought They'd come and we would either
succeed in rebelling against Their onslaught - eradicate the
virus completely - or They would kill us outright all within a
matter of months...maybe a year or two...But eight?" Eyes
snapped shut as her memory was flooded by images of blood, black
oil, fire, green toxin, broken vaccine syringes, more blood...the
sheer hell they'd gone through until they'd finally won, only to
realize that what remained hadn't been worth the casualties or
losses of life. "Eight years were stolen from us like the
lives of those we loved most, but we won...W-we won,
and...a-a-and no matter how much was lost, we need to be thankful
t-that we h-have our freedom and that we're s-s-still here...That
there are s-s-still--...H-how lucky we are that the most
important people - th-those w-w-we cannot survive w-without - are
still w-with us. So, every year, on the anniversary of Their
departure, I come down here, thank God for what we have, and then
make a wish...A wish for regained health - for a future..."
Dana's wet eyes lifted to glance at the house to the right, just
above where they stood, before she shook her head solemnly and
sighed, "One wish per year isn't asking much, so hopefully
we'll eventually be answered."
"My parents were killed in the first month. I don't see a
reason to celebrate or be thankful about that."
Scully took that as her cue to finally turn around and face the
man that she had only ever known as a baby. Somehow, she managed
to fix her gaze on him and rein in her swelling emotions, and as
she stared at the face that so resembled his father's apart from
the blue eyes and rounded jaw, she noticed something pass over
his expression--
He wasn't as prepared for this truth as he'd believed he was.
"William..." Choked and low, but she couldn't stop the
name passing her quivering lips before a frail hand came up to
cover it.
He'd overheard the stories twice when his parents had argued
before their deaths, has heard them over a dozen times since -
stories of a miracle child with special abilities born to two of
the leading forces in the rebellion and given up for adoption -
and the main purpose of his visit here today had been to find
closure of some sort. But the emotion here was too palpable, and
the desire to comfort this woman he'd never met before was so
great...This was *not* how it was supposed to be! His mother -
the woman that had loved him, brought him up, kissed his knee
better when he'd fallen out of his treehouse, helped him with his
homework - had been murdered twelve-years ago...He wanted the
truth, but not to forget who his parents had been or replace
them...
Just the Truth - nothing more.
...And yet tears were beginning to blur his vision and he wanted
to whisper 'mommy' in reply...
"W-what--" Will Van De Kamp faltered and had to cough
to clear his throat before continuing, shakily, "What about
the story of the unlo--...unloved, u-unwanted 'miracle
child'?"
"'Unloved'?" It should have been expected, but despite
how overwhelmed she was there was no avoiding the anger working
its way into Scully's senses and voice. "*'Unwanted'*?
If--...If only--... Okay, you want a s-story? O-once upon a time
there were two FBI agents that fought tooth and nail against
conspirators and aliens and other hidden forces every day - being
forced to stare Death in the face several times. The female agent
was even abducted, experimented on, given Cancer and left unable
to have any children...Yadda, yadda, yadda...Against all odds
they survive, finally confess their deepest feelings for each
other and - even after science failed them - miraculously
conceive a child." She paused only momentarily to catch her
breath and give the figure that towered over her a sharp raise of
her brow. "You."
"Th--"
"The story went through even more twists and heartache and
pain before you were even born. But when you did come...My God,
you made the suffering worthwhile and the bad memories from the
past melt away - a-all there w-w-was was you and all
our--....their hopes for a future together forever...You could
have lit the whole country with the love radiating from
them..." Wounds never truly healed were beginning to open
and weep, washing away the composure and facade of strength she'd
been struggling to cling on to for so long. "For forty-eight
hours they actually had the chance to experience pure,
unadulterated contentment before the outside world broke down
my--...her apartment door and tore their world to pieces."
William frowned with confusion but remained silent, waiting with
held breath for her to finish. So much of what was being said
conflicted with what he'd led himself to believe that he didn't
know if he trusted her, but he had to hear more...
"Severe threats were made against the male agent's life and
that of his new family, so - for his safety - your mother made
the excruciatingly painful decision to send him into hiding...He
only agreed to go because he thought it would keep you and her
safe...B-but you...you were a mi-miracle and had special powers
and I was so scared and lonely, and then They tried to take you
away and kill Mulder...All I kept hearing were nonsense
prophecies about how you would serve Them if he was dead...a-and
they took you and...I got you back, b-b-but then Spender returned
deformed and everybody said it was Mulder but I knew it
wasn't...and he said that the aliens would do tests and torture
you no matter what and I c-couldn't--" Almost breathless,
Dana dropped to her knees, sobbing as hard as she could. "I
just wanted you to be safe, dammit!" Suddenly the story had
shifted from being a distant, third-person account to a very
up-close-and-personal recital of events - succeeding in driving
the facts home hard with their cold, bone-jarring reality.
"I'd t-tried to believe that I-I could protect y-y-you, but
w-without Mulder there I felt so lost, and I just wanted the best
for you - isn't that w-what any mother should want? For their
child to have a future without fear? God, you were *never*
unwanted or unloved - how could we not? I had to forget what I
wanted, though, and put you f-first...and the only way to secure
your wellbeing was to send you as far away from us a-as possible
- where They could never find you."
Wiping at the tears that left dark trails in the sand thinly
coating his face, Will took two long steps forward and then
lowered to his knees also in front of her. "You're..."
Nervous gulp - no way of turning back now. "Y-you're my
mother? My...my real mom...?"
"I thought I'd never see you again, but we prayed so
hard," came her strained reply as she gave a nod of her
head.
There was no point running from the feelings inside anymore. Will
would always love and remember the people he'd known as Mom and
Dad, but there was a pull - a connection - to this place and her
that felt right, so he reached out to wrap his arms around her
and soothe his true mother.
...One thing that was bothering him, though, was the whereabouts
of his real father, or at least what had happened to him.
"But what about--... Where's Dad?"
She instantly stiffened in his arms, and as fear began to work
its way into his veins he wished he hadn't asked.
Yet again Scully looked up at the house above them, thinking back
to that day five painful years ago.
XxXxXxXxX
TRANS-MILLBORN PHARMACEUTICALS
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
JUNE 1st, 2019
10:13 PM
The sound of distant explosions echoed in the warm night air, and
a craft passed overhead - lighting the area for barely a second -
but there were no other signs of life until two figures appeared
from behind a dumpster and ran across to the large building.
"Mulder, slow down!" Scully whispered sharply, not
catching up with him until he'd stopped at the entrance.
Easily unlocking the double doors, he glanced over his shoulder
and gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, but then
disappeared into the darkness before she'd even had chance to
catch her breath.
*Dammit.*
Once inside, she turned on her flashlight and swept its beam back
and forth across the wide corridor as she searched for her
partner. She knew they had to be quick, quiet - keep moving to
avoid detection - but the fact remained that she was far from the
young, energetic FBI agent she'd been when they'd first met, and
although she worked out everyday, there was no way she could
exert herself as much or keep up with him...her body wanted
nothing to do with it.
"You can stay behind, Scully...it's only a quick recon
mission for the supplies you need," he'd insisted, pulling
on his black sweater and jacket earlier as she'd stood in the
makeshift shelter's doorway - a perplexed, worried frown creasing
her features. "Zip, zap, and I'll be back before you even
realize I'm gone!"
"I have no control over what happens when you disappear for
security or other reasons, but when you're here I wanna be sure I
can watch your back all the time...I can't and won't risk losing
you forever."
That had made him actually pause in his preparations to look up,
take the necessary strides forward to close the gap between them
and then wrap his arms around her. "I keep telling you,
nothing's gonna happen to me--"
"Need I really remind you about Landlow last November? If we
hadn't located where They'd taken you in time--...There's only so
much you can do before a line has to be drawn or you send
somebody else - you're almost fifty-eight! Why not send a couple
of the younger recruits?"
He'd moved away then, irritated and combing fingers through his
gray hair. He held his responsibility to and place with her the
most important things above all else, but at the same time there
was a planet to save, and as one of the very few immune, strong
survivors he could not take that priority lightly - time would
not stop the aliens so it could not stop him either, no matter
how old he got. "I have a responsibility to those people out
there," he'd snapped, turning on her with a finger stabbing
the air in the direction of the exit, "and to whoever's left
on this damned planet an--"
"And to your wife." An unnecessary low blow in some
regards as she knew how steadfast their commitment to each other
had and always would be, but essential to bring his wandering
mind back into focus.
It had seemed to have worked, until he choked out, "And what
about to my son, wherever he is?"
Now, as she walks deeper into the pharmaceutical company's
labyrinth of corridors, Mulder's words from earlier this evening
come back to echo in her thoughts and rekindle the old, familiar
ache in her heart. There'd been rumors of a rebel group somewhere
in the mid-west led by a young man with special 'powers' that
posed the greatest of threats to the aliens - a man that had been
lucky to even be born. Despite the other possibilities, they knew
it could only be their son, and they've had several ongoing
debates since they'd heard as to if they should try make contact
with him - both desperate to regain that most precious thing
robbed from them so long ago but nervous and eager to retain his
safety - only to decide, for the time being, to let him be.
Without realizing, Dana moved into the lab where the wealth of
apparatus, chemicals and other vital paraphernalia they'd come
here to ransack was stored - seemingly drawn there by some unseen
force. A sweep of the room with the large flashlight revealed no
Mulder or hidden threats, so she set to work on collecting some
of the stuff they required and then anything extra that would fit
in her duffel bag, knowing that Mulder would sooner or later
track her down.
Leaving the memory of the argument as her only form of company.
"*We* have a responsibility to *our* son, but not to get
ourselves killed - not to purposely put ourselves in danger when
there are other options! Now, I've said I'll go with you, Mulder,
just as I've gone every step of the way with you, but I've got a
bad feeling about this and I really wish you'd either leave it
for now or send someone else."
It had looked as if his anger might be beginning to wane, but
still he insisted, "I spoke with Mark - he said
everything'll be fine. I'd love you to come with me, but if you
don't wanna, I'm not going to force you."
With a brief glance over her shoulder, she'd quickly taken
several steps toward him. "I don't trust that man,"
she'd ground out, lowering her head slightly to muffle the sound
from anybody else that might be trying to listen in on them.
Mark Lawson was a member of their group they'd met eight months
ago who purportedly had psychic abilities. There was unverified
evidence of his skills, and Mulder had taken that as enough proof
- after a blood and physical examination - that the guy would be
a dedicated asset to their side of the fight, but Scully was far
from convinced. A higher percentage of missions had gone awry in
the months he'd been with them than the four year period they'd
been in Virginia thusfar, his 'abilities' had born very little
fruition (the very rare correct predictions easily construable as
the result of pure luck or coincidence by anyone...apart from her
partner, it seemed), and she couldn't explain it but there was
just something about him that made her feel uneasy.
"I know you don't, but why can't you trust my judgment of
what he's saying?"
"Because you've got your heart so set on the idea that maybe
he'll develop into the next Gibson Praise, you'll believe
anything he says - 'the sky's yellow', 'there's a dense forest
outside' and 'the aliens are our friends' will probably be your
next nuggets of wisdom! Because you're failing to trust my
judgment of the fact that he could be sending you or us into a
death-trap!"
"Great scouting, Scout."
Something grabbed her shoulder, and she sharply turned, dropping
everything to draw her weapon at lightning speed - confusion at
the crossover between memories and reality lingering for just a
hair's breath of a second - only to find herself aiming it at
Mulder. The coil of tension in her slowly unwound and she lowered
the gun to re-holster it. "*Jesus*!...You scared the living
hell out of me! It's stupid, needless moves like that that I keep
talking about - I could have shot you."
"It wouldn't exactly be the first time," Mulder teased,
sliding the hand from her shoulder down to twine their fingers
together. "I just checked - everything looks clear. Come on,
can't we put this behind us? I don't want this to--"
She turned away to dismiss him and gathered up the bag and
remaining items. "I just want to get out of here and back to
camp ASAP."
"Scully..." His hand shot out and fingers firmly closed
around her forearm, just below the large two-year-old burn scar,
before she could leave the room. "Scully, I told you it's
okay here! Please, talk to me."
She looked up, eyes and features softening. So much of their time
together - especially since becoming fugitives - had relied upon
his hunches and judgment that her complete dismissals of what he
believed to be true and lack of trust in this case were knocking
them miles off-centre, and she didn't like it. There could be no
avoiding the uneasy gut feeling she had, but for now it seemed
they were safe, and he couldn't be blamed for either wanting to
scavenge out the provisions she'd been complaining about the
dwindling number of not a day ago, or daring to trust somebody
who was supposed to be on their side in this topsy-turvy world.
"We're okay," she finally whispered with a sigh,
stepping into him and momentarily resting her head against his
chest - their hands once again joining so that she could give his
a tender, reassuring squeeze. "And if we're not, we will be.
You know I don't doubt you or your instinct, but...but I just
wish you would understand that you can't expect me to ignore what
I feel either."
Mulder gave a slow nod of his head in acknowledgement. "I
do, and I'm sorry. I--"
"Not now," Scully quickly cut in before he could say
too much more, giving his hand another squeeze. "When we get
back. We've got what we came here for, so let's go--"
It was her turn to be silenced, but not because of her partner.
There was movement in the doorway.
Puzzled by the truncated sentence and growing panic on her face,
he turned...
...to see the Alien Bounty Hunter staring back at them.
"Mulder," It boomed - Its face totally emotionless but
emitting wave upon wave of sadistic, zealous joy. "And your
mate. We heard you were alive and assuming new identities, but we
didn't dare to believe it. It seems the time has finally come,
though - we've waited a long time for this."
Instinctively, Mulder withdrew the retractable stiletto from his
coat pocket whilst Scully reached for her gun yet again, even
though she knew it would be useless against the alien.
"Puny items wielded by puny beings. Why do you try to fight?
There's no hope - there never was, and you know it," It
continued, gesturing toward Scully. "You only tell him every
day that there is to make you feel better for not believing it
yourself. How pathetic. In what way does that make you worthy of
life?" It paused and took several steps forward. "And
you" - now waving a dismissive hand in Mulder's direction -
"should have died years ago. In fact, you haven't been human
since we took you, so why do you pretend to be?"
Neither of the ex-FBI agents responded, knowing full well the
tactics being used to try despair and disarm them. An 'attack and
escape' plan seemed impossible in this small, single-exit room
against the strong, mind-reading alien, but they'd fought these
things before (the scars marring their skin and minds a testament
to that fact) and were not about to give up now. Nodding to his
partner - the woman that had agreed to become his wife thirteen
years ago - Mulder flipped the stiletto to her in a practiced
move and then lunged at the hunter. Scully was about to run
around behind the being and use the weapon on the back of its
neck, but before she could there was the smashing of glass to her
right, a sharp, unbearable pain ripping through her leg, and the
next thing she knew she was lying on the cold floor staring up at
the Gray that had burst in and was approaching--
"*Mul-der*!" She tried to move - to get up and protect
him - except the second her leg moved the tiniest amount the pain
increased to an excruciating level, leaving her virtually
paralyzed. The only thing she could do was watch in horror as he
turned at the sound of her pain-filled scream in time for the
Gray's claw to slice open his chest in one swoop and the Hunter's
unyielding, forceful fist to crash down against his skull.
XxXxXxXxX
PRESENT DAY - DECEMBER 24th, 2024
FREESOL, WASHINGTON
Her voice filtering through the air came to a stop, and he
wondered if he'd fallen asleep for an instant and missed
something. It was a common, unavoidable occurrence, but on this
special occasion that he could not bear witness to he'd hoped to
learn what had happened next. Of course, she's told him a
thousand times since, but his mind is very selective about the
few pieces of information it chooses to retain - memories as
jumbled as his frustratingly out-of-sequence speech - and that is
one thing it lets slip into oblivion like grains of sand almost
immediately. He has many injuries, but the blow to his head and
resulting brain damage is the only thing he truly regrets.
That, and the bed sores.
Fox Mulder shifted as best he could to relieve the irritation of
the rashes on his back caused by both his many injuries and
constant location on the old mattress. Scully tried to help him
down into the living room or even just to the chair in the corner
not five feet away by the window, but the discomfort/pain caused
by movement made him an even more awkward nuisance of a patient,
and as the years passed it was becoming increasingly difficult
for her to move his taller bulk - the staircase becoming a
nightmarish hurdle even when she took it on alone... All the more
reason for him to puzzle over why she still stuck with him - he
couldn't walk, the house was still standing but barely,
electricity hadn't been restored to their corner of the state
yet, and the image of the black, tumultuous sea that had once
been the same blue as her eyes (a fact his mind chose to remember
only when he stared at her) surely couldn't help her relax or
find peace? Doggett and Reyes had survived and lived in DC where
electricity did exist....maybe she could go stay with them, leave
her gun behind, and he could just shoot his brains out and end it
all...
Maybe not.
God, he'd thought he was a lucky son of a bitch before, but now
he was really pressing his luck and for once it was probably time
to stop questioning it.
What he wouldn't give to see his son again right now, though. His
brain may not remember much - even, occasionally, Scully's first
name - but he does remember a forty-eight hour period
twenty-three years ago when he'd held the tiny, beautiful baby
boy in his arms, sung to him, fed him, been a father to him and a
family with Scully. Walking away from them had been the hardest
thing ever, but he's been fortunate to regain Scully...if he
could just see his son one more time--...
There was movement outside the bedroom door and he turned his
head to look in that direction.
"J-just...give me a second, okay?" the muffled familiar
voice of his partner stammered. More rustling around from the
hallway followed, and then the door slowly opened. "Mulder,
are you awake?"
"Mm." He watched as she entered, closed the door after
her and then limped toward the side of the bed - a small, bony
hand outstretching to tenderly stroke across his forehead.
"You been again beach?"
"I won't stop wishing, and you know it. No matter what They
say, there *is* Hope," Scully sighed, moving the hand down
to cup his cheek. She's become accustomed to the muddle of words
his brain refuses to re-order, but she hates seeing the
contorting expression of aggravation, anger and concentration as
he struggles to rephrase what doesn't sound right. It had been a
miracle that the lacerations across his back, chest and thigh had
healed themselves enough to cease the bleeding and almost
eliminate the chance of infection by a matter of hours after the
attack (a lingering after-effect from his abduction, she
supposed), but the complete lack of medical supplies or hospitals
anywhere, let alone in Freesol or the whole state of Washington,
has meant he cannot have the care he really needs, and with the
wound on her leg that frequently opens and becomes infected
despite efforts to stitch, wrap and clean it-- ...They have their
lives and freedom, but she wonders if they really did win the
Battle or even how much more time they'll be gifted with before
it catches them up. "Besides, there are so many things to
worry about, it's nice to take a break and think things over for
a few minutes."
"Wish you should for else something...Wi--...You
should--"
"Like what? A bigger bed for you to lay on? Television?
Seagulls? Hair dye?" She sat down on the edge of the bed and
clasped one of his hands in her free one.
"Something..." A pause as his face scrunched up in
consideration yet again, and then, "Something for you."
Scully frowned and shook her head in confusion before it finally
dawned. Every December 24th for the past four years she'd looked
up at the sky and used her Christmas wish to simply ask for his
improvement in health - no matter how little - but he thought she
was wasting it on him...believed that there was something much
more important for her to request from whatever higher power.
"There's only one thing I want, though," she sighed,
feeling the tears begin to well again; the emotion clogging her
throat, "and I've got it, but now I want you to be
better."
"You...just...want..." Deep breath. "...me to
dirty in talk to you order--...*in order*." In case she
hadn't understood the mixed innuendo, he smirked and waggled his
eyebrows. But, of course, she'd known exactly what he'd said, and
as she lightly, playfully swatted at his arm, there was no
holding back her laugh - the very rare visitor since they'd
returned here.
Only a day or so after the incident at the pharmaceutical
building, she'd packed up some food into their car and, despite
how dangerous it had been to either transport him or drive with a
unbearably painful, useless leg. had driven them back across
country to their home by the sea in Freesol. She didn't dare
think it, but (if she'd been honest with herself) she'd brought
them back to die.
Five years have passed and they're still clinging to life, but
she doesn't regret the decision at all, and even Mulder is
thankful for it.
"Maybe," she teased, a little wistfully. "A girl
can dream."
There was a moment of companionable silence as they stared at
each other and thought back to days of flirting, joking, making
love, theorizing, running and fighting. It's moments like this
that remind them some of those days are gone, but not necessarily
forever, and that they still have a lot together - a lot to live
for.
Which reminded her...
"Mulder, I don't know how or why, but we have a very special
visi--"
"He came...back...to us. Will - m--...our...miracle."
Before Dana could reply, there was a quiet rap at the door and
then it slowly opened to allow William entrance. Both parents
looked up at him and snatched in a breath - Scully still finding
it difficult to believe that the man standing in front of them
was the boy she'd had to give away and live without for
twenty-two years; Mulder proud of what his son had grown up to
become as well as overjoyed (moved to tears, even) to finally be
able to see him.
William approached the end of the bed, but suddenly paused
mid-step and tilted his head to the side a fraction. "What's
wrong with my nose?"
Scully's brow sharply raised and eyes widened as she stared at
her son and then snapped her head round to glance at her partner,
only to see the increasing panic on his face. "Mulder?"
His hold on her hand tightened and she quickly moved to feel his
forehead with the back of her other hand. "Mulder, what is
it? Mulder, you *have* to tell me what's wrong!" When the
only response given was the rapid, frantic shake of his head and
tightening grip, Scully abruptly turned her attention back to
their son. "What did you do? *What's happening*?"
"I..." Will took a step back, fear coursing through
him. "I didn't do anything!" he insisted. "I just
wanted to see you...Wh-what...?" He looked away and stared
at his father, who was staring back at him and still shaking his
head. "He...He can hear my thoughts? C-can hear your
thoughts?" Turning back to Scully. "What does he mean
'it's happening again'?"
"You can read minds." It was more of an accusation than
a question, and if she hadn't been so worried about her partner's
health, William sensed she would have been puzzled and ashamed by
it.
That wasn't important right now, though, and unsure of what else
to do, he backed out of the room, ran down the staircase and
dropped, exhausted, onto the couch in the lounge - their distant
voices filtering through the floorboards as he stared at the
unlit fireplace. He didn't know exactly what he'd expected when
he'd decided to come here, but her story, her thoughts, his
father's thoughts and now fit had never been in any kind of
consideration.
Mulder's body slumped back against the pillows the instant his
son left the room. He shook his head and stared up at Scully -
that was their son, but why had the dissonance and voices
returned? The thoughts...
"Mul-der? My God, what happened?"
"A-art---...artifact," he eventually managed to choke
out, never breaking eye-contact and silently pleading her to find
the offending object they'd believed would never have the sane
hold over him again after he'd been returned from his abduction.
"Hurt head...like before.."
"Holy shit!" Scully let him go - shuddering at the cold
air that stabbed at her palms as soon as his skin left her grasp
- and then quickly went to the first floor. She may not be a
redhead anymore, but her protective streak and temper were
definitely flaring.
Except, when William looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes that
matched his father's, despite the coloring, she felt the anger
quickly seep away from every part of her body. Suddenly she felt
like she was holding that baby in her arms again and staring down
at him as he sucked on his fist, completely unaware of how much
he was loved or how big a part he had in his parents' universe.
"You know about my 'abilities' - you've *always*
known," he whispered. "You know I wouldn't hurt
him..."
Eyes slipping shut, Dana gave an acknowledging nod of her head
and brief smile. "You weren't supposed to have them anymore,
but that's something to think about another time. I need to
ask--"
"'Artifact'?"
"Yes - it's a piece of an alien craft I found in Africa many
years ago...A rubbing from it's surface had the same affect on
your dad as what you just witnessed."
"But I don't--" He faltered and frowned as an image of
the item in question came into focus in her mind. "That's
not a piece of an alien spaceship! It's just a scrap of metal
with Native American script on it!"
"Believe me, it's so much more than that. For the full
story, feel free to dive around in my mind, but beware of the
cobwebs if you do." She chuckled, but fell deafly silent as
she saw him reach into his coat pocket and pull out a familiar
clump of gray metal. "You have it with you? But why? How did
you get it?"
"Mama found it at the bottom of the bag they gave her with
me. She wanted to throw it away, but Dad - my adoptive dad, that
is - believed maybe it was there for a reason, to protect me or
something, so he put it on my dresser and I was allowed to keep
it."
The day she'd given him up for adoption has always haunted her -
memories (used to help her remember as well as punish her for
making the life-shattering choice) of dressing him in the UFO
outfit Mulder had bought and packing the small rucksack with a
selection of his clothes and favorite toys...and the artifact
that she had miraculously, inexplicably come across not long
after it had been taken away from Comer at St Mary's Hospital.
She hadn't known completely why she'd packed it for him, but it
had felt right, as if it was the best thing to keep them
connected in lieu of a photograph.
"I've always carried it around with me - as much of a ritual
as your trip down to the beach every Christmas," Will
finished, placing the item down on the table in front of him.
"If I'd known it would do that--"
"It's--...It's okay, don't worry. As long as he's not in the
same room as it, he should be okay."
William nodded and stood, glancing back at her before making his
way back up to the bedroom again.
Scully watched after him, snatched up a worn cushion from the
couch to place on top of the artifact, and then followed.
"Kiddo!" Mulder smiled, reaching out a hand to grab and
shake Will's. "Sorry old man's your up screwed."
"The impact to his head fractured his skull and caused a
brain bleed, as well as some neural damage - his head just didn't
like being hit that hard," Scully cut in to explain, moving
around to the opposite side of the bed and sitting down on the
mattress so that her back rested against the wall and legs spread
out alongside the covered ones of her husband. "He still has
about ninety-percent use of his motor reflexes, but his brain has
difficulty processing certain information, and when he tries to
say something the signal between his brain and mouth becomes
jumbled--" She was cut short by William's sudden outburst of
laughter. This wasn't a joking matter, and she was about to chide
him when he quickly assured,
"It's okay - I'm not laughing because of that. But Dad just
said 'in less boring, straight-to-the-point terms: I'm screwed
up'."
There had been an intention to swat at her partners arm, but when
she turned and saw the tears beginning to brim in his eyes,
Scully changed her mind.
'Dad'? He was a dad! He'd always been a father, even in absentia,
but his son had been too young to say 'da' - let alone 'daddy' -
when he'd gone into hiding...and now there was this twenty-three
year old man standing beside him calling him 'Dad'. He'd thought
they'd left the X-Files behind years ago, but this was definitely
a case-worthy situation, if not just for the warm and wonderful
feelings it awakened within him.
Will smiled in acknowledgement of that thought, hoping they would
mistake it as a result of the chuckle. He really felt as if he'd
come home - felt, beyond reason, like their son as if he'd never
known anything different. It brought a pang to his heart to think
that his adoptive parents may fade to nothing more than a distant
memory, but he just couldn't deny this or them.
"Snitch," Mulder pouted once he'd regained his
composure.
"What I don't understand, though," Dana started,
confused, "is if you can read minds, why didn't you know
that I'm really your mother? Why couldn't you hear how much it
was never about us not wanting or loving you? Why not hear the
story in my mind instead of making me verbally recount it?"
The pain retelling what they'd been through had unearthed was too
much to cope with, so she felt fully justified asking these
questions and letting her aggravation rise.
"Scully..."
"I can only hear thoughts at the front of your brain,"
William explained, gently. "I can't hear everything that
goes on in your mind - just bits here and there - I know you're
worried and wish you could get him to a hospital for some proper
treatment," he directed at her before nod his head in
Mulder's direction, "and I know you--...You have a dirty
mind!"
"It's...been said," came his father's leer. "Your
mother's...fault."
"I know you both wish for the same things for each other and
that there is stuff you both still feel scared to say. But I
can't hear the things that you try to hide deep down inside. I
can't understand or read what you're exactly feeling."
"But you can understand what Mulder is thinking and trying
to say? Even long sentences?" Scully, her brow furrowing
slightly, queried.
"As you said, 'when he tries to say something the signal
between his brain and mouth becomes jumbled'. He knows what he
wants to say, but something becomes lost and mixed before he can
vocalize it." He paused and looked at his dad for a moment.
"He says I should tell you that he doesn't want to go to a
hospital - that he's happy here with you - and he wants you to
stop worrying. He wishes you had more of a life. He can't live
without you, but he thinks maybe you should go back to DC and
start over...'It was my fault in the first place that I got
injured - I don't ever want her to suffer, especially because of
my bull-headed ignorance.' He wants me to tell you that you were
right, and he's sorry he never apologized properly for
that." Another pause to check he'd said it all right, and
Mulder nodded - his eyes closing. "And--" William's
eyebrows nearly reached his hairline as he shook his head
frantically. "No, don't say that!"
Not privy to what her son was hearing, Scully could only listen
to his side of the conversation and immediately became worried at
his last exclamation. "What? What did he say?" Her
hands quickly moved to clasp Mulder's arm. *Please not goodbye.
Oh, God, not now!*
"No. I-it's not something he wants to say to you," the
younger man assured, shooting a glance at her before turning
back, "but..." This wasn't right...He'd come here maybe
looking for an apology from two people that had just thrown him
away like a piece of trash when he'd been only a baby, doubtful
that it would actually help him find any kind of closure. But now
he'd come to realize that what he'd believed had been a million
miles from the truth, and his incapacitated father was lying
there in front of him apologizing for failing him...
Had Fox Mulder really failed his family by putting what he wanted
aside and going into hiding at his partner's behest to keep them
safe? Had he failed his son by fighting for a future for him to
live in?
And did Dana Scully have to apologize for putting her baby son's
safety and happiness above everything she wanted by sending him
away?
This wasn't right.
"You both did what had to be done at the time choices were
demanded from you," he continued, staring at them both.
"And neither of you have failed me - in fact, you gave me
the chance to have a safe, full childhood. I should be thanking
you." That caused a slight grimace due its corniness, but it
had been the only thing to come to mind. "Well, I hope you
know what I mean."
Scully looked from her son to Mulder, then slid off the bed and
moved around it to rest a hand on Will's shoulder. "William,
sweetie, can I just have a quick word with your father in
private?"
"Sure thing. All this excitement on top of a long journey is
a little draining," he shrugged, moving to the exit. "I
could probably do with a little time-out to take this all in
myself." With that, he left the room.
Both agents listened to the fading footfalls on the stairs,
neither saying anything or daring to think too much until they
heard the living room door click shut.
"He's...got...f-family," Mulder croaked as she turned
back to face him. "Wife...son...way the baby on..."
"I would have said the same, but not specifics. How do you
know?"
"Spooky intuition."
"You read his mind when he had the artifact?"
"That...too." He flashed her one of his goofy grins,
but it faded as he considered what needed to be asked.
"Scully, what ne--...*happened*...next?"
Now she was completely baffled. "Huh?"
"After...Gray appeared...We did how escape?"
"I've told you a million times, Mulder, but your mind lets
it slip. Is it really important now?"
"Please...remind me...Humor...me."
XxXxXxXxX
TRANS-MILLBORN PHARMACEUTICALS
JUNE 1st, 2019
There was nothing she could do but lay and watch as her partner
was beat and mauled. She screamed, tried throwing objects at his
attackers...anything to take Their attention away from him long
enough so that he could try escape. But it was all in vain.
"Your time will come soon," the Bounty Hunter informed,
staring at her for several seconds that seemed to stretch into
hours as They continued to mutilate Mulder. "We'll make sure
he's conscious enough to see your demise."
Regarding the limp, bloody torso at Their feet, she'd be lucky if
he was even alive now.
The loudest scream exploded from her lungs, though, when she saw
the recognizable black, viscous oil dripping onto the floor to
form a shifting puddle at the Gray's feet, not ten inches from
Mulder's cataleptic, slack face.
Suddenly several shaking flashlight beams bounced around the
room, a number of calling voices echoed down the corridor, and
then - without warning - the Hunter dropped to the floor,
dissolving into a pool of green goo.
"Paula? Paula, can you hear me?"
She continued to stare at Mulder, too busy praying for him to
move to answer the concerned voice calling her fake name, which
was quickly washed out by an ear-piercing, shrill cry from the
Gray.
"Somebody help me get him out of here!"
"Jesus H. Christ! He had them fucking trapped!"
"Paula's got a slice of glass deep in her leg - we're gonna
need something to lay her on and a splint or whatever to keep it
steady until we get her back to camp!"
"I'm on it!"
"Somebody deal with that oil."
"Is it possible for someone to lose that much blood?"
The voices mixed together to form a deafening cacophony that
didn't fade until she finally, mercifully passed out.
XxXxXxXxX
PRESENT DAY
"They'd overheard Lawson promising that the trap for us had
been set over his radio, and immediately came to our aid. Mark
was...'dealt with' - I don't know how and I've never cared to as
long as the threat was disposed of," Scully surmised.
"I didn't regain consciousness until the next morning. You
were still in and out of it when I decided it was time to come
home. But that's pretty much all there is to tell...Have you
forgotten it yet?" Uneasy pause. "Sorry...It was
supposed to be a joke..."
"Have I ide--...Have idea," he started, giving an
understanding smile. "A gift...for Will - with bear me...
We've our had wishes all answered: we're...alive, together, and
know safe we our is son and hap--...Will's happy. There's
no...need...for keep us to wishing, but...maybe there's...a stuff
lot of Will wants...for hope to and wish - maybe as he'll lucky
be...as we've been...if...not moreso."
Dana felt her heart swell at the idea of what he was suggesting,
even though it also made her feel apprehensive about the
resulting loss. "You think I should give up my Christmas
wish and give it to Will?" she verified, subconsciously
stroking her fingers back and forth across the back of his hand.
"We've been through a lot...I just thought--...Is it even
possible to give something like that? I know it sounds stupid,
but it's become a kind of ritual, and I'd hoped that..."
"That...it'd make...me...better."
She gave a slow nod and then lowered her head so that he couldn't
see the tears or embarrassment. For the woman who had once put so
much faith in science, medicine, rational explanations and order
to be fighting aliens, regarding psychic and telekinetic (among
other things) phenomena as everyday occurrences, and now happily
putting her hopes and dreams into such a fanciful thing like a
Christmas wish was the most bizarre but true concept to both of
them.
"But I...am - alive everything I'm despite--...I'm *alive*.
As long as...I...have...you...that's...all
that...matters..."
"It's not the best gift--"
"TVs...and hi-fis not...selling...well lately.
Low...production..." he kidded, fractionally lifting his
shoulders in a shrug.
"You know what I mean."
"If going not you're to for use it yourself, wasting stop it
give and it someone to deserves who it. S-something...he
can...pass on..."
"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"
"I'm...verbally ch-challenged...not...stupid." Mulder
smiled and turned his hand over so that he could return the
touch.
The decision was silently agreed between them as they stared into
the depths of each's eyes and leaned into each other's touch.
Scully slowly, uneasily made her way to exit the room,, but was
stopped by her partner's shaky voice as she reached out to grasp
the door handle.
"Wait...Let try--...me try...something," he coughed.
"Save you...stairs."
She glanced back over her shoulder at him and watched as his eyes
closed and brow furrowed. He didn't open them again for a minute,
a few seconds after which there was a knock at the door.
*It'll save a lot of time if I explain things to you this way,*
Mulder telepathically told William once the younger man
re-entered the bedroom. *I heard you and your mom talking on the
beach...I know you know about why she goes out there every year
to pray and make a wish - just as Thanksgiving Day was a
celebration of the pilgrims' plight. I don't think she's been
using it well by only using it to ask for my return of health,
and I guess to others - maybe even you - it sounds stupid, but I
totally believe what she is doing is right and worthy...and
that's why we want to pass that ritual on to you, so that any
answered wishes will bring all you hope for your way. I'm not
saying you have to come back to the beach every year, although
we'd love you to come back regularly, even with your family, but
wherever you are...I don't know, I can't really explain it...it's
just something that we want you to have.*
Scully watched as Mulder stared unwaveringly at their grown son
and William's expression constantly changed in reaction to what
he was being told. She felt a pang of jealousy at not being able
to hear what her partner was 'saying', but Mulder needed this.
She'd been able to have a full conversation with Will, but
Mulder's speech impediment made it exhausting and frustrating for
him to get a whole sentence out within ten minutes; at least this
way he could express himself properly.
"But you need it," William countered, glancing at her
with a frown.
*What we need - all we've ever needed - is for you to be happy
and safe. I'll never be able to express how much I missed you or
the torturous hell walking out on you and your mom was for me,
but here I am with the chance to maybe stop you from ever having
to experience that yourself... If we could give you the world, we
would - you were the reason we kept fighting - but for now,
please take this.*
"Wish, William," Dana sniffed, somehow sensing it was
the perfect time to cut in. "Dreams are all there are left
for us to cling to now, and things can only get better from here
on, so embrace them."
William looked over at the window and out at the tumultuous sea -
the black clouds on the horizon marking the approach of the long,
dark, blistering cold winter. He had some worry, of course, for
the survival of his pregnant wife and three-year-old son, but
they were all healthy and used to getting through the five-month
period of non-stop snowstorms and endless night. It didn't need a
mind-reader, however, to see that both Mulder and Scully were
weakening and that it may take a miracle to help them get through
the season this time. "Maybe there's hope..." he sighed
under his breath.
Both Scully and Mulder sharply looked up and felt a shudder run
through them at the memory of the words spoken so many years ago
as they lay together in a dingy motel room and clear rain beat
against the windows... Words that had closed the door on their
old lives and begun a new, more dangerous but cherished one.
"I need to start making my way home before it gets too dark
to see the way," Will suddenly remarked, turning and
outstretching his arms to hug Scully - catching her completely
off-guard. "Can...Can I come back in a couple days?"
Okay, *now* she was completely off-guard.
"Of course!" she cried with delight, pressing her face
into the warmth of his chest. "Our home is your home. You
can come back tomorrow with your family if you want."
"No, I...uh...It's not wise for Joy to make the trip,
and...and I need some time to process all this properly -
everything's so surreal and all my beliefs I've held true for so
long have been blown to pieces...I--"
"It's...okay," Mulder assured, using all the energy he
could muster to sit upright on the mattress.
"We...understand."
The younger man quickly moved to embrace and support his father.
"I promise I'll be back, so please don't give up yet."
Mulder clamped his eyes shut to hold back the tears. Saying
goodbye to his son yet again was bad enough, but to keep hearing
words from so long ago was beginning to tear him apart.
XxXxXxXxX
SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON D.C
MAY 2001
"I promise I'll be back, so please don't give up yet, and
definitely refrain from growing too quickly." Wet hazel eyes
stared down at the sparkling sapphires that regarded him
intently. He gladly accepted when a small fist reached up toward
him, and encased it in one of his much larger hands. "Soon,
buddy. Soon we'll be a family again and then nobody will be able
to keep us apart - the world will be ours. I love you and Mommy
so much, I'll do whatever it takes to protect the two of you, and
that's the only reason I'm going, so don't ever think it's
because I never wanted you or loved either of you." Unable
to resist the need to hold the tiny bundle one last time, Mulder
reached over the crib further and carefully scooped his newborn
son up into the cradle of his arms. William immediately reached
to swat at his father's nose, whilst the other hand continued to
tightly hold on to Mulder's index finger. "You're gonna play
for the Yankees one day, kiddo, you wait. You'll be MVP every
year of your career, and the ladies will swoon as they chant your
name. And even if you don't take up baseball or anything like
that, no matter what you do you'll always make your parents so
proud...and we'll always be there, t-t-together, to watch o-out
for you..."
"No one can live on dreams," Scully's voice suddenly
croaked from the bedroom doorway. "They only delude and
leave you bereft, alone."
He knew what she was getting at, and in this situation all hopes
and dreams for a future together had been stolen from them yet
again. But he wasn't ready to stop believing that there really
could be a time when they'd be a normal, happy family.
Nor would he disallow his son the chance to dream the impossible
dreams.
"They cost nothing, and in the end, do they really
hurt?" he remarked, holding William against his chest and
gently swaying to and fro.
"It hurts like hell right now."
"Never give up on a miracle and you'll be blessed, seek and
ye shall find, believe and almost anything can happen. We need to
fight this, Scully, but I can't do it if you're saying all my
dreams for us are a waste of time."
"I wish it were that simp--"
"Then *please* say the words and we can--"
Scully quickly shook and lowered her head as she took a few steps
towards him. She'd tried to keep this goodbye as uncomplicated as
possible for the sake of his sanity as well as her own, yet it
looked doubtful the tears or frustration would remain dormant
until he'd gone. "You know if I could I would."
"Then let me have this memory" - he kissed the top of
Will's head and then bent to cover her lips with his own for
seconds that just didn't last long enough - "and build upon
it with the wish...the hope...that I'll be able to do that again
very, very soon and forever after."
'Soon'... The word held so much tantalizing promise, how could
she ignore it?
"Soon," she uttered, smiling, and making her own silent
wish for that same thing.
XxXxXxXxX
PRESENT DAY
Scully was standing by the window when he snapped awake. Not
knowing he'd only dozed off for no more than ten minutes, he
began to panic - scared of what he may have missed or (God
forbid) imagined.
"Scully?"
"He's standing out there on the beach," she whispered,
as if saying the words too loudly would shatter the vision she
was beholding. "Do you think...Do you think he will come
back?"
Mulder rolled to her side of the bed, and she turned away from
the window to help him up.
"Least we at know alive were he's and him able see to
again," he sighed, resting an arm around her shoulders but
trying not to weigh her down too much as she struggled to get him
in a standing position. "Than better seeing much not all him
at ." He growled with undying frustration at his nonsensical
sentences, but it turned into a grimace as his partner begun
leading him the few painful steps forward to the glass portal.
Eventually, they were side-by-side, staring down at the lone
finger on the beach - their son, who they'd believed would be
lost to them forever. They were rare and difficult to notice, but
it was small, miraculous blessings like this that begged the
question: is there somebody looking out for us?
Keeping her arm securely around Mulder's waist, Scully lifted her
free hand and rested the palm against the cold pane - obscuring
Will from view as if she could keep him in her grasp forever..
After a beat, Mulder slowly lifted one of his own hands and laid
it over hers.
"The rest...is...his...choice..."
~~~~
William stood alone and looked down at the metallic object in his
hand for long moments before turning his attention to the horizon
as words and thoughts and feelings swam around in his brain. He
knew what he wanted to wish for - above replenishment of the
planet, or even how things had been in the Before time - but even
something like this had to be rationalized si that it wasn't
wasted.
'Wish, William.'
How could two words haunt him so much? A tiny part of him wished
he'd never come here and complicated things, and yet the rest of
him, just by listening to them, sensing what they shared
together, hearing the story of what they'd really been through,
made him feel...different, changed - more mature, wiser, aware
and understanding of what was going on around him, and grateful
for the life that he had. He'd never be able to pinpoint the
exact moment the shift in his being had occurred, or if it had
been there inside him the whole time waiting for this
reconnection with the two people that would give - had, in fact,
given - their lives for him.
What he did know was what needed to be done now.
Just as his mother came here to thank God for giving them the
strength to see the good fight through to its end, he needed to
give his own thanks for the completely unselfish choices and
sacrifices that had been made to ensue the preservation of his
existence.
He glanced up at the house, just able to see the palm pressed
firmly against the window of the bedroom upstairs, before staring
back out at the waves. "I wish," he whispered,
tightening his hold on the artifact, "more than anything,
that the pain can end for them - that they can finally find some
kind of peace. They've suffered enough...Give them what they
want, what they deserve."
Nothing left to say or do, he slowly walked away for what he
believed may be the last - if not second-to-last - time.
XxXxXxXxX
BOUNDLESS BEACH
FREESOL, WASHINGTON
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25th 2024
6:10 AM
She stood alone, the first few snowflakes of the impending winter
blowing around her and cold teardrops slipping down her pale
cheeks. These moments of loneliness were far from rare, but today
was different...
Today she'd woken up, but Mulder hadn't despite her prods and
incessant calls of his name. She'd tried to feel for his pulse,
but her heart had been thumping so fast in the confines of her
chest as heightening terror refused to release her from its grip
that two fingers against his neck and wrists had only returned
her own frantic beat. The tiny wisp of breath against her skin
had been fractionally reassuring, yet still there'd been no
response from his unmoving form.
The outside of his wounds had healed over, but how much internal
damage had been done? Had his brain finally given up?
Had yesterday's exertions been enough to push and rush his body
to the end of its journey?
Dana sharply shook her head in dismissal of the thoughts that had
been running through her head for the past forty-two minutes.
There were a thousand different explanations for her partner's
non-response apart from the one she feared the most, and today
had to be a good day (it really *had* to be) for Christmas and
because they now knew their 'lost' miracle was as safe as they'd
always wished for him to be...She just prayed she knew which of
those diagnosis's needed to be rectified.
Reaching up for the tiny cross that still hung around her neck,
she begun to recite the Lord's Prayer.
"I...love you..."
She jumped as an arm encircled her waist and the voice rasped
against her ear - the warm breath in complete contrast to the
wind's dropping temperature. That low tone had sounded so
familiar...but it couldn't be - this morning's catatonic state
aside, there was no way he could have made it all the way down to
the beach with her supporting his frame, let alone by himself!
What she wouldn't give for it to be him, but it couldn't be....it
just couldn't--
Quickly, she pulled away and turned to see Mulder - against all
odds - slightly hunched but standing there nevertheless.
"How d--...Mulder!" Arms sharply wrapped around him and
pulled him close to both hug and support, before she lowered them
both to sit on the sand. The 'hows' were not important, but the
fact that he was alive was. "Are you...okay?" She
couldn't stop touching him - whilst one hand stroked up and down
his forearm the other smoothed over the lines wrinkling his brow
and then combed through his hair. "I got so scared earlier
when you didn't wake up."
"Feelin'...different..." He was still hesitating to
consider his words, and his breaths were coming so fast that it
sounded as if he had just run a marathon, but there was a lot
more surety, order and comprehensible pronunciation to his
sentences. "Ache, but not...incapacitating...
Can't...explain." Mulder paused and, with the tiniest
grimace, reached up to cup her cheek in his palm. "Your
wish...came...true... Why do you...put...up with...me?"
Scully shook her head and only broke their eye-contact for a
second to glance out at the sea. "I didn't make my wish
yesterday - William arrived when I was still thanking God for
watching over us and giving me you...Maybe He fell behind with
all the wishes from others sent His way." It didn't make
sense, but then little in their lives ever had, so there was no
point asking questions now - especially out in the cold as the
falling snow begun to thicken. "Come on, let's get you back
inside..."
"Maybe...it...was...somebody else," Mulder cut in
before she could stand again. "Maybe William--"
"No." It was hazy, but she could still remember the
mobile over Will's crib spinning, the artifact hovering above his
head... Anything was possible, and it was likely that what she
knew Mulder had been about to suggest would turn out to be true,
but she refused to hear or consider it for the simple reason that
if that conclusion was reached a floodgate of possibilities and
dangerous ideas would be opened. "It was just...just our
time to get a lucky break..."
"A Christmas...miracle?" He smiled, reassuring her that
he knew what she was doing and why because whatever she feared he
feared too. As she returned the smile and helped him back to his
feet, he sighed, "'bout time. Scully?"
"Yeah?"
"Merry...Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too." Her arm tightened around
him as they made their way back up the trail to their home.
"A *very* merry one."
"Scully?"
"Mm?"
"What happened...a-again? Tell me...all...the story..."
"Really?"
"P-please."
"Okay...I guess it was all my fault in a way - I'd been
moaning about the lack of supplies..."
The front door clicked shut as the dusty earth was completely
blanketed by white. They had the scars, the memories, the
nightmares, the pain to show what they'd been through, as well as
Freedom, Hope and Survival as their medals, but as they sat down
in front of the lit fireplace, wrapped tightly in each other's
embrace, and talked of Tooms, El Chupacabra, fat suckers, a
shape-shifting loner, genies, OPC hearings...even hospital
vigils...it could easily have been nineteen-ninety-something
again - they young, truthseeking FBI agents.
It was exactly how they'd wanted to see out their days together,
and they looked forward to meeting their son again as well as his
wife and children before that end came.
It was their own wish come true on the holiest of days on an
unholy, forgotten planet.
To put it simply: it was perfect.
XxXxXxXxX
THE END
*************************
'Good luck! I
wish you well,
and for all that wishes may be worth;
I hope that love and strength
are with you for the length
of your time on earth.'
.........................~'A Winter's Tale' by David Essex
*************************
DISCLAIMER:
All things X belong to CC, 1013, Fox and the rest of the posse
that I sadly have no affiliation with :( I'm not making any
money, Mr Legal-types, but come on! If the second movie is not
post-s9, how are we supposed to find closure of any kind
ourselves? You got paid for making the mess, so unmake it please!
bravenet.com