Redemption (26/26) by GeorgeHale Rating: R Feedback: Classification: Colonization/Mythology/MSR/William, post I.W.T.B. Canon. Spoilers: Left, right, & center. This is best served if you REALLY know your X-Files. Disclaimer: I wish I made this. This has been my catharsis, five years in the making. Maybe it can be one for you, too. Warning: Violence, Gratuitous employment of the 'Our little sailor' clause (swearing,) Fluff with two 'f's, Cheesy dialogue, Friendly Ghosts, Melodramatics, Plot devices, Fiji Mermen (no, not really,) Angst, Blasphemy, Dehydration via crying, Scientific Whammies, Plams, Lots & Lots & Lots of...Bees, Magical Growing Scully Cross Chain, Red Herrings. It's going to get strange and ugly before the end. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Epilogue ------------------------------------------------------------------ "My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began, So is it now I am a man, So be it when I shall grow old Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety." - William Wordsworth, My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold ------------------------------------------------------------------ Hope springs eternal, so I'm told. Dad said it called to him like a homing beacon, but I'm not really sure if that's how it happened or not. What shouldn't have shocked me was that the house was here when we arrived, just as he had described it. The oak tree I had envisioned so often stood growing as if the rest of the world hadn't really changed that much at all. My parents had planted it here for me so it could be an anchor and it is. I'm not sure if it connects this plane of existence with any others but I do know that deep roots are not reached by the frost. Looking down and out toward the horizon, I can clearly see the beach where we woke up when the world was new, where my dreams still take me. Now and then, some new survivor still wakes up, but there's plenty here for more. Everything else seemingly erased and remade except this isolated patch of Eden in what might have once been Virginia, a land you'll only know from fairy tales. The sea is calm and bright. The waves are gentle as they lap at the shore. Even the birds sound like they've found peace. Maybe it's just me because I'm so damn happy. My dreams have been of blowing the seeds of dandelions from this cliff, watching them catch the breeze, but there was a new visitor the other night that distracted me. It's to you I write this as I picture you playing down below by the shore. No one else knows about you yet and the suspense is making my hands tremble, but I recognize you. It's awful hard to miss that nose. We haven't told anyone, but your mother and I have been waiting patiently for you for a while now. People have been pestering us since Father Kryder married us where I sit. I didn't want a ceremony, but the people here like any excuse for a celebration. She's going to be thrilled to meet you, but she'll have to wait. We agreed long ago that I'd get to choose your name if you were a boy, but I don't think she'll like the one I have in mind. Like the Rachel rescued Ishmael, she's saved me a hundred times over, so I may have to consider her thoughts on the matter. Mom says the best relationships, the ones that last, are often rooted in friendship. She's a wise woman, your Grandma. A whole firing squad will be waiting for you with love and affection and God knows what else. You'll have your pick of doting grandparents and uncles. I've been glad to have them as my family, to be able to care for them the way they once cared for me. It strikes me that I'll need to expand our small cabin. It's not much, but more than enough. When you're older, we can plant another acorn together outside your window. I'll face your room toward the orchard, where the sun rises. Maybe you'll follow in my and Grandma's footsteps and become a healer. A man holds high hopes for his son. We've been given a chance here to start over again with this world. We'll be the stewards we never were before and prepare in case the Colonists ever return. Sometimes I sit here and wonder about the Voyager spacecraft...if it's still out past Pluto broadcasting where we are for anyone who wants to listen or if we've entered an entirely new realm. I don't think our white whale will lie in our oceans, but out in that vast beyond. Deep below this ocean, the remnants of those other old worlds lay sleeping. Maybe if we can hold on to the lessons the past should have taught us and reinvent the wheel, we won't fuck it up this time. We'll appreciate all the simple pleasures without taking them for granted and take time to do things right. We'll grow and rebuild civilization, each of us a gardener, a carpenter, a healer, a sentinel. We'll survive, we'll evolve, we'll thrive. Your grandparents are out exploring again. We're still not sure how far this continent stretches or if there are others. I think they like it here. Dad says he got all three of his wishes after all. I can imagine you becoming an explorer like them. Maybe we'll be able to visit this undiscovered country together some day. Ten months is a hell of a long time to wait, but I'll be here, ready for what dreams may come. That's what I want to believe, anyway. W.F. Mulder Hope Springs New Earth New Year's Day, P.C. 15 ------------------------------------------------------------------ *A.E.D.E.G.E .*