Letum est non terminus
Guns were worthless. She knew they would be, and yet holding one in preparation to fire had given her a small sense of power, a sense of hope that she could fight it—that she could stop it. When They entered the building, Their heavy boots cracked broken glass under the front windows, and she knew that it was finished. Her weapon had been braced in front of her, her finger on the trigger, when she looked at Mulder—the man who knew her heart better than she. Hiding was not an option; running was not an option. For a long moment, frozen in time, she and her husband studied one another. She wasn't sure, but she remembered nodding first. His expression softened, his eyes glistening with tears, but he was almost smiling. She smiled. The children were safe, together, and maybe this broken world could hold a future for them. Maybe in their lifetimes, it would truly be over. Dana smiled, because she knew this wasn't giving up; it was recognizing when their part, their purpose in the fight, had ended. Gibson would carry on; he would bring hope and leadership to a new generation born in the world After. We fought the good fight, and we never gave up. Everything we stood for, everything we sacrificed, everything we lost, led to this moment. I wouldn't change it.
"I wouldn't change it," she said.
Mulder nodded, and their lips met. She felt his heat, his reassurance that she wasn't alone; that she would never be alone again. Words didn't matter. Love was with them. Truth was with them. Faith was with them. The guns clattered to the ground as they stood, leaning into one another, holding hands, fingers linked; and they faced the enemy outside as believers. Unafraid.
--
He could still feel the heat on his back from the fire looming behind him, the smoke billowing in the clear morning sky. After They took he and Dana, Their leader set fire to the ruined store, creating an enormous explosion. Inside, the members of the congregation burned alive when their prayers were interrupted. I suppose they got what they wanted; a quick and painless end. He must have slowed his pace, because he felt a sharp tug on the chains securing his wrists behind his back. Glancing over his shoulder around one of Them, he saw Dana being led on the same chain. Death itself did not scare him, but the possibility that the end of this life could truly be the end terrified him. I wish we could have one more morning, one more petty argument, one more drive, one more dance, one more kiss…But this can't be the end. This can't be all there is. Scully, I'll find you after, I promise. We'll go on together. I believe.
"Here. We stop here!" the leader called from the front of the procession.
Mulder looked up to see a large oak tree; large and ancient and beautiful, it's gnarled limbs like the fingers of an old man. It reminded him of a tree in the Vineyard behind his old house. He helped Samantha put up a tire-swing, but when she got on, the rope snapped and she broke her collar bone. 'I'm sorry, Sam. Do you want me to read to you? It might help if I read. What about The Hobbit?'
Two of Them swung thick rope over the largest branches. Dana was pushed to one side and Mulder to the other.
"One at a time or together?" one of Them called from the crowd gathered around the tree.
"One at a time! We will make this last!" the leader cried.
The others cheered and laughed, but Mulder didn't hear Them, nor did he see Them. He felt himself being raised on the shoulders of one as a loop of rope slipped over his head.
"We execute two of our enemies today to show them that they cannot win. And if they chose to disobey us, this will be the fate of their entire race! We will record this execution to display as a lesson to all those that would defy us!"
His mother holds him in a rocking chair on the screened-in porch. The whispering sounds of waves on the Atlantic lull him to sleep. She sings an Irish hymn softly while she wraps the quilt around his small body as a shield against the wind.
Samantha runs across the yard in the pink and orange haze of twilight. She opens her chubby fingers to show him her little miracle; a firefly shimmering in its own yellow glow.
The office door opens, and a young woman steps inside. He doesn't want to trust her. He doesn't want to let her in. For a fleeting moment, he wonders what her lips would feel like against his own.
He feels the tiny metal cross resting against the pulse on his neck. He brushes it gently with his fingers.
He knew her before this life. She has always been his friend. He has always loved her. Now he understands.
Dancing, dancing, twirling her around in circles. She wears a dark red dress and she's laughing. It's like no other sound on earth.
He watches her sleeping in the hospital bed and he prays for her, even though he doesn't really believe that anyone is listening.
Patches of sunlight fall over the white sheets. Her red hair is tousled, fanned out across the pillow as she sleeps. He smoothes his fingers over her creamy skin. Her lips are still swollen and full from passionate kisses the night before.
He feels her hand squeezing his, and he opens his eyes. He doesn't understand why she's crying.
He takes the baby in his arms, and he is astounded at how much he can love someone that he's known for less than a minute.
He gently brushes the tissue across her cheek to dry the tears. She looks up at him from the operating table with large, frightened eyes. He doesn't want her to know how afraid he is.
Abigail's tiny, sticky fists fit perfectly inside his large hands. He holds her steady while she takes her first steps.
Darkness and then a light that gets brighter. He knows she's not far behind.
--
She heard the rope drop with his weight, and she couldn't hold back a sob.
Together. I always knew we would go together. It couldn't end any other way.
The crowd shouted and clapped. They seemed like a hazy, dark blur to her tired eyes. Suddenly, she gasped and blinked to assure herself that what she saw was real. Slowly making her way to the front of the group was Melissa, looking just as she had seventeen years before; long, curly auburn hair, flowing skirt, black chocker. They couldn't see her. She looked up at Dana and smiled as she opened her arms widely.
Thank you, Missy. I'm coming home. Tell Ahab I'll be there soon. This is not the end. Today, I see God. I believe, Mulder. I believe enough for both of us.
The rope tightened roughly around her neck, and she did not see nor hear anything that followed.
Her father reads Moby Dick after he tucks her in. She doesn't understand the words, but she is captivated by the pictures of the sea.
She and Missy watch heavy drops of rain pound against the glass on the patio door. They take turns counting the seconds before the next clap of thunder, and they squeal each time it gets louder.
Her heart beats faster when she places the cigarette between her lips and strikes the match to light the tip. Tonight she feels dangerous. Tonight she knows what it means to be alive.
She tries to keep her fingers from shaking as she inserts the trachea tube through the skin on the boy's throat. His warm, sticky blood flows onto her hands. Less than an hour later, he opens his eyes. She weeps softly at the feeling of giving a stranger a second chance.
Wearing nothing but her bathrobe and underwear, she knocks on the door of his motel room. She doesn't want to let him see her fear. Butterflies dance in her belly when his warm fingers brush against her bare skin.
He's sitting at the table across from Modell , his fingers resting on the barrel of the gun. He's stronger than this. She needs him to fight it. Today she realizes how much she loves him.
She sees tears in his eyes when he brushes the skin above his upper lip with his finger to let her know she's bleeding again.
They sit on his couch at four a.m. and watch the sci-fi channel. He turns the volume down on the horrible zombie movie and they laugh hysterically as they write their own dialogue.
She fastens her necklace around the little girl's neck lovingly, and she wonders what it would sound like to be called 'Mommy'.
The first time she feels the baby move inside, it's like the delicate flutter of butterfly wings. She begins to sob, because she knows that this little creature is all she has left of him.
William's shrill cry is the most magical sound she has ever heard. Monica wraps him in a towel and places him on her belly. She's not afraid anymore.
He holds her close in the motel bed. She knows it's not the end, but rather, a new beginning. They have the power to save themselves.
She laughs so forcefully that tears stream down her cheeks while he tries to explain to Abigail why she must learn her 'k' sound. 'Kitty, Abby. Say Kitty. It doesn't sound nice when you say titty.'
She finds a trail of her make-up compacts leading into Abby's room, and when she opens the door, she discovers that her daughter is playing 'dress-up like Mommy'. It takes two hours of scrubbing the little girl's rosy cheeks to remove the mess of lipstick and eye liner.
The light comes and envelopes her in its heat. She's not alone.
--------
"Momma, why wasn't Charlotte in the barn when Wilbur came back?"
"Because Charlotte died. She was very old."
"But she'll come back, won't she? How could she leave everybody she loved?"
"She can't come back. Her body was tired, and it was time for her to rest. But her love and spirit will stay close to everyone she touched in life."
"Momma…am I going to die?"
"Yes, Dana."
"I don't want to."
"Nobody wants to, but it's a part of living…Don't cry…you're not going to die for a long time. There are many things you have yet to see and learn and know and love before your life here is finished. And afterwards, you'll go on to the next life…and the people you love will be with you always.