From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 27 Mar 2005 06:22:50 -0000
Subject: Easter Vigil by bellefleur
Source: direct

Reply To: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com


TITLE: EASTER VIGIL
AUTHOR: bellefleur
EMAIL ADDRESS: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: sure
RATING: for all ages
CLASSIFICATION: V
SPOILER WARNING: DeadAlive
DISCLAIMER: Not mine; they belong to CC, FOX, etc. 
SUMMARY: He is risen, indeed.


* * * * *

Resurrection. 

It was something that Scully had never really contemplated 
before.  It was an essential tenet of her faith, and thus she 
embraced it or discarded it as her belief waxed and waned, but 
she had never fully considered whether she could accept it as a 
fact in and of itself. 

If she was honest with herself, it was one of those questions 
she avoided asking because of the implications of the answer.  
As a doctor, she knew she couldn't accept the claim that a human 
being could be buried and dead and then be healthy and alive 
again days later.  It wasn't scientifically possible.  Death was 
a one-way journey, and the body, the discarded luggage.  You 
couldn't return and reclaim the flesh.  It just didn't happen. 

But these days, she's no longer sure what to believe.  Belief 
seems more tangible to her than science, and the inexplicable is 
her new reality.  The laws of the universe were apparently made 
to be broken, and she stands witness, overwhelmed. 

In this land of miracles, the barren conceive, and the dead live 
again.  Resurrection is possible.  Perhaps it is even to be 
expected.  She isn't sure, since she no longer understands the 
rules. 

All she knows for sure is that he was dead.  She held his 
lifeless body.  She touched his decaying flesh.  She stood watch 
as they sealed him in the casket and then lowered him into the 
ground. 

He was dead.  And then he wasn't. 

He is risen. 

As she sits by his side now and holds his hand, her fingers 
resting on his steady pulse, she turns toward the window to view 
the rising of the sun as its first rays break through the 
darkness and begin to warm her face.  The light that was 
extinguished the night before, leaving behind only gloom and 
chill, has fulfilled its promise and returned.  New hope has 
dawned. 

She returns her gaze to the sleeping form in the bed as her free 
hand absently fingers the cross at her neck.  Not a crucifix, 
but an empty cross.  He is not here; he is risen. 

He is risen, indeed.


THE END

* * * * *

Author's Notes:  Since I can't figure out the season 8 timeline, 
I have no idea when Mulder's resurrection really occurs, but for 
this story, just pretend with me that it happens at Easter.


Visit my stories at: http://www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013

Send feedback to: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com