From: Humbuggie Date: 15 Aug 2003 07:47:33 -0700 Subject: xfc: I wish 1/1 Source: atxc I wish By Humbuggie C 2003 feedback san@sv-tales.com This vignette is dedicated to Lisa, who recently lost her father. She is one of my best friends and I wanted to write this little thing for her, to tell her how sorry I am for her. She knows that written words express my feelings for her and her loss better. I dedicate it also to those who have lost a parent. This vignette takes place after Anasazi. Mulder overthinks his father's sudden death as he relives the events in Scully's apartment. Oh god. Oh dear god, please no. I wish for it not to have happened. I wish for it to go again. I wish for it to be part of a dream that engulfs me, takes me and forces me into a realm I don't want to be in. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to say. I have known this would happen. I could sense it. It was as if it was meant to be, predicted by the events that unfolded before us. Somehow I have always known he would not become an old man, living a gentle life. For that, too much has already happened. He has been through so much, seen so many things and experienced so many losses. I wish I could take away all the pain and give him a happy life over and over again. Something was off. Terribly wrong. I wish I had known upfront. I wish my intuition had told me better things so I could have stopped it. I wish I could go back just an hour in time and tell him how I feel about him. I wish I could go back and take the bullet upon me that caused the end of his life. I wish I could see how much he had been hurting. I wish I was closer to him. I wish ... He and I loved each other. We cared for each other. But sometimes, we didn't know each other. At times, we detested each other. Yet he was always there for me, even though he probably had no idea what I went through. I always saw a bit of resentment in his eyes. I always felt he did not care enough for me after Samantha was taken. But he was my father. I loved him. He loved me. Perhaps he was afraid to love, or be loved. Perhaps he didn't want me to take him in my arms and hug him, and tell him. I wish ... Perhaps there is a way of going back. Perhaps I should see him in my dreams one day and tell him what the truth is. How it has always lived inside of me, caring for him as if nothing in the world ever matters. He is the father who raised me, who wanted me to go to Oxford, who told me to study and become a good man. Who disapproved of me going to the FBI. Who wanted me to stop finding out the truth. Who detested the fact I entered the X-Files and slowly discovered he might have something to do with it. Whose teary eyes rested upon mine when he said there were so many things that could not be told. I wish... I held him in my arms and he was gone. He became the face of my quest, the image of the truth, the consequence of my actions. I love him. He was my father. In the end, I wish that we could always remember the good things. That all that is left for us, all that has made our lives worthwhile, all that we have done together, enjoyed together, is still amongst us. I wish that I could take out that part inside my brain that tells me not all of it was good. I wish that I was strong enough to rejoice the life he had. I know that I can. I'll have to. I will. I wish. End