From: Humbuggie <san@sv-tales.com>
Date: 19 Aug 2003 08:33:38 -0700
Subject: xfc: Wash down the heartache 1/1
Source: atxc

Wash down the heartache
By Humbuggie
Feedback to san@sv-tales.com
C 2003 

Written for the After-the-fact challenge "Je Souhaite"
With gratitude to Jenna, Debbie and Lisa for the little throwing around
of ideas and their endless support in all my efforts to write decent
fanfic and all that real life stuff hanging around. 

Dedicated to Mulder's Refuge for being such a wonderful place that
fulfils all of your wishes. 

Type: MSR, MT, Angst and lots more. No NC17 stuff but a few references
to sexual innuendos. Don't worry, there is not much smooching going on
if you don't like that sort of thing. 

The story is written from the genie's POV. 

Spoilers: Je Souhaite and Requiem. 

Note from the author: I have this thing about seasons 8 and beyond. I
don't write about them. But for this fic, I have decided to go with the
flow here and there. You'll know what I mean. 


the street bears no relief
when everybody's fighting
the street bears no relief
with light so hot and binding

I run the stairs away
and walk into the night time
the sadness flows like water
and washes down the heartache


Wash down the heartache

I tremble. I fear. I hope. I pray. 
Nothing works. 
If only I could inflict one wish upon myself. If only someone would come
and wash down the heartache. 

"I've got it Jenn. This is it. My third wish." 

Silence and expectation rush through me. My heart lifts for one mere
moment, hoping it will be granted that one exclusive wish that I have
been aching for, for so long. Hope, despair and then fear follow in
frenzy. 
Please, please, please. Please let him grant me life. Please let him
have learned the hard way that you cannot meddle with the forces of
nature, of life and death, of truth and non-truth. Please let him accept
what I want to become -

He won't. I can see it in his eyes. He is far out there thinking of ways
to change his chosen path forever. Just like all the others he's just a
selfish bastard with nothing on his mind but his own preservation. They
are all the same, aren't they? And I'm growing tired of them. Just let
me go back to my little island and diminish all sense of hope that I've
become accustomed to the minute I met this man. 

"I really do have it," he quips and he relaxes in his seat in his
office. 
And what do I do? I become the same witty, dry-humored genie I've been
for so long now. The bitterness overwhelms my voice and entire being and
I know I cannot deny who I've become such a long time ago. 

"What is it this time?" I ask dryly. "A dog? Or a cat perhaps that you
can keep as company because you're too afraid to get a decent woman in
your life to do your laundry and dishes. Or do you prefer another chance
to recreate the perfect world?" 

He smiles at me. "You really have become a bitter person, Jenn, do you
know that?"

I inhale sharply. "No," I say. "I'm being a realist. So should you. Come
on, spill the beans Agent Mulder. I'm sure your brilliant eidetic mind
has already concocted of something extraordinary that I cannot wait to
fulfil. Now make it quick and then let me crawl back into the carpet for
a long winter's sleep before the next silly human being comes along." 

He takes a deep breath and I watch his mortal form inhale and exhale
before his hazel eyes stare into mine. He becomes serious. His voice
doesn't quiver, shake or sound hoarse. He is as self-assured about this
wish as he was of the two he has already wasted.
 
"I want you to keep Scully alive, well, safe and out of harm," he says.
"Give her a harbour, a place where she can find relief of all problems
and sorrow. Make sure that she will not suffer from everything that will
happen to us in future. I want her to stand above it all. I want her to
live a complete, full life that bears no further scars or wounds. I want
her healthy enough to ." 

"To what -?" I hear a voice say and realize it's me. 

". to have a baby." 

My heart sinks. My hope fades. I look up in pure shock and stare at
Mulder and I know that I'm not able to shut the light of disappointment
out of my eyes. Yet at the same time I am in awe that he would give away
his wish to someone else. It is one of the most selfless things a man
can do. He proves his worth, even if he does not see what lies in my
eyes. And I realize with a shock that he doesn't know. He doesn't know
that she is already with child. I could feel it the moment I saw her.
How come they don't know? 

"I -" I want to say it, but don't. I cannot tell him about the future
and the hidden truths behind closed doors and within human bodies. I'm
not a fortune teller but I can touch the future and know what it holds
in store. 
Oh god, why couldn't he have wished for my freedom instead of her
future? Why couldn't he have sacrificed it to set me free? I cannot
stand the pain anymore. It's killing my mind. My faith in humanity is
obliterated and I don't know how to restore it. 

Then I know in a flash that the agent does know what I'm going through.
His eyes speak of certain regret, an apology for not saving me, instead
saving someone else. She is more important to him than me. Why would he
even help me? He doesn't know me. He'll have forgotten about me. I'm
just another case file to him. 

"I'm sorry," he words. "I really am, but this is what I want." 

If I have one wish in the world to do, I would grant it for myself. I
would be free. I would be sipping coffee at Starbuck's, watching the
pedestrians stroll by on their every day effort to be a part of their
grey human existence. I would finally become one of them, be like them,
smell like them, eat like them and breathe like them. 

I want that human existence, despite the arguments, the fights, the wars
and the dangers. I want to take the risk of becoming a mortal, of dying
just like them and becoming that human I want to be. I would take a
simple, easy job that would allow me just enough money to survive in
some sleazy apartment in New York. I would work in a diner or a pub and
return home afterwards and flip channels until my eyes hurt and forget
there is such a thing as another world where one can live on forever. 

I would find a decent guy who would like me and love me and give me
children. Yeah, I would like children. A boy and a girl, twins maybe. I
would name them William (after the man whom I believed would set me
free, and sorry, Fox is just too weird a name!) and Jennifer. I would
move upstate New York with my classy guy and have a huge Volvo to drive
the kids to school with. I would join some social societies and become a
hard-working mother. Perhaps I would become an aspiring actress and
follow classes and play now and then in small-time theatres around town.
Perhaps I could even work on soap opera's or present a cooking show on
Breakfast Today. 

I would grow old with my man and the kids and become a grandmother. And
the day that I die of old age, upstate in that house we built together,
I would have my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren by my
side and tell that every wish in the world can be granted to you. If
only you believe in it long and hard enough. 

All of that, all those wishes and dreams, thoughts and realizations
rested in my eyes and voice when I told Mulder earlier about my ultimate
wish. And he just nodded and wanted world peace instead. He didn't hear
me then, and he doesn't hear it now. He has his heart set on granting
his partner and friend the ultimate gift: a child. 

And still. Still I could picture him spotting what lies in my dark eyes
and grant me that one thing that no one has ever granted me in all these
past centuries. I have believed in man's good will and kindness but all
they ever did was wish for them. Money, possessions, horses, well-fare,
kids, wealth, success and all that other crap they believe they cannot
find themselves. 

I sigh. 
I cannot be angry with him. He cares for her so much and yet he doesn't
know what the consequences of his wish are. He doesn't realize the waste
of it. He doesn't know that it's a senseless wish. 

"What's wrong?" he asks. He is probably the most fascinating man I've
met in a long time. It is such a shame that he keeps on making the wrong
decisions.
Then again, are there ever any right ones?

"Your wish can be granted," I say, "but there is a consequence."

"Which is?"

"If you grant a wish to help someone else, that is a good thing.
However, the circumstances require that you will inflict harm upon
someone else."

"What?" He looks at me with a very surprised glare. "What are you
talking about? I'm doing nothing wrong, right? I want my friend to be
well. How can you punish me or anyone else for that?"

"You should know, Agent Mulder that all wishes are ultimately paid for.
That everything you have done so far has had its consequences. Wishing
for ultimate peace is one thing. Seeing the world vanish into a
cacophony of pure silence is something you don't want to grant upon
anyone. Yet the world would have stayed that way had you not undone it.
You would have lived alone forever until you would have died of boredom
and insanity. If you want to give your friend one life, another one will
eventually be taken." 

He stares at me as if I have gone mad. 
"An eye for an eye?" he spits. "Is that what this was about all along?
That's a load of crap." 

"Life is like that," I retort while leaning back casually against the
door. I shrug, trying to restore my old wit. I act careless, nonchalant.
"You take some, you give some. Are you willing to inflict harm upon
someone else to help her then? Would you be able to give up yourself for
example to help her?"

He quivers and shakes his head. He doesn't know the answer to the
question. I hope and pray he backs out of it and does not take the risk.
The truth is that I don't know who will get hurt. It could be anyone,
from - let's say - the mayor of New York to a hooker working in LA. Yet
I know from past experiences that it is usually someone in his circle of
friends or family: someone dear to him. 

"If I execute this wish, will Scully lead a safe life?" he asks. "Will
she be pregnant and have a healthy child?" 

"Yes. I give you my word." 
Stop lying, Jenn! I shout to myself. You know she's already pregnant.
It's a wasted wish. 
But it's not a lie. She will have a healthy child. And if his wish is
not executed, she will suffer dearly for it too. She will not be happy.
That's what the current future outline looks like. If I grant him his
wish, I will alter their future. She will be happy. 

"She would be protected from mortal danger?" he asks suspiciously,
obviously terrified that I'm going to swoosh her off this earth and send
her to paradise or something. That in itself would not even be such a
bad idea. 

"She would die of old age in the long run," I say. "She will have her
child, and she will grow old. She will be happy, in her own way." 

He hesitates for a moment longer. I think he is calculating the
possibilities and prospects of the danger to himself. He is certain that
he is the one who will be harmed. He looks up at me and nods. "Do it." 

I feel fear. I don't want this. Let the future be the future. Let it
remain as it is. Don't meddle with other people's lives. Except maybe
mine. 

"Do it, please," he repeats gently and then I know I cannot stop it. 

I close my eyes, refusing to look at him. Then I look up again. "It's
done," I speak harshly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm fairly certain
that someone else is waiting for three wishes to be granted in the
stupidest way possible." 

"Wait!" he says, grabbing my arm. I can't wince because I don't feel the
pain. I just feel the heartache. I would kill to know what a good beer
tastes like so I can pour it down my throat and get drunk as hell. Even
the cigarettes I smoke don't have a taste to them. They are nothing to
me.  

"What?" I ask angrily, not able to hide my contempt and sadness. 

"Will she notice anything different?" 

"She won't feel any more pain. Ever." 

"For as long as she lives?"

"Yes."

"And she's pregnant already?"

"It's done." I look at him. "I hope she had sex recently, otherwise the
world will look at her as the second Virgin Mary. Saint Scully: that has
a ring to it, doesn't it?" 

"Oh please," he quips. And he looks pleased with himself. 
"Yeah," he confirms then. "She's had sex recently. With explosive
orgasms." 

I find myself flushing in embarrassment for probably one of the few
times in my entire existence. Of course she had sex. With him! The baby
she carries in her womb is his. I want to touch him, to feel what his
future is like but I don't. I don't want to know if he'll die soon. 

"Good." He smiles satisfied. "Thank you Jenn." 

"Have a good life," I say. "And watch your back." 

A goofy grin on his face betrays how happy he is with the choice of his
third wish. 
I don't dare tell him that he is entitled to yet another three wishes
now. He doesn't know and as long as I don't have to tell him, I'm
keeping my trap shut. The only way to get more wishes is to do something
completely unselfish. By giving your wish to someone else, you are
entitled to ask for three more wishes. That's how it works. I didn't
tell him that. 
I don't want to. Not yet. He'll probably need them later on. 

I know I cannot leave his side. I need to stay with him for as long as
he's entitled those wishes. Right now though, god, I need some rest and
reorganization of my inner turmoil. Stuff all cute FBI-agents and their
spouses, partner, lovers or whatever. Let me return to the woman I once
was and the witty genie that looks down on the world and hates them all.
Who needs the damned FBI anyhow? 

***

The second I want to walk out of the basement office, Scully appears.
She has a newfound glow in her face that betrays so easily that she's
with baby. Only, she doesn't sense it yet. It won't be long though
before she realizes that there is a new life being created inside of her
womb. I want to be in her place so badly it hurts physically. 

Just get out of here, Jenn. Escape the pain. 

"Oh," she says startled and looks at Mulder, "I thought you would be
alone." 

"I was leaving," I retort, knowing she and I will never click.  

"Oh," she repeats and looks at Mulder. I see a strange jealousy in her
eyes, as if she is afraid I would take over her man. Despite my
heartache, the cynical smile that became a part of me so long ago
returns and I am tempted to tease her. I decide not to. 
"So, did you have your three wishes?" she asks. "What were they?" 

He gets up. I think he wants to take her in his arms but doesn't.
Instead, he asks her how she's feeling while his hand rubs up and down
her arm. She seems startled by his open affection. "I'm fine. Why?" 

His eagerness to embrace, his enthusiasm and funny comments are amusing
her. He's thinking of the explosive orgasms. Oh god. I don't need this.
Jealousy is an ugly but human beast. I probably never felt this human
before, not even when I was still a woman believing she would one day
have children. 

"What did you do?" Scully asks. "Make the world a better place by
serving free sunflower seeds?" 

"No, tofu popsicles," he grins. "And free baseball games." 

Now I see what I didn't notice the first time. There is something about
them, between them and it exists like a cocoon around them that no one
can break. No wonder. 

"What was your third wish?" she asks and Mulder freezes. He cannot
possibly tell her the truth. She would freak. He goes in search of some
excuse but doesn't come up with one.  
His phone rings as if on queue. He excuses himself and leaves me with
her. Scully directs herself to me. "So? She repeats. "What was it?" 

"I can't tell you that," I speak refined. "He has to." 
There is sadness in me that I cannot hide. She examines my face. 

"You're sad," she remarks. "Why?" 

I shrug. 

"Are you sad by his wishes?" 

"No." 

"Yes, you are. What did he wish for? You have to tell me." 

I open my mouth to deny any knowledge when Mulder hangs up the mobile.
He turns towards me with the most distraught face I have ever seen. The
phone still clings to his hand. I know it's bad. 

"What is it?" Scully asks, sensing something has changed in the air.
"What's wrong?" 

"It's -" He looks at her and then I know what happened. The most
important person in her life has been hurt, not in his. It's someone he
had never expected. He had taken the chance of sacrificing someone's
health for her, believing it would be his own. It isn't.  

He places the phone on the table and lays a hand on her arm. "Scully,
it's your mother. Bill just called. They couldn't get a hold of you.
Your cell is off. Something happened to her."

"What?" Scully blinks her eyelids, distraught and worried. "I just got
off the phone with her about an hour ago! Everything was fine. We had
lunch yesterday, you know she's in town. What happened?"

"They rushed her to Emergency. It's bad, he says. I don't know much
more."

"Where?" 

"D.C. General."

"Let's go then!" 

Scully grabs her purse and rushes outside. I try to follow her outside,
eager to escape this place and stay out of the mess I caused. I know
Mulder will blame me for it. He'll demand answers. 
He grasps my arm hard as soon as Scully is out the door, and pulls me
back in. 
"Is this it?" he asks, grasping my arm hard. His voice is cold. "Is this
the price to pay?"

I nod wearily. 

"Will she die?" 

I don't respond.

"Will - she - die?" 

"I don't know." 

"Undo it!"

"I can't."

"There must be a way." 

I open my mouth to explain he has three more wishes left, and then stop.
What if he doesn't withdraw his Scully-wish? What if he chooses the
alternative? I cannot let him do that. He doesn't know that any more
wishes will make it worse now. The situation can only be reversed if he
withdraws his wish. 

"I warned you," I say slowly. "You cannot push the limits of life and
then expect to pay nothing." 

"Surely you must have allowed people to help other people before!"

"And every time it backfired. The higher the question, the higher the
price. Curing someone from a disease is one thing, but you asked for a
life of happiness, prevailed from sickness or horridness that might some
day kill her. You asked for new life inside of her. Your request was far
grander than anything you were entitled to. An eye for an eye, remember?
A life for a life."

He lets go of my arm and winces. "So everything's cool as long as it's
on your terms, right? As long as you don't ask for too much like world
peace or the health of a friend? You're full of crap, Jenn. Your wishes
are worth nothing. Nothing!" 

"No one said it was easy." 

"Bullshit." 

"Go to her, Mulder," I say slowly and gently. "Help her if you can. You
asked for the wish and I warned you. You wouldn't listen. This is the
price you have to pay. I told you." 

"Go to hell, Jenn." 

He pushes me aside and rushes outside and I know I should go after him
and tell him the truth. But I can't. I can't tell him that the baby is
already there, breathing and living on its own. He would never believe
me. 
Oh god, what have I done?

***

I decide on my own account to follow them to hospital. I need to tell
him that anything he wishes for is dangerous now. If he just says, "I
wish I could ." it will change everything forever. I take a taxi to the
hospital and don't pay the cab driver. 
He calls after me as I rush inside the Emergency, yelling I'll get
someone to pay and of course don't. 

I find them in the small waiting room. They are alone. I wonder where
her family is. Aren't they living around here? Aren't they here to
support their mother? 

Scully seems to have forgotten about me and looks right through me while
biting her fingernails. Her partner stands distraught next to her and
grasps her when she turns to him, clutching him as if he's her beacon of
light. 

"What is happening here?" she exclaims. "I don't understand it. Mom's a
perfectly healthy woman. Healthy women should not die this way." 

"She's not going to die."

"I have a bad feeling." 

"Sometimes something like this happens," he tells her. He's obviously
hurting. He doesn't tell her the truth because he feels he doesn't know
how to find a way out. I have the way. I have to tell him. 

As I walk over to them, the doctor exits the ER-cubicle where a
brown-haired woman rests on machines and walks over to them. He looks
gravely serious, as they all do when something is wrong. 

"What is going on with my mother?" Scully asks stressed. "Is she going
to be alright?" 

"Your mother is unconscious and on a respirator to help her breathe. She
has suffered some sort of attack but I cannot tell you yet how or why.
All tests we've done so far came out positive. There is not a single
reason for her to be in this state. Apparently she fell and hasn't been
alert since we brought her in. Does she have a medical history you might
want to explain to me? Has this happened before?"

"No, she is in perfect health. She should be fine. I don't - I don't
understand this - I -" Scully stops and I watch with grief in my heart
when her friend and partner embraces her and holds her to his chest. 

"Is there anything we can do?" he asks the doctor.

"Pray and hope she'll wake soon. I'll keep you posted. We're doing tests
and will bring her to the ICU unit then." 

"Thank you, doctor."

The doctor nods and leaves them alone. I walk over to Mulder who doesn't
see me. He cups Scully's face in his hands and forces her to look at
him. "I swear I'll find a way to undo this," he says. "If I had one more
wish, I would take over your mother's disease. I swear."

A despair I have never felt before engulfs me. I sigh deeply when my
senses automatically spring into action. I hear myself say, "Is this
your wish?" 
He sees me now. 
And he understands by the tone of my voice he does have a chance to undo
Scully's pain. He is sacrificing himself for her and her future,
believing she will be happier with a baby and her mother, than with him.


"Do it," he whispers hoarsely.

"Undo your wish upon Scully. Do not sacrifice yourself," I plead with
him. "This is not the way." 

"No, do it! I don't want her mother to suffer any longer. Take me
instead." 

I close my eyes. "Granted," I whisper sadly. 

When I look up again, I see Mulder's slim body fall silently to the
ground. One second he is holding onto Scully. The next he closes his
eyes, loses consciousness and falls forward, almost dragging her with
him. She cries out his name. 
He lands face down, on his stomach, on the cold tiles, one arm twisted
underneath him and the other over his head. His eyes remain closed. I
know he will not respond to anything, anymore. It's over. 

And Scully screams for help while cupping his face as he has cupped hers
earlier. 
"Mulder?" she repeatedly says. "Mulder, listen to me. Mulder, hear me.
Mulder, please. Mulder -" 

When she looks up in tears, she suddenly sees her mother standing
wearily in the doorway, clutching her head and supported by a doctor and
nurse. She looks extremely pale, but very healthy. 

"Dana?" she asks numbly. "What happened?" 

Scully's look goes from her mother to Mulder, and from Mulder to me. And
she knows the second I turn my head away. 

***

"We don't have much time. Put him on the respirator now."

"We're losing him! His vitals are all screwed up."

"What the hell is happening here? Mr. Mulder, can you hear us? If you
can, try to move your hand or toes."

"No response. This is serious folks. Get him hooked up. Is he breathing?
Okay."

"Vitals? Normal? That can't be. They were going through the roof a few
moments ago." 

Nothing works to get Mulder to respond to any stimuli. He lies white as
a sheet on the bed, hooked to a respirator that breathes for him in the
same unit Scully's mother lay in a few moments ago. 

I stand in the small doorway and watch them work on him. Scully is
inside the cubicle, despite the staff's reluctance to let her in.
Margaret Scully, as I learn her mother's name is, is being examined in
the other room. I know they'll find nothing. She'll be in perfectly good
health and unaware of anything that has happened to her. 

I also know that Mulder will die. He has taken her ailments upon his
body and even though he's physically stronger than her, he will surely
not live to see another day. He is paying the ultimate price for someone
else's health. 
But he doesn't have to. I need to tell him that. I'm obligated to do so.
He needs to know. 
 
I look at Scully: in extremely good health, beautiful and with baby. I
can almost see it grow inside of her, as small as the top of an index
finger right now, but ready to grow and be a part of this world. 

The baby is Mulder's. I know that by the way they looked at each other.
I am jealous of their love and affection. And now he'll never see his
son. He won't know what kind of child it is going to be. How it has been
created by love and miracles.  

Scully holds his hand and cries for him when he is moved to the ICU. I
hang around because I have nowhere else to go. Please, let someone take
me out of this misery and end it. I don't want to do this anymore. All I
do is destroy lives. 

***

Mulder will never be able to speak out the other two wishes and in a
strange twist of fate I am obligated to stay with him. He's my master,
so to speak. I cannot go to someone else until he has told me what he
wants. 

I cannot reach him. His mind is a blank. His body is unresponsive. If he
were able to reach anyone at all, I'm fairly certain he would not be
undoing his wish. He's that desperate to give his partner what she has
always wanted. 

Scully won't leave his bedside for the following two hours. She is so
close to him that it hurts me to see. She's a beautiful woman with a lot
on her mind. I know what sort of heartache she must have gone through.
She seems very vulnerable and very much alone. The irony of fate,
Mulder, is that your presence alone can make her happy. Not the baby
that is living inside of her, and not the mother resting comfortably in
a room next door. You. If you die now, you'll leave her behind forever
unhappy. And the moment you die, I'll be crawling back inside my carpet
until someone finds me and uses me again. Don't do that to us. 

"I'll find the cure," she whispers constantly into his ear as if he's
suffering from some strange disease that needs to be forced out of him.
"Just open your eyes and give me that smile of yours." 

He doesn't do any of that. In fact, he seems unmoving and already dead,
attached to the machines that keep his body alive. If they unhook them,
he will breathe for a few more hours and then probably die. 
God, I can't stand it. 

And I can't leave.
I just stand there for hours and hours and watch as they try anything to
get him to wake up, do all tests possible, and follow them to the CT
Scan, X-Rays and all the other tests they put him through.

"It's odd," the doctor says. "I can't find anything. It's almost as if
he's asleep." 

He is asleep. The sleep of beauties. Only, his princess will not be able
to wake him up.

Finally she falls asleep and I watch them both. I sit by his bedside on
the other chair while she is crawled up in the larger one. I place a
blanket over her and look at her pale, distraught face. The second our
skin comes into contact with each other, I see what is in store for her
future, or at least parts of it. Her baby is born: a boy that looks like
him. He asks for his daddy. She says, "Daddy's gone." 
And she cries. 

I don't want that to happen. I know about the other future. That one is
angry, bad, horrendous perhaps, but at least there is one together for
them. Keep the faith in the good things of life and seek them out. 

I sit down again and look at him for hours and hours and hours and
hours.  
When I finally look up again, she is watching me intently. 

"He wished for something for me, didn't he?" she asks. 

I simply nod. 

***

I leave the room to fetch her and her mother coffee and when I return, I
find her talking to the still form that does not wake up with the rest
of the world. I freeze while listening to it. 

"They say they don't know what is wrong with you, but your vitals are
weakening. The doctor doesn't know what to do. They're giving you
medication to get your strong and well again but you don't respond to
anything. I don't know what to do, Mulder. I feel like I'm losing you.
You're just lying there and I know I'm stuck in this weird world where
nothing is as it seems. This is not supposed to happen. If you gave your
wish to me, why should you be suffering? I don't get it. I look at that
woman and she stares at me, and she doesn't say a word. She frightens
me." 

Then she finds me glaring at her. I was not even in plain sight but she
still spotted me. And I flush deeply. I want to help them, but I'm
afraid. 

I turn and walk away. She gets up and follows me outside, snatching my
arm. 
"What happened to him?" she asks sharply. "I want the truth."

"I can't give you that," I say. 

"Something happened to my mother first, and then to him. And you are
here, wondering about. He never told me what he wished for, but it had a
consequence, didn't it?" 

I nod. 

"What was the wish?" 

"I can't tell you that."

"Undo it!" 

"I can't. He's the only one who can."

"And he can't speak with you." She understands in a flash the
consequences of this. "He will die," she whispers. "He can't undo it."

"No, he can't." 

"Wherever you came from, whatever you are, there must be more of you out
there! You have to help me find someone who can undo this."

"No one can, but him," I say slowly. "He is the one who inflicted this
upon himself."

"Does he still have wishes left?"

"Yes, and as long as he hasn't spoken them out, or as long as he's
alive, I have to stay here. I belong to him." 

She looks at me estranged and I know that she doesn't care for me one
bit. I'm upset but cannot show it. I'm supposed to stay calm, cool and
out of this world. Yet I want to scream my frustrations out and just go
for it. 

She walks out on me and I'm left alone with my personal demons. I return
to his room and try to urge him silently to fight off whatever holds him
in his grip and prove that the wishes are not cursed. Nothing happens.

Finally I sit down and grasp his hand. His skin feels warm. 
I am comforted by it. 

***

I startle, look up and find myself staring into Mulder's eyes. He
smiles. 
"Just relax," he says. 

I look around, trying to figure out where I am. It's not the hospital
anymore. We're in some sort of dark room and it floats. The walls move.
I feel dizzy. 

"What is this place?" I ask frightened.

"I don't know. I've been here for some time. How did you get here?"

I shrug. "This must be a dream."

"No, it's not." 

"It has to be."

"I think we're in some sort of connection. Our minds are clicked
together. You and I can talk but I'm fairly certain that you are very
much alive whilest I am dying. I'm right about that, aren't I? The part
about dying? It cannot be any differently. It had to happen."

I grab him tight, and his skin again feels as warm as before. It's as if
we are both alive and well, living inside this strange little
environment created by ... by what, exactly? Our minds? It has to be so.
I cannot deny there was always a connection between us. I could feel it
the moment we touched, entertwined and talked. He meant so much to me. I
thought he would change me forever. 

"You're sad," he remarks.

I nod. 

"Don't be." 

"You're dying and I haven't told you the truth."

"What truth?" 

I look up at him. You have two more wishes. Will you listen to my story
and then decide what to do with them? I need to hear what you want."

"Okay." 

"You didn't have to wish your partner pregnant. She already was." 

He startles. "That can't be."

"It's yours." 

"It can't be."

"It is." 

His mood changes. He becomes excited. "So she was okay all along?" 

"Yes, she was."

"But I still want to keep her safe from harm."

"Let the future run its course, Mulder. You don't need to protect her.
She's a big girl. She can take care of her own." 

"I'm afraid of the future."

"Don't be. You will be okay." 

He looks at me. "So what do I do?"

"I want you to undo your wish. It's the only way to wake up. You owe it
to her and yourself. You need each other. Without you, she doesn't have
a future worth fighting for. She needs you."

"She'll forget about me."

"She won't. Do it, please. I beg of you."

"I -" He stops. "Do you promise me we'll be alright?"

"I promise."

"Then I wish for my wish to be undone." 

I hear him say it twice and then I close my eyes and feel myself being
swept off the ground. And suddenly we are back in the hospital room, and
he opens his eyes, struggling against the respirator. The doctor rushes
into the room and Scully follows, noticing our entwined hands.

And then she smiles. 


***

Mulder beckons me inside of his room. He is fine but they want to check
him out and do some more tests to figure out how he could have gotten
out of that coma on his own. They'll never find out the truth of course.


Scully's not there. I know he waited for her to leave. 

"I'm sorry," he says, taking in my features. 

"About what?"

"I know now what I want to do with my last wish. I've made up my mind. I
still have one, right?"

"Yeah, you do." 

"I want you to be free. I wish for you to be free, and not a genie
anymore."

I feel the world shake underneath my feet. I stare at him, and I stand
up and something washes over me. It's like the sensation of a change
that alters your body forever. Whatever powers I had within me, are
gone. 

I walk to the mirror in the bathroom and look inside. My face has
changed too. I cannot believe it! I - it's not true. It can't be. 

As I return to his room, he watches me smilingly. "You're free to go,"
he says. "Now go have that coffee." 

And as if I'm living inside a dream, I leave the hospital and walk
outside in the clear sunlight, and enter the first bar I can find, and
order a cup of coffee. And I sip it, dreaming of my future. 

A future that is now as unclear as his. A future, undetermined, unset
and uncertain.

And I am loving every second of it. 


End