Sam's body rested on a hospital bed. Surrounding him were his friends
from this mission, each looking saddened in their own way. There was nothing
they could do; there was nothing that could be done. Al stood by his friend's
side, and he was determined to stay there until the bitter end. He looked
at his control mouse, and there was a one hundred percent chance of Sam
dying. He knew that without even looking; his instincts had told him.
* * * * * * * * *
Mulder and Scully walked away to talk to the nurse about forms or to
answer questions or something, but he barely paid any attention. Then he
felt a slight brushing against his left hand. Looking down, he saw Sam's
face stare up at him.
"Al?" he asked in a whispered and tired voice. "What happens?"
Scully heard the flat line. After getting the report from the Phoenix
man, she moved to the foot of Sam's bed and just stared at him. He was
exactly like his photo in his background report, and he was exceptionally
handsome, even in death.
She turned away from the body that now peacefully rested on the bed
before her and instead turned her attention to the flat line. Slowly walking
toward it, she turned the machine off; there was no longer a need for it
to make its dreadful and sorrowful announcement. It had done its job, and
it was now time to shut it up. But its sound continued in her head, refusing
to be stifled, and for the first time, in a long time, Scully did something
she hadn't done in a long time. She wept. The tears flowed down her hot
cheeks freely, and then she felt the hands of her partner on her shoulders
and his chest on her back. Turning to him, Scully wrapped her arms around
Mulder's body and buried her face in his chest. He rested his head on hers,
and they remained that way for many hours.
"It's time to go," Robert said to Al.
Al slowly looked in his direction, forgetting that his former POW mate
was next to him. "Bring him back," he said. It wasn't a demand; it was
a plea.
But Robert Shook his head. "It's not my mission." He passed his hand
over Al, and when Al looked down, he saw that he was back in his eighty-six
year old body. "Go home, Al," he heard Robert say. "I'll take care of everything
here."
He didn't want to. He didn't want to leave Sam behind. But there was
nothing he could do. Tapping on his hand link, he opened the door to the
imaging chamber and stepped back into the year 2020. The lights of the
hallway were brighter than those in the hospital, but his eyes quickly
adjusted as he walked through and entered the main area. There, his wife
and Tina waited for him.
Beth said nothing. When her husband approached, she just opened her
arms to him, and the held each other tightly. Al saw Tina standing nearby,
and with his left hand he waved her over. Together, they stood before each
other in a group hug, and remained in that position for hours.
Sam opened his eyes and saw a bright light. It went away quickly, giving
way to all the people he had known and loved. He saw Donna, his beautiful
wife, smiling at him, beckoning him to her with her smile. And he saw his
parents standing to either side of her and his sister, Katie, beside his
mother. He didn't know what to say, what to do. But then another person
appeared beside him and told him what he always wanted to hear.
"Go to them," Robert said. "The time has come for you to rest, Samuel
Beckett; you've earned it."
There was nothing he would rather do. He ran to them. He picked Donna
up in his arms and twirled her about. And then he grabbed his family and
hugged them together. He was home, he realized with happiness. He was right
where he belonged, in the arms of his loved ones, and he hoped to God that
he would never have to leave. God heard his hope, and granted it.
