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For six long months Ive been languishing in the hollow of melancholy waves, rocked in the abysses that separated furious waves of the ocean, trying to avoid drowning myself in the anguishes of my greatest fear. I hang on the memories, the dreams, in the extreme possibilities of a future where we would be reunited again. Also I resist the dizziness of desperation that beckons sometimes, but the solitude weighs heavy, when only dreams seem real. But today, while the winter ends with softness, I emerge from the adversity.

When I find Skinner at the hospital, his solicitude betrays an anxiety as if he refuses to impose this terrible shock on me. But it doesnt matter, because nothing can be more dreaded and frightening than the unknown. Nothing is more essential now than to cross this door, leaving behind me the darkness to allow me to rejoin the light. The imminence of deliverance is intoxicating and scary, swept suddenly by the certainty, by the obviousness of his magnificent presence. I need to feel the life again. Reassured by the flickers against my palm, I slip close to his chest and cling to his body, in order to hear his heartbeat, where the light shines from his spirit. Finally, Ive found my place, home, my peace and I cant contain my tears of joy and relief, when each breath of life that he takes into his body, opens up a groundswell of my own escaping suffering , and relief.
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Agent Doggett just has told me the news. Even if I have a very open spirit, its still difficult to believe. Three months ago, I have joined the universe of the X-files, without doubting what was waiting for me. I had heard all about this section, where two agents, whose adventures fed discussion of the bureau, inspired admiration, but mostly vacillated between slanderous purposes, and conjecture about their relationship. Nevertheless, I knew both were brilliant: one qualified in psychology and a great profiler, the other, a doctor specialized in pathology. A not ordinary team, in margin of the bureau, like the events that prepared to turn everyones understanding about the sense of our earthly existence.

Ive seen Mulder strewn lifeless and cold on the frozen ground, his naked body covered by a thin cover. She discovered him like thatand then, Ive seen the fire of the hope tamped down to a small flicker, dying and giving way to the explosion of raw emotions ripped from the depths of her heart. Despite the tragedy of reality, so iniquitous it was it, she couldnt take it in, she was in denial and ran away to escape the truth, Her body, her mind in turmoil as she flew through the night in sorrow and anguish: to escape the cold, hard reality agent Fox Mulder was dead.

I found her unconscious, shed fainted in this room where wed questioned this man; Jeremiah Smith, according to her. Shes waking up. She seems distraught and exhausted. Her eyes were reddened but an unfathomable glow was there too, while tears began to flood down her face, again strangely devoid of fear. 

I assisted in the burial. There were few people present but she stood there, impressively brave despite that so much her suffering could be seen on her face. She often closed her eyes as if she wanted to make sense of what happened like she tried to block out the world that had brought her this utter sorrow. It was perplexing. As much I admired her strength, as much I pitied her to feel so alone and so torn apart by the haunting torments of her soul, I remember what she said. It was none of those anecdotal tales on what he had been or the heartfelt evocations of regretted memories. No. It was a part of a report that he had writtenStrange

She approached the coffin; her eyes were always closed; her face reflected only a little of her deeply guarded emotions that she kept inside as if to hide and to preserve them exclusively for him. Her voice trembled but remained clear and sweet :
 
I want to believe desperately in the existence of another truth, a hidden truth, invisible for everyone, except for the most sensitive eyes. I want to believe in the endless procession of souls, in what cant and doesnt have to be destroyed. I want to believe that we ignore the sadness of God and its eternal reward, that its truth is invisible for us, that what is born cant be buried in frozen depths of the earth, but waits to recover on the order of God, in the clarity of stars where we rest in peace.

She slipped a hand in her pocket and something emerge from it. On the coffin, she had displayed sunflowersseeds, a food of immortality, a deeply personal present offered like a promise that the soul will turn continually in its thoughts towards the loved one. Then she continued to speak as if it was addressed only and directly to him :

I hang on for you. Mulder. I know you always hold your promises and you know I trust you. You are the only one. You will live as long as I will live because the memory resides in my heart and my mind forever. Nothing is over, Mulder.

She took a seed from the coffin, where she bent reverently, slowly tenderly placing a kiss against the cold veneer of the coffin.   A single tear escaped down her face as if to bless it before she shared three last imperceptible ,almost silent words, that I guessed. This instant was so intimate, pure and intense that I finally knew and felt the strength that had united them. The strangest was that I had the impression he wasnt truly dead, that she kept the hope of a possible return. How absurd to imagine it , especially to envisage it?

Yet today Im here in this hospital corridor where Ive just seen Doggett disappear in a hurry. I approach the bedroom, the door still open. What I see inside makes me hesitate to enter but garners my curiosity.  Agent Mulder is awake and truly alive. His head is turned towards  reddish hair, in which he slips his hand. I thought she was asleep but his gesture made a smile appear on her beautiful face, then she lifted her head from his  shoulder. They couldnt see me and in any event I could have been in the middle of the room and I dont believe it would have made a shred of difference. They were oblivious to anyone but each other. His hand has forsaken her hair to palm her cheek, wiping her tears delicately with his thumb. This moment is so powerful and intense that it revealed the pure and sublime feelings of their love:

Dont cry.

You too.

Her fingers mirror his gestures on his cheeks. Their free hands are entwined with each others fingers, strengthening the unfailing psychological and spiritual intimacy that plays out in front of me.  Suddenly, in the silence, the lightning realisation comes.

You see Ive kept my promise.

Ive trusted you and I wanted so much to believeMulderIt has been so hardwithout you, I was completely lostI

Shhhh I know, but you have hung on. Scully, nothing is ever over.
Everything begins.

Their voices are barely more than whispers, while their faces closed the distance to touch their lips together and to link their inseparable souls, triumphing from death, escaping all vicissitude of this time and leaving behind the sorrows of that lonely time as they deepened their kiss.. I chose this moment to leave. What I have witnessed since the beginning finally makes sense.

The end

Note : Shânti means inner peace.