Summary: A vignette inspired by a painting--Hesiod Listening to the Inspiration of the Muse by Edmond Aman-Jean, and by the *heinous* Episode 15 spoilers I read a few days ago (there is NO Muldertorture in this story, though)

I watch as he slowly wakes up.

He lies flat on the ground on his stomach, his arms stretched out. As he becomes aware of his surroundings, he grabs fistfuls of fragrant grass, sniffs at the ground deeply and smiles to himself. He turns slowly to lie on his back, and then he sees me sitting next to him. Watching him. There is surprise on his face, but no fear.

He sits up and stares openly at me for a long time before he speaks. "So....that's all there is to it? I'm........dead?"

"That's all there is to it."

He looks around at the tall grass blowing in the warm wind, the pale blue sky, and he breathes in deeply again. "Ocean's right over there, I can smell it," he nods his head in a direction in the distance. When he looks back at me, there's a grin on his face. "If I'd known the Vineyard looked just like Heaven, I never would have left."

"This is *your* version of Paradise, Fox. Everyone's is different."

"Oh," he considers that in silence for a long moment.

He peers with piqued curiousity over my shoulders and reddens when I catch him staring and raise an amused eyebrow at him. "I don't know if this is blasphemous of me to ask," he says haltingly, "but......can I touch them?"

"It's not blasphemous," I smile and turn my back to him, unfolding my wings to spread them out fully. I turn my head just enough so I can watch the look of inquisitive wonder light up his face as his hand reaches out to gingerly stroke one wing. It is a familiar expression I have seen hundreds of times over the years, every time he has experienced something new to him. It is a trait that has never wavered, no matter what he has faced---his joy of discovery.

"It's so soft," he breathes, as he traces my wing with long, sensitive fingers. "Like bird feathers, but softer even........they're *beautiful*."

I wait until he has dropped his hand away before I turn back to face him. He is looking at me with an awed, almost shy reverence.

"I've believed in a lot of things in my time, but I never believed your kind existed."

"*She* does, though. She believes in us."

"Yes. She does." I see a slight flicker of hesitation cross his face as he remembers her.

"She's very wise..........for a *human*," I tease, and he laughs.

"I didn't know angels had a sense of humor."

"There's a lot you don't know, Fox."

His face grows serious and he reaches over to touch my arm. "Tell me. Please. I want to know everything---"

"It's not for you to know....not yet."

"Why not?"

I cover his hand with mine. It is the first time I have ever been able to physically touch him---or any human. His skin is warmer than I expected and I find that I like the sensation. "You know the answer to that, Fox."

The new-found serenity on his face disappears. "I'm not going back."

"This isn't your time," I say gently. "It's too soon."

As if all the strength has left his body again, he crumples back down on the grass and buries his head in my lap, hiding his face from me. His voice is muffled when he speaks. "I don't want to go back.....I'm too tired to fight anymore. I want to stay here. Please."

I cradle him and rifle my fingers through his hair soothingly. In all the times I have stood by him, watching with empathy as he endured the worst traumas of his life, this is the first time I have been able to give him a physical gesture of comfort.

"I know the temptation is strong to remain here. To cease your struggle. To end your pain. But there is someone you're still bound to on the other side, someone you haven't let go of yet."

He turns his face to look at me. "I'll let her go. She's better off without me, anyway."

"Do you really believe that, Fox?She's still trying to talk to you; you can hear her if you really listen. Listen to her.......and then decide."

He looks at me almost doubtfully, then stares up at the sky silently. After a few moments, I see tears fill his eyes and he whispers her name to himself. Then he turns to me again.

"I want to go back. How do I get back?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

"Rest here for awhile. When you wake up again, you'll be back."

"Thank you," he answers gratefully.

I stroke his face. "Rest now."

"I'm gonna tell her about you," he says, his voice growing dreamy with sleepiness. "I'm gonna tell her everything...."

"You won't remember any of this when you go back, Fox. It's not meant for you to remember."

"I'll remember....I never forget anything....." His voice trails off and he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

We are back where we came from----he in his hospital bed, me standing by his side as I have been since the day he was born.

Dana is lying across his lifeless body, quietly sobbing into his chest. Her guardian stands beside her, her eyes full of sympathy. We meet each other's gaze across the bed----she and I have stood many silent vigils such as these over the past eight years.

When his chest rises suddenly in a deep breath, Dana lifts her head up in shock. "Mulder?!?"

He opens his eyes, a soft glow shining in them as soon as he sees her; and I know he has already forgotten me.

End.

When I'm feeling weak
And my pain walks down a one way street
I look above
And I know I'll always be blessed with love
And as the feeling grows
She breathes flesh to my bones
And when love is dead
I'm loving angels instead

And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call, she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead

Angels (R.Williams/G. Chambers) Sung by Robbie Williams

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