Disclaimer: Not my characters.
A/N: POV alternates between John and Monica.

---

You will never be the man you were before. The last bit of hope your heart held disappears like ash floating in the wind.

You will never admit what you saw. Though it was only for the briefest of seconds, your son's charred body will haunt your dreams forever.

You will never again hear his laughter, see his smile, feel his arms around your neck.

It's scary how quickly it happened: one minute you're a father. The next, you're not.

Monica's hand on your shoulder and softly murmured apology remind you this isn't a dream. You hate her for it.

---

You wish you could make it better for him. You're surprised at how your heart breaks just to look at him. You've only known him for three days yet it feels like a lifetime.

He knocks on your door at two in the morning and stumbles into your open arms. You don't ask why he's not at home. You know it will never feel like home for him again.

He cries himself to sleep on your lap, your fingers running through his hair. This is somehow more intimate than you've ever been with any man and you feel yourself falling.

---

You're too caught up in your own pain to see your wife's hurt. Every time you look at her, you see your son and the stone in your heart grows larger.

Luke was the best of both of you. Now that he's gone, the worst is left: anger, guilt, blame.

(Why couldn't you save him, John?)

More pain. More hurt.

(Why won't you talk to me?)

The long, bitter silence.

(I'm going to stay with my parents for a while.)

Before you know it, you've lost her too.

You do the only thing left for you to do: call Monica.

---

You love New Orleans. There's an old-world, magical, mysterious feel. It takes a while to adjust to the heat and the pace. Life is different here.

You realize that you don't miss Brad. That relationship was doomed from the start: the sex was great but the spiritual connection you crave so badly was missing.

It's funny, you think. You never slept with John but the connection was there. Too bad he belongs to someone else. The story of your life.

Still, it's uncanny how you can sense his pain across the distance separating you. You're not surprised when he calls.

---

A vacation. You can't remember the last time you took one.

(Liar. You do remember. It was a camping trip, just you and Luke.)

Okay, so you don't want to remember.

New Orleans isn't what you expect. Monica hasn't changed though. She greets you with a smile.

You never realized just how beautiful she is.

(This is a mistake!)

You thought seeing her would bring back bad memories of Luke. You were wrong. All you remember is how she was there for you.

It feels good to hug her. Natural. As if she belongs in your arms.

You feel alive.

---

He stays a week. There's still no sex but you can see he's beginning to heal. You're happy.

You take him to a bar and the two of you get drunk. He holds your hand and thanks you for listening to him.

When he tells you about the body turning to ash, you say nothing, knowing he'll never really be ready to know the truth. Already, there are secrets between you.

You tell him you're trying to quit smoking. He laughs and says he's trying to start.

You know you'll never love anyone quite the same way you love him.

---

Time passes. Life goes on. Each day is a little easier than the last. Days, weeks, years. The first Father's Day without him is hard. But you survive.

You get divorced. Join the FBI. Leave New York and its painful memories behind. D.C. is a new start, a fresh beginning.

(Daddy, don't forget me.)

(No, never.)

You keep in touch with Monica. Emails. Phone calls. Christmas and birthday cards. Promises to visit, but there's never time.

Promotions, new assignments. The X-Files. Mulder. Scully. Things you can't bring yourself to believe.

The next thing you know, Monica's back in your life.

---

You've always believed Fate has a way of bringing people back together. You won't admit it, but you're nervous at seeing John again. Hiding your feelings behind a cigarette and a smile, you silently thank Fox Mulder. Wherever he is.

The connection is still there and it hurts you to see the crush he has on Dana. You shouldn't be surprised – you're a reminder of the most painful event in his life.

Dana doesn't like you. She doesn't care much for John either. You want to slap her. Does she really think she's the only person who's ever lost someone?

---

You're an idiot, you think. You let her go back to New Orleans.

Seeing her again made you remember how good it felt to hold her in your arms, how you wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to make love to her.

You let her go back, and you're still wondering.

You realize that the reason you like her so much is because she makes you feel alive.

Or maybe she makes you feel alive because you like her so much.

You're afraid to name this feeling. If you don't name it then you can't get hurt.

---

You're an idiot, you think. What possessed you to walk right out of his life again?

The voice in the back of your mind tells you he's not ready. He's still living with Luke's ghost. He needs closure before he can move on.

A few months later, Fate intervenes again. Another body in ashes.

Maybe you're still living with Luke's ghost as well.

He's still not ready to hear. Mulder, back from the dead, tells you to leave him alone. He doesn't want to believe.

So, again, you return to New Orleans. To an empty bed, to an empty life.

---

You don't seriously believe that aliens are really after Agent Scully's baby. She and Mulder give new meaning to the word 'paranoid'. There are no such things as little green men, super soldiers, or government conspiracies.

Right?

Yet here you are, lying to Knowle Rohrer about what you know and listening to Mulder's suspicions. And, once again, you've got Monica involved. When you asked for her help, she didn't ask why or want anything in return. She never does.

Still, you think it's about time you do something for her.

Assuming the lot of you make it through this alive.

---

A baby boy.

You study John carefully, somehow knowing exactly what it is he's trying to hide from you. He's thinking of Luke, remembering when he was that small.

You want to make John stop hurting.

You slip your hand in his and twine your fingers together. He smiles, pulls you against him, and wraps his free arm around you in a hug.

The kiss isn't particularly heated or passionate. Neither is it awkward or clumsy. It just is.

You try to deny the hurt you feel when you see the guilt in his eyes. He still hasn't let go.

---

Partners.

You like to think that some part of you knew you'd end up working together. It feels right, as if things are finally the way they were meant to be.

Maybe that's true.

Still, despite what the gossip says, you and Monica are just friends. You don't want to complicate your relationship by making it sexual. You think she understands. (You tell yourself she thinks the same thing.)

And yet, another part of you knows it won't always be this way. Eventually you'll both want more.

For the first time in years, you have something to look forward to.

---

It's the end of the world . . .

You probably should care that time is running out, but right now it's difficult to think about much outside this moment.

You. john. In bed. Together.

After the events of the last few days, it's become clear that life is a gift and every moment should be savored. You've known this for a long time, but John has finally let go of the past.

It only took impending doom, you think with a smile.

And then he pulls you to him again, and you stop thinking altogether.

You have each other, and that's enough.

finis