Everyone races into Oliver's hospital room. Which is now, of course, empty. They stare at him. Blah blah blah they came to say goodbye, blah blah blah he's dying, blah blah blah blah blah.
LBO. Doggett watches the film-strip of Young Oliver and the Big Blocks of Magical Mind Mojo. Moronica, Scully, and Dr. Anspaugh trudge into the office. Doggett asks after Oliver's condition. Scully shrugs that they're trying everything. Doggett announces that nothing is going to work, because they're treating the...oh, forget it. This is all so ridiculous. I cannot believe this episode is the second last episode ever, and this is what it's about. Let's just cut to the damn chase: Oliver stopped using his powers when he was a child because he was so happy living with Dr. Anspaugh. The answer is love. The key is love. The cure is love. All you need is love. Love is all you need. "A: Oliver's going to die if he continues using his power," Doggett says. "B: His power fades away when he's happy. C: [Dr. Anspaugh is] the father he never had, and [Oliver] loves [Dr. Anspaugh]. A to B to C," he finishes. Everyone looks thoughtful. Scully kisses her Nobel Prize goodbye.
Cut to the hospital, where Oliver isn't eating his Jell-O because he's so very, very depressed. Enter Dr. Anspaugh. "Oliver," he begins, "you have to understand. My life's work, the vindication of it? It's so important to me. I let it blind me. I treat you like a lab rat and not a man. Thirty years ago, I left with barely a goodbye. I am sorry for that. You can't use your power. Ever again." Oliver makes a hopeful face. "I forbid it," Dr. Anspaugh finishes. "I can't be alone," Oliver whines. "You won't be. You've got me," Dr. Anspaugh tells him. A predictable tear rolls down Oliver's face. "Can you forgive me, Oliver?" Dr. Anspaugh asks. "Anthony," Oliver corrects him. He smiles and nods and digs into his Jell-O. Oh, whatever. If this wasn't the second last episode of this show, ever, I think I'd give up right now. Like, why are we even supposed to care about...no, you know what? Never mind. I'm just going to go to my happy place. Which, I assure you, is in no way connected to any sitcoms, past or present. It is, however, a place where nothing is on fire, and my small plastic toys aren't yelling at each other. Right now, the Mulder action figure is shoving a soot-covered Britney against the wall and screaming at her to give him the Scully back. "She doesn't want to come back," the Britney finally coughs out. "Why do you think I took her away from you? What have you ever given her? You were at the store for over a year, you jackass, leaving her to guard your wack-ass child from all kinds of crazy, murderous interlopers! Maybe she just wants to hang out with me from now on. We're planning to fight crime together, just me and the Scully in matching red pleather catsuits! You want to fight for her? I don't think I'm the one you're going to have to fight!" Yeah, all of that? Not in my happy place. My happy place includes a facial, a mud bath and a tall icy Vanilla Coke. And silence. Sweet, blessed silence.