This is a story I started a year ago as an answer to a writing challenge that sent our favorite agents abroad. In the midst of writing, a lunatic drove a truck into the Christmas market at Berlin, Germany, and killed 12 people. I didn’t feel like finishing my fluffy story back then (you will find out why) and awakened the draft only recently from its long sleep.
Tagging @today-in-fic
Her phone was buzzing in her pocket. She pulled the knitted glove off her right hand with her teeth and tapped the green button to answer the call.
“Scully, it’s me,” she heard a familiar voice say, “watcha doin’?”
She wasn’t surprised at all to get a call from him out of office hours on a Saturday afternoon. Since they were back working together for the FBI, they had grown closer again. And she was grateful for it. She had been the one leaving, but that didn’t mean it had been any easier for her to live a life without the perfect other than for him. It had been like missing a limb and she wouldn’t have survived her mother’s sudden and unexpected passing without him. Mulder had been a great comfort and Scully felt her love for him winning back the upper hand over the disappointment and frustration she had to deal with during the last months of their cohabitation in their Virginia country house.
“I’m trying to find a Christmas tree that isn’t crooked, fits nicely into the corner of my living room and doesn’t cost a fortune!” She shook her head at a man holding out a thin douglas fir tree which seemed to have been chopped weeks ago who mumbled under his breath something like ‘goes tree shopping three days before Christmas and wants to make a bargain.’
“Let me stop you there, Scully. Pack your bags, we’re gonna spend Christmas at Bill’s!”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Not only wouldn’t she call Mulder and her older brother close and thus eager to spend the holidays with each other, what had to be even more astounding was the fact that Bill had been stationed at the Army’s European headquarters in Germany for more than a year now. That was the reason he hadn’t been able to come to Washington in time to say goodbye to their mother and Maggie Scully had died with only her daughter and son-in-law at her bedside.
“You heard me right. We’re ordered in by the American Forces in Germany to investigate a case of a poltergeist terrorizing a dentist.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“No, far from that! They were incidents as such in the South of Germany already at the beginning of the 1980s. A voice spoke through the faucets in a dental practice. It was top of the news for weeks until it suddenly stopped.” What he didn’t tell her was that later on the dentist had been convicted as a phony who liked seeing his face in the newspapers and simply wanted to promote his practice nationwide.
“Are you saying we’re shipped to another continent on the public’s dime because a few anxious patients in a dental practice heard voices and freaked-out?”
“We’re not talking about some people who are afraid to go to the dentist here, Scully. Scientists from the respected Fraunhofer Institute of Physics have examined every corner of the room and found no explanation whatsoever for the phenomenon, so they want us to get to the bottom of things. I got us tickets for a night flight to Frankfurt. You can sleep on the plane. I’ll meet you at the airport at the Lufthansa check-in in two hours.”
“Wait, Mul-” she started but he had already hung up.
Reblogging this story from 2018 for the sake of the season. I wished we could enjoy going to the Christmas market as we used to but due to the pandemic it just isn't that much fun.
Here is the final part of the story. You can’t have an xf fanfic without a nice little msr moment right???
tagging @today-in-fic
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
Mulder's face lights up just like the screen of his phone when he sees the faces of two of his most favorite people, one sleeping, the other one awake. "Hey, Scully, how is everybody doing?"
"We are doing just fine, Mulder. Your daughter is fed and changed and very sleepy."
"Has she been like this the whole time?"
"Not exactly. She went into a crying fit when I was in the bathroom for like two minutes to freshen up a little, but as soon as I latched her on she was content and fell asleep when she was done. Didn't even wake up when I changed her."
"You should get some sleep, too, instead of talking to me."
"I will, but we have to talk about Will first. Did you notice how upset he had been?"
"I have to say no, I'm afraid. I mean, I noticed that he didn't exactly go overboard when we told them about the pregnancy, but which teenage boy would? I guess I was a little too self-absorbed to try and get to the bottom of it, and I blame myself for it."
"Me too," Scully says. "I thought he was just a little overwhelmed about the prospect of soon having a crying baby in the house, I never would have thought he was afraid I cared more about the baby than about him."
"I know. He said something like it in the car on the way over, but I didn't have the nerves to get into it then. You being in labor kind of occupied my mind, but we had a good conversation after dinner and sorted everything out. I told him some of the circumstances of his birth, not everything, of course, but how I wasn't there."
"So did I. Also not everything, only that I believed I couldn't have children until I had him. One day, we have to tell him the full story as we did with Em."
"How old was she again when we did that?"
"Sixteen I think."
"We have two more years then."
"Two more years to come up with a plan."
As there is a moment of silence between them, Scully closes her eyes and it looks like she is falling asleep. Mulder doesn't say anything, he just watches her. Over the years, he has watched sleeping Scully many times and always enjoyed it, beginning with the stakeouts back in the day. She simply is beautiful when she sleeps. She is beautiful when she is awake, too, but when she sleeps, there is a peacefulness emanating from her Mulder has always particularly liked. Just as he wants to end the call and let her get her much-needed sleep, her phone beeps indicating an incoming message and her eyes open. "What?" she mutters a bit disoriented.
"Welcome back, sleepyhead," Mulder says. "All is good. Your phone just beeped and woke you."
"I wasn't sleeping," Scully insists, stubbornly claiming as per usual that she doesn't fall asleep unintentionally.
"Yes, you were. But it's okay, you gave birth a couple hours ago, allow yourself to be tired. Now shut down your phone and get some sleep, as long as Gracie lets you," Mulder tells her in a somewhat bossy tone, well aware that Scully is not very receptive to a bossy tone from him.
"Let me just check who the message is from...oh, it's from Will." Surprise is spreading over Scully's face. Her son almost never texts her, only if she texts him first indicating she expects a reply.
"What does it say?" Mulder asks, observing how Scully's eyes get watery and how her chin quivers. "Scully?"
"He says he's sorry, and that he loves me. That he is happy about his new baby sister, and that he is looking forward to us coming home. He even put a heart emoji at the end."
Mulder chuckles. "Wait, what happened to our son? Is he possessed by something that forces him to be much more emotional than he would ever admit he was?"
"An X-File?"
"Probably. Want me to look into it?"
"Don't you dare look into anything without me, Mulder!"
"Never without you, partner!"
Scully closes her eyes and smiles. "God, I am so grateful, Mulder. Grateful for how our lives have turned out after we left the Bureau. We saw and experienced gruesome things, but they led us to Emily, and getting custody of her led us to where we are right now. And where we are right now, where we have been in the past years, is simply wonderful. Don't you agree? "
"Of course, I do. To this very day, I include Section Chief Blevins in my prayers thanking him for sending you to the basement to spy on me."
"You don't pray, Mulder."
"For this particular cause, I make an exception."
Scully hums with a slight smile on her face. Her eyes are falling shut again, then her head lolls forward and she yanks it back up with a start. "I'm awake!" she declares in dead earnest which makes Mulder laugh whole-heartedly.
"No, you are not! You're talking in your sleep, Scully. I want you to put away your phone now and get some shuteye. If you're lucky, Gracie will let you sleep a couple hours until the next feeding. You really need some rest after what you've done today. The kids and I will come by tomorrow after school. I'll bring you a proper bouquet in colors of my choosing and the duffle bag you packed for the hospital. I still can't believe I forgot that one earlier."
"Well, didn't surprise me. I was glad you didn't forget Will at home." Scully can't keep a smirk from spreading across her face.
"Very funny. Before you can humor me any further, I'm gonna end the call now. Sleep well, see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Mulder," Scully mumbles hardly audible, finally succumbing to sleep. Her face is vanishing from the screen as the hand holding the phone is slowly falling onto her chest. Mulder only sees the blurry fabric of the blanket, her phone obviously lying face down now as he hears a distant 'love ya'. Thanks for the sensitive microphones they are building in these devices nowadays, Mulder thinks. "I love you, too, Scully," he whispers, well aware she has already passed the threshold to sleep. "Best partner in the world, mother of my children, and love of my life." With this, he kisses the screen of his phone, then shuts the device off.
I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while. After one and a half years of sitting at home I finally spent a one-week vacation abroad with my family, hence the delay. I hope you enjoy the continuation, and there is one more chapter to come after this.
tagging @today-in-fic
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
Later at the unremarkable house
After they had dropped Emily off at the dorm, Mulder and William called their favorite Italian restaurant and ordered two large pizzas to pick up on their way home - no Thai takeout tonight. Now that the cartons are empty and their stomachs full, Mulder's thoughts go back to his son's state of mind not only today but for the past weeks and even months. He knows Scully talked to him at the hospital and William seemed much less troubled when they left, but he wants to get to the bottom of it and the moment seems to be a good one. Once they relaxed to the living room, he started the conversation with a first tentative step.
"Mom and you had a good chat while Em and I were gone with Gracie, didn't you?"
William knows there is no getting out of this, given how perceptive his dad is. He hopes to keep it short, though. He isn't really keen on pouring his heart out once again, this time to his father.
"Yeah, we talked. We're good."
"I figured that, but I would like to tell you my part in all this. This new-baby-thing. Would that be okay?"
"Your part in what exactly?"
Mulder has to laugh when he sees William tensing up. "Not in the making part, relax. Rather why this baby is a godsend for mom and me, although it hit us totally unprepared."
William relaxes and resigns himself to the story, albeit a bit unsure of what to expect. Mulder makes himself comfortable in the leather reading chair next to the couch where William has placed himself, his already long legs sprawled across the entire seat. He starts with what is Scully's most valuable character trait, at least in his eyes.
"Your mother is the most selfless person I know. She gives far more than she takes. The people she loves can consider themselves lucky to be at the receiving end of her attention and care. She's always been like this, since I've known her. A few months into our partnership at the FBI, she told me she'd put herself on the line for me, and she did. She had my back more often than I could count. She risked her career, her health, sometimes even her life."
"Dad, I already know I was wrong when I said she cared more for the new baby than for us. It was a stupid thing to say, I know I have the best mom."
"I'm glad to hear that, Will, but that's not my point. I want you to understand the role I've been playing in all of this because I am also one of the lucky people she deems worthy of her love and care."
Mulder takes a swig out of the beer bottle he's been holding in his hand. He is thinking about how he wanted to start this conversation on the entire car ride back home. William was in the backseat with his earphones, staring out the window. He had enough time to ruminate, to sort out his own feelings, and to come up with a plan on how to do this properly, and still, his heart is beating a little faster than usual.
"I remember the first time the notion entered my head that one day Scully would be a mother. It was during a tough case. We sat on a bench and discussed a mother's wishes for the baby she is carrying and I was like 'oh, right, Scully is also going to be a mother'. It surprised me how surprised I was. She was a woman, of course, she would be a mother one day, but until then, I had just seen her as an agent, as my partner." Mulder takes another swig of beer. The cool liquid running down his throat reduces the tension a little. He continues. "Did she tell you that she was once told she couldn't have children?"
"Yes."
"Did she also tell you it was because of our work?"
"No," William answers, creasing his forehead. "How?"
"That's a long and very complicated story I would like to keep for another day if you don't mind because it's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"The point is that your mother lost the ability to have children because she worked with me."
"But it wasn't your fault, like you didn't do anything to her."
"It was my fault in the sense that she was so loyal to our work, to me as her partner, that she ended bereft of the chance for motherhood. It was a burden I carried around for a long time. So when Scully had the chance to get custody of Emily, I felt it was my duty to do everything I could to help. Even if I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do."
"Why wouldn't it be the right thing to do? Mom wanted to have a child, Em didn't have a mother, so it was best for both of them for mom to take her into her care. Was it not?"
Mulder sighs heavily. When William says it like that, it really does sound like a win-win situation, but it wasn't. Back then, he entertained more the inevitable downside. "Emily was very ill, with a disease nobody knew how to treat. She had been part of an experimental drug study, and when that failed to make her better, there weren't other options, you know." Mulder speaks slowly, weighing his words carefully. William doesn't need to hear every detail of the experimental program Emily was a part of, nor the bizarre circumstances of her biological connection to Scully.
"You mean she was dying?" William asks, his eyes saucer-wide.
"Yes, she was. And I asked myself what good it would do for Scully to get custody of a child she was going to lose shortly thereafter. I feared she was taking on too much but when she said she needed my support, who was I to tell her no? See, she wasn't thinking the way I was. She knew nobody else would care for Em. If she didn't do it, the girl would have to deal with her illness alone. So when your mom asked me for help, I helped her."
"You married her."
"Let's say after a good deal of contemplation Scully agreed to marry me for the higher cause," Mulder says with a pensive expression on his face.
William is accustomed to this narrative. Both kids know that when their parents first got married it was on paper only, but even without understanding completely the very special nature of their relationship at the time, Emily and William have grown up in the strong belief that it would have happened anyway, that their parents were meant to be together.
"Em didn't die," William states the obvious, "so mom was right in pursuing the adoption."
"I believe that a lot of Em's recovery can be attributed to Scully's unconditional love, and nobody can tell me otherwise. Scully saved her not only with her brilliant doctor's brain that eventually came up with a totally different approach of treating her but with her steadfast will to love this little girl everybody else seemed to have given up on. She knew it would devastate her once she would have to let her go, but she was simply not willing to leave a sick, scared three-year-old girl alone to spare herself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"Yes," the boy says, somewhat contrite. "Mom put Em's interests in front of her own."
"Exactly. Like she did whenever she covered for me in front of our superiors at the FBI."
"What about me? Has she ever put her interests behind mine, too?"
Mulder smiles knowingly. "Patience, kiddo, I'm not finished yet."
"There is a story about me, too?"
"Of course, there is."
William brings a soda can to his lips and gulps down half of it. His father has definitely piqued his interest and his heart starts beating a little faster in anticipation. "Aren't you going to tell me?" he asks as Mulder gets up from his chair and heads toward the kitchen.
"Let me get another beer," he answers. "One more soda for you?"
William knows there aren't any more in the fridge. His father would have to get it from the spare fridge in the garage which would delay the beginning of the story for at least another five minutes so he shakes his head. When Mulder returns, he places the beer bottle on the coffee table but doesn't sit down. Instead, he turns around and moves away from the couch.
"Hey, where are you going, dad?"
"Bathroom, sorry. I need to get rid of the beer. I'll just be a minute."
The boy moans. For the entire time it takes his father to empty his bladder, his right leg is bobbing up and down like a steel spring. He bites his thumbnail, something he does only when he is extremely nervous. His curiosity is bordering on suspense now.
During his short timeout, Mulder thinks back to the evening they broke the news to the kids. His involuntary absence when Scully told a young Emily (and everybody else) that she was pregnant with William had robbed him of that moment then and he remembers the joy of sharing the wonderful news this time around. He was elated by his daughter's cheerful reaction and didn't attach much significance to his son's lack thereof. Mulder told himself to be patient with William, to give him the time he needed to adapt like he himself had needed time to adapt to Scully's pregnancy with William after his return. What he blames himself for is that he had lost sight of his son's struggle these past months, that he is only picking up the thread just now.
When Mulder is back sitting in his reading chair, he is prompted by the intense Scully-stare William inherited from his mother. 'Come on, Mulder,' he cheers himself on, 'you can do this. Just remember you are talking to your 14-year-old son and not testifying in a conspiracy hearing.' "Alright," he licks his lips, "are you ready for your story, Will?"
"More than ready!"
"Okay, here it comes." One last deep intake of breath, then Mulder starts. "Your mom was alone when she learned that she was pregnant with you and for the first months of her pregnancy. The miracle I had told her to hope for had finally happened, and I wasn't there to share it with her."
William is familiar with the word 'miracle' surrounding his existence, but his father is implying there also is a less happier note, and he can't wait to hear more. The way Mulder is fiddling with the edges of the label of the beer bottle in his hand tells him the details are complicated and anything but easy to explain. As much as he wants to push, he tries to keep his curiosity in check and trusts that he will be given the full story eventually. He forces his right leg to remain still and observes how his dad places the bottle on the table now that the label has been torn off completely.
"For many years, mom and I had been on and off an investigation into a group of reckless yet very powerful men. Around that time, this group had drawn our attention to them again. We knew something was going on and wanted to get to the bottom of it to be able to work against them, but Scully wasn't feeling well, so we agreed she would stay home and I would do the fieldwork. She didn't want to, of course, but I didn't accept no for an answer."
"That was very considerate of you, dad," William supplies.
"I was worried about her. It wasn't an easy discussion - you know your mother..." Mulder earns himself his son's knowing look, "but finally, she let me go without her. It felt like missing a limb to not have her have my back, but I was convinced I was doing the right thing. It didn't go as planned though and I didn't return. I was abducted and held impaired for some time without a chance to contact mom."
William stares at his father open-mouthed. He knows that his parents' former jobs as Special Agents of the FBI had been dangerous, but so far he has never really entertained the idea that they might have really lost their lives on duty. "But you managed to get out somehow," he says as if reassuring himself the story had a happy end.
"Well, I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't," Mulder says with a lopsided smile, "but imagine how difficult that time must have been for her. She tried to track me down, of course. Even in her condition, she wouldn't leave it to the FBI to rescue me and she moved heaven and earth to find me, but it took more than half a year. When I woke up in a hospital bed, her watery eyes were the first thing I saw, and from the expression on her face it was obvious she had been through hell."
Of course, Mulder leaves out the information that he had been returned dead, was buried, exhumed, and brought back to life rather by accident. Still, William swallows hard, then mumbles a silent, "wow."
"For a few days, I'd been going in and out of consciousness, and I always only saw her sitting at my bedside. When I noticed her protruding belly for the first time, I didn't believe my eyes, I thought I was hallucinating. But then, the following day, and the next, she looked just the same. I didn't know what to make of it. The last time I had seen her, before I went on that case, she was a woman who couldn't have children, and now she was heavily pregnant." Mulder's face speaks of the confusion he was feeling at the time.
"Weren't you happy?" William asks.
"I was happy for her, very happy, but I couldn't fathom what it meant for me. I had no recollection of what happened to me for the many months I had gone missing, but I was shown quite plainly that I had missed a lot. It was like the world had been turning while I had been standing still, and Scully had gone to a place I couldn't follow."
"How did mom react when she realized you had issues? She must have looked so forward to telling you."
Mulder is once again amazed by how sensitive William is. He is only a teenager, knows nothing about the demands of an adult life, and still, he is able to empathize with his mother in this situation.
"It hurt her immensely, but she was very patient with me. She was in full doctor mode and focused mainly on my recovery."
"Mom nursed you back to health." There is no question about this. His mother is the whole family's physician and has spent many hours taking care of sick family members. "Did you come around eventually? With having a baby? I mean, with uh…with having me?"
As William isn't hiding his apprehension, Mulder offers him a warm smile trying to appease it.
"I did, but it took me a while. The first time I understood I was involved in this miracle was when Scully needed to be checked into a hospital. She had broken down with abdominal pain and when I saw the fear in her eyes in the ambulance on our way to the hospital, I realized how much there was to lose. She begged the doctors to save you, said she'd refuse any meds that might put her baby at risk. Fortunately, things turned out to be less severe than previously thought and she could leave the hospital again after staying a few days for observation."
"She didn't want any meds to make her feel better?"
Mulder shakes his head. "Nope, only what would be necessary to save you."
William hums, contemplating what he just heard. "And from then on, everything was fine?"
"Not really." It still gnaws at Mulder that there were only tiny bits and moments Scully could enjoy her long-desired pregnancy.
"What happened?"
"The people we had been pursuing, who were responsible for harming both of us, were still out there. We were afraid they might come after you once you were born, so I wanted Scully to give birth at a place where the two of you would be safe. And that was most certainly not in DC in a hospital."
William gasps. "I wasn't born in a hospital? Everyone is born in a hospital!"
"Not you. You were born in a rural, godforsaken town in a county hours away from DC. A secret place even I didn't know the coordinates of."
"You didn't know where mom gave birth to me?"
"No."
"Which means you weren't there when I was born." William stares at his father with a mixture of bewilderment and also disappointment.
"I stayed away because I thought my presence would draw too much attention to the situation. I thought the farther away I was from Scully, the safer she would be. It was one of the biggest miscalculations of my life. I left her alone with a fellow agent, a very good agent who did her utmost to help and protect her, protect the both of you, but it doesn't change the fact that I left her alone in a totally inappropriate environment more vulnerable than ever. When I realized my mistake I jumped into a chopper and searched for the place. I was terrified that I would be too late, that when I got there something terrible would already have happened."
"Wow, dad. You took a chopper to find us? Cool! I never knew my birth was like an action movie. Did you make it in time?"
It shouldn't amaze Mulder how quickly his son's state of mind is able to change from disappointment in him about not being at his birth to excitement about his ride in a chopper. He is a 14-year old boy, still missing the life experience to be able to evaluate what really determines a man's actions toward the woman he loves.
"Not quite. Mom was already holding you in her arms, but I had come in time to get you where the two of you belonged: in a hospital."
Mulder's heart convulses every time he thinks back to the sight he was offered when Monica led him to the place Scully had given birth. "You were born in a ramshackle house on a rusty bed and water coming from a pump. I didn't know what had happened when I got there. All I had eyes for was Scully's pale, sweaty face and the wet tendrils of hair sticking to her temples. She was crying and clutching a bundle of towels to her chest. I thought I was too late, I thought you didn't make it and ran to her. It was then that I noticed the small movements coming from the bundle. I was so shocked that it took me a couple of moments to react. She told me you were a boy, but her breath was so weak that the news barely registered with me. I scooped her and you up and made it back to the chopper in record time." He didn't care what gender the baby was at that moment, all he cared about was Scully's condition. As he saw the blood-soaked sheets when he lifted her up, he feared the worst. "I yelled at the pilot to get us to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible."
William sees that to this day there is still terror in his father's eyes, but doesn't try to comfort him as he sees how entrenched he is in this memory.
"Your mother, being the warrior that she is, assessed her own condition. She said, and to this day I hear this word for word, 'If I don't make it, promise me you'll take care of him and tell him I loved him.'" Mulder hasn't noticed, but his arms have moved into a position as if he was holding Scully and baby William right now.
William decides to gently nudge his father along. "What did you say?"
"The thing that would definitely keep her around, that she didn't want her kids being brought up by someone as inept as a parent as me. She didn't buy it, but there was the tiniest bit of smile in her voice when she said that I was a great father and that she had known it from the beginning. 'Why did you think I agreed to marry you and help me raise Emily?' she said. 'I am certain they will both turn out great under your care,' were her last words before she lost consciousness."
William gasped.
"Once we got to the hospital they took you and mom away from me. It was two hours before I heard any news. The doctor said she would be ok, but if she had been brought in half an hour later, she might not have pulled through."
"Has mom ever blamed you for leaving her alone?"
"I was lucky she was too busy being happy to waste any time on blaming me."
"But you never stopped blaming yourself, did you, dad?"
Mulder smiles. "It seems you know me well, pal."
"Yeah, well, you should see your face since you've been telling this story," William says mimicking his father's facial expression which is distorted with pain.
His son is right. Mulder has never forgiven himself. He has never been able to really enjoy William's birthday parties because they reminded him of how badly he failed Scully and him on the day of his birth.
"But there's got to be a time you left all of this behind at some point. I mean, we became a happy family, didn't we?"
"Scully told me she'd name you William after my father. That was the turning point for me. I was proud as hell."
Father and son sit in silence for a moment. Mulder puts the beer bottle to his lips and drowns the by now warm and flat liquid. He looks at William, whose mind seems to be absent, his eyes staring at the ceiling as his head is comfortably placed on the backrest. He wonders what he is contemplating because that he is contemplating something is more than obvious. William looks just like his mother when he does this. It will spill out of him once his musings have come to a conclusion like it spills out of Scully eventually every time. Mulder's patience pays off a few minutes later.
"I'm beginning to see what the new baby means to you and mom," William says. "Mom said Grace was the cherry on the cake, that she made something perfect that was already pretty good, but she is much more than that."
"What do you mean?"
"She was your final chance. With her, you could do everything right. This time, the two of you were together through the whole pregnancy, mom was in a hospital to give birth, and you were there when the baby was born. The whole thing went the way it should. Is that it?"
Mulder clicks his tongue. Maybe William will become a therapist one day. He surely has the ability to listen to people, assess their behavior, understand their motives, name their issues, and draw the right conclusions. "You're hitting the nail right on the head here, Will."
William slaps a hand across his forehead. "It's all so obvious now. I mean, it was easy to see how happy you were, you and mom. God, your happiness was bordering on cheesiness at times. Em and I were rolling our eyes more than once behind your backs, I can tell you that much. You behaved like lovey-dovey first-time parents, and I guess that was what was so annoying. I asked myself why you were so crazy about this new baby when you already had Em and me, but it all makes sense now. You had two children, but you hadn't gone through a joyful pregnancy together with either of them. You had a chance to make up for what you had missed. Of course, you went all in."
"I wish we had this conversation earlier. It would've spared us a lot in this family. See, Scully and I hadn't planned for a third child, we had indeed been perfectly happy with the two of you. At the beginning, we didn't even realize the chance we were given. We were thinking more about how old we would be on this kid's graduation and about possible health risks mom might face. The last thing I wanted was for her to go through another health crisis. The cheesiness, as you called it, came over time I'd say with every little step we took we hadn't taken before. Not together, that is."
Check-ups with ultrasounds come to his mind and watching Scully's belly grow from a size he could easily spread his hand across to the size of a big watermelon. Mulder found out he loved Scully's weird food cravings and felt like a hero when he came back from a nightly trip to the supermarket to get her the mint chip ice cream she usually disliked. With every foot massage he gave her it felt like he was working off some of the guilt he still had smoldering inside him.
William interrupts his father's musings with a smirk on his face, "you really overdid it, dad!" alluding especially to the many times his father came home with a shopping bag from a baby store. The house was filled with baby toys even before his mother started showing.
"Maybe. It was fun though. And we're gonna have so much more fun as soon as they're home." Mulder winks mischievously. "I saw a stuffed alien in the window of the toy store on Main Street the other day."
"Oh, no, please! I saw it too, it's so ugly. And it's green! You don't want my baby sister to get the wrong idea about what color they are, do you?" For as long as he can remember, William has been told that little green men were actually gray.
Father and son laugh in unison, then William becomes pensive again. "Has she ever been in danger? Grace, I mean. Like Em and me? These men you were talking about, are they still out there?"
"I guess they are, but mom and I left the FBI many years ago, after you were born. We gave up fighting them, we never really stood a chance against them anyway. They were so much more powerful than we were."
At first, Mulder and Scully had felt like deserters, but after some time, they acclimated to their new civilian lives. Scully finally started the medical career her family had wanted to see her in for a long time, and Mulder used his psychology degree to open a practice and treat children with learning disabilities. In his spare time, he wrote poems and even put them in a successful book. It took them a while, but eventually Special Agents Mulder and Scully understood they had paid their dues and deserved a normal life far away from the darkness that had been their daily concern for so many years.
"We are still connected to our former boss, who's a high-ranking official at the Bureau. He would tell us if we had to be worried, and there hasn't been an incident in years. I think it's safe to say we don't have to fear anything from them anymore. I guess they are just relieved to have us off their backs. We could be pretty annoying, Scully and I."
"I can imagine that," William agrees, having been at the receiving end of parental annoyance regularly. "So we are safe now, all five of us. We can live our lives like we want to, without fear."
"For sure. Nothing to be afraid of but your next math exam." Mulder grins at his son.
"Very funny, dad."
"Speaking of exams," Mulder says looking at the watch on his wrist, "what do you say we call it a night? It's gotten late and it's a school day tomorrow."
"Da-aaad, can't I be excused? My mother gave birth to my baby sister today, how am I to sleep tonight?"
"Nice try, kiddo."
"Oh, come on, dad. Please?" William tries his puppy eyes on his father, but as a frequent user of the famous Mulder puppy eyes himself, he knows how to resist them. "Your mother wouldn't be pleased if she found out you used her to neglect your efforts at school, Will. I have a suggestion though. How about I pick you up after school and we visit mom for some more baby-watching? How does that sound?"
"Sounds good to me. Can we stop at the toy store and get them the stuffed alien?"
"The one you called ugly a few minutes ago?"
"It is ugly, but it's also funny." William shows him a conspirational grin. "Mom will hate it."
"Not if it comes from you, miracle boy," Mulder says, urging a Cheshire smile on his son's face.
William yawns. It's been a tough day for him filled with anxiety and a heavy conversation with each parent. Mulder sees it and feels exhausted just the same. "Let's hit the hay," he says, heaving himself up from the armchair. He nods at the boy, then they both get up too. "Good night, favorite-son-of-mine. Let me lock up, I'll follow you up in a jiffy."
William grins at his dad because of the favorite-son line. Although kind of lame, it warms his heart. He gives his father a goodnight hug, something which isn't a part of their usual retiring ritual. Mulder acknowledges it and holds on a bit longer than intended. When he finally releases him out of his grip, the boy disentangles himself and flies up the stairs taking two steps at a time.
William's chest is relieved of the weight he has been carrying around ever since his parents broke the news about a new baby who would intrude on his life. He had felt misunderstood and ignored, threatened in his position as the family's miracle. It seems all so childish now. He wishes he had spoken earlier to his parents because now that he has, he feels so much better. He is actually looking forward now to having his mom and baby sister home. He won't be the little brother in the house anymore but a big brother, and he is planning on being a good one.
Scully is sitting upright in her bed, rocking the newborn in her arms. She is tired from the physicality of having given birth a short while ago but her face glows and her eyes are full of joy. They light up even more when she sees Emily and William enter the room. William relaxes a little.
"Hey, there you are! What took you so long?" Scully asks. Her longing to have her older children beside her, and maybe a bit of impatience is palpable. Just the perfect question to add more fuel to the fire already flickering inside William.
"It took Em an eternity to get some snacks. The chocolate bars in the vending machine right where we were waiting weren't good enough, of course, so Miss I-only-eat-organics went to the other end of the hospital until she found something worthy to expose her body to. As always, it had to be the complicated solution. I take it they put the machine there exactly to make food and drinks accessible easily and quickly for people not to miss out the moment they are called. I waited almost half an hour for her to get back after dad told me to come see you. Not my fault we kept you waiting, I would've been fine with Snickers and Coke from the machine," William explains, not without some venom in his voice.
"How was I to know that the moment I lifted my butt off the chair for the first time in more than seven hours, the baby would make its entrance just then? And not sorry for wanting to eat healthy. I bet you'll like your favorite M&Ms which I also brought you. I didn't see them among the selections of the infamous vending machine, jerkhead...and it was 20 minutes tops."
"Please, calm down everyone! You're here now, and that's all that matters," Mulder says, throwing both his kids a stern look.
Scully notices the flowers in Emily's hand the girl has totally forgotten she is still holding onto. "Are these for me?" she asks and Emily giggles. "Oh, yes! They most certainly are!"
Emily hands the tray of food to her brother who takes it wrinkling his nose. Vegan muffins and a sugar-free iced tea. If it wasn't for the M&Ms, he would have given her a piece of his mind about her selection. Instead, he watches his sister handing the flowers to his mother. The gesture goes down well with her, she takes in their scent and smiles. "Tulips, my favorites!"
"I got you only three, I didn't have enough money for more. Each one represents one child. The yellow one is for the baby, the purple one is for Will, and the pink one is for me. I got them at the gift shop & cafeteria I went to," Emily suggests, sporting a proud smile.
William frowns, setting angry lines on his forehead. He throws the tray on a nearby table, making the muffins and cups jump up. Luckily, they are well sealed, otherwise, he would have made a mess. As if he cared. His mood has been on a downward spiral since his dad told him to get some shoes on as they were going to the hospital this morning. No matter what any family member is saying, no matter their intentions, it's pushing him even further. Looking at the tulips in his mother's hands, he shouts at his sister, "you know I hate purple! Why does the purple flower stand for me?"
"Because mom likes purple tulips, dummy! And sorry for including you in my scheme. Maybe I should've just gotten her two...from the girls of the family. You're obviously too stubborn to enjoy any of this," Emily retorts, not sparing him the presumptuous tone of an older sibling and putting an extra emphasis on the word 'girls'.
Although this kind of heated brother-sister-banter is no more than usual, Scully is not in the mood for it right now. She wants this to be a memorable family moment, so the ruffled atmosphere needs to be cooled down. "I like them all the same, thanks, Em," she says in a soft voice, and throwing a loving smile at William she continues, "and purple is indeed my favorite color."
His mother managed to take a bit off of the edges of William's temper. He remembers what his sole interest was, what he has come here to find out. "How are you doing, mom?"
"I am perfectly fine, and so is your baby sister. Dad and I decided to call her Grace. We hope you like the name as much as we do."
Mulder also tries to lighten the mood, "well, I might call her Cutie Patootie, Munchkin or Snickerdoodle," he admits, already lovestruck by his youngest daughter. When he hears William groan though, he adds, "or simply Gracie."
"It's a very nice name. I love it," Emily says.
After his groan, William lets out a dramatic sigh now. "Of course, you do." It irritates not only his parents but also his sister. "What is the matter with you?" she asks, "is there anything I can say or do today that you won't take the wrong way?"
"I don't care what you say or do. For once, it's not you who is the center of attention." With this, he turns to Scully. "You are a little pale, mom. Are you really okay? How did it go? Did the baby give you a hard time?"
"All went well, I'm just a bit tired, that's all. It was a little more strenuous compared to the last time I did this, but I was in good hands and I had support." Scully looks at Mulder who might have gotten some bruises from her squeezing his hand hard during the worst contractions. "If this little lady lets me get some sleep later, I'll recover in no time," she says with a smile. And then she addresses the baby in her arms. "This is your family, Gracie. You know daddy already," she throws Mulder a loving look, "and here are your sister Emily and brother William."
"She's so tiny," Emily notices. She was only six when her brother was born and doesn't remember much from back then.
"She's 20 inches long and weighs 6 pounds and 2 ounces," Mulder announces, every fiber of his being a textbook proud father. "10 fingers, 10 toes, and her mother's beautiful face."
William rolls his eyes. "Sheesh, dad, stop being so cheesy. She looks like any newborn, shriveled and puffy."
"You're such a party pooper, Will," Emily chastises him again. "She is beautiful. Can I hold her, mom?"
"Sure," Scully says, holding the pink bundle out to her. "Just make sure to support the head. She doesn't have the strength yet to hold it herself."
"Heeeellooo, cutie," Emily coos at her baby sister as soon as she's holding her in her arms. She remembers when she first learned she was going to get another sibling. She knew her parents were wishing for nothing but a healthy baby, but Emily secretly hoped the healthy baby would also be a girl. Although the age difference between them would be significant, she pictured herself doing all kinds of girl stuff with her younger sister: braiding hair and polishing nails, having tea with her dolls, taking her shopping, maybe to the ballet when she was older. Emily is so happy now that her wish has come true and she is holding baby Grace in her arms. 'We are going to have so much fun,' she thinks, and she says, "welcome to this world and our little family. We've been waiting for you and now you're here. I will always look after you, I promise, and I will do my best to be a good big sister." Placing a kiss on the baby's head she adds, "I love you."
Mulder and Scully are touched by this display of sisterly love, William is not. "Oh come on, Em! This is not one of your schmaltzy novels!" he says, rolling his eyes again. Scully looks at him, observing his body language. He has retreated into the farthest corner of the room, both hands in his pockets, his whole body like a tensed bow ready to snap any second, sporting a more than annoyed face.
"Mulder, would you do me a favor and ask for a few more diapers at the maternity ward? They left me with only two and I might need a couple more for the night. You can take Grace for a ride in the bassinet, it might rock her asleep."
"Sure, Scully. Anything else you need?"
"No, thanks. Would you like to join your father, Em? There are a lot of cute babies in the maternity ward. I was told they even have a set of triplets."
"You bet!" Emily agrees cheerfully and places the baby in the rolling bassinet beside Scully's bed. After she's tucked her baby sister in properly, she pushes the bassinet towards the door her father has already vanished through. "You comin', Will?" she tosses over her shoulder. "Mom could use some rest."
The boy moans. "Do I have to?" He isn't interested one bit in looking at even more babies, triplets or not. If he hears one more sugary sweet adult cooing at a baby's face, he thinks he might gag.
"You can stay with me," Scully says.
For the first time since he entered the hospital, something like joy is spreading across his face. "Great! I'll stay here then. Get me a candy bar from that vending machine, will ya?" he yells at Mulder and Emily before they close the door. He is relieved his mother took him off the hook, oblivious to the fact this went exactly as she intended. He places himself on one of the plastic chairs and pulls out his phone. There would certainly be a few texts to check, and if not, a game to resume.
"What's the matter, Will?" His mother's warm voice pulls him out of his short-lived contentment. He lifts his eyes off the screen to meet hers. "Huh?"
"What is the matter with you?"
"Nothin'. What makes you ask?"
"You've barely looked at me, let alone at your baby sister."
Scully knows better than to feel offended. She remembers the time her mother had given birth to Charlie and her father brought the three older siblings to welcome him. Melissa and herself felt at ease with their baby brother from the get-go, but for Bill, it was difficult and awkward. Girls just seem to warm up more naturally with babies than boys. But there seems to be something else amiss with William. He not only shows awkwardness toward the new family situation but outright rejection.
"I will have plenty of time to make up for that, wouldn't you say? Given the fact that you'll bring her home in a few days. When will you be discharged?"
Scully asks herself if he was hoping sooner or rather later. She pats on the bed next to her legs. "Come here."
William sighs. "Do I have to?"
"I'm asking you. Please, sit with me."
The boy gets up from his chair as if he wore chest armor, grunting and dragging his feet approaching his mother's bed. He lets himself fall onto the spot she indicated, making the mattress bounce up and down a few times. Scully, who is still sore from childbirth, winces at the sharp pain in her abdomen. It startles William and his so far uninvolved demeanor immediately turns into a worried one. "What's wrong, mom?"
"Nothing, sweetheart. It's just that at the moment my body doesn't respond well to being shaken, but it'll dissipate quickly. I'm fine," she assures him with a smile.
"You want me to call a doctor? Or a nurse?"
"That won't be necessary."
"Sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"You said everything went well. Was it the truth or were you just trying to calm me?"
Scully feels she is getting closer to the core of her son's state of mind. "There were no complications, Will. Everything went as it should. Grace and I are perfectly fine. They are keeping us for two or three days for observation, then we will be allowed to come home."
"Good," Will mumbles, turning his head away from Scully. She looks at his side, trying to figure out what is going on in his head. She takes a cautious approach. "Were you worried?"
"Of course, I was."
"About me?"
"Who else about?"
He could've also been worried about his baby sister, but he is more than clear in his demonstrating how uninvolved he is when it comes to her. It strikes Scully as odd because under normal circumstances William is a very compassionate and sensitive teenager. Maybe the circumstances just aren't normal. "Why are you so angry?" she asks.
"I'm not angry," he suggests, knowing full well it's not true.
"Yes, you are. I know you, my son. I know this look and this tone of voice. You are angry."
Faster than he would have wanted, he hears himself admit, "maybe a little."
Scully takes William's hand in hers and squeezes it. "At me?" When she gets nothing but a noncommittal shrug, she squeezes a little harder. "What did I do?"
"Nothin'."
"Talk to me, Will!"
"Okay. If you insist." William repositions himself on the bed to face his mother, more careful this time not to stir her body again. He takes a deep breath, then lets the air out noisily. He will speak out about what has been heavy on his mind for so long. It feels like spitting out a cherry pit he accidentally put into his mouth with a bite of pie. "You took a chance to die and leave Em and me alone just to have another baby."
Whatever Scully might have expected, this was not it. She makes sure she has heard right. "I took a chance to die?"
"Women can die giving birth. True?"
"Yes, true, but very unlikely." Compared to when she gave birth to William, Scully felt it was like a walk in the park this time with no Super Soldiers there to witness her final push. Her body wasn't complying as it did so many years ago, labor went on a little longer, and she will have to allow herself more time to recover, but everything else went incredibly well. "Giving birth in a hospital is very safe, Will. Even if something unforeseeable happens, experienced labor nurses and doctors know what to do. There is always an operating room close by to perform an emergency c-section if the baby needs to be born quickly. Women all over the world give birth every day, it's a natural process. Nothing to worry about."
"Well, that didn't keep you from expecting the worst, did it?"
The statement earns him a look of incomprehension, Scully has no idea what he is talking about. "I was expecting the worst?"
"Don't deny it. If there had to be a choice made between you and the baby, you wanted the baby to live. You thought we would be happy if the baby lived and would find a way to manage without you. You didn't think a second about what it would mean for us if you died. That was so selfish of you!"
Scully ponders what could have made William believe what he has just been saying. Never had she spoken to him about any possible risks in the context of her pregnancy, let alone the chance of anyone dying - her or the baby. She assessed the risks of late motherhood in general and her very own in particular mainly with herself, was reluctant to share her fears even with Mulder and had only opened up to him once or twice. Then it dawned on her.
"You overheard the conversation I had with your father the night we told you about the baby."
William slowly nods his head. He had gone to bed already but then he was thirsty and wanted to get something to drink from the fridge. When he reached the upstairs landing, he heard his dad argue with his mom, telling her he wouldn't know how to raise three children without her. His mom said that Em and he were old enough to look after themselves and that she thought his dad was totally capable of looking after the baby alone.
"'You'll be fine, all four of you will be.' That's what you said, mom, I heard you." William has stopped hiding his suppressed anger. With every sentence, the pressure on his chest dissipates a little more, subconsciously and unintentionally increasing the one on his mother's. "You said you didn't want to live with the knowledge the baby gave its life for you, but you expected us to live with the knowledge you gave your life for the baby."
"I'm sorry you heard that, Will. I didn't mean to worry anyone. Not your father, and even less you." All she wanted was to take the burden off of Mulder as he would be in no frame of mind to make this decision if it had to be made.
"Why would you do that, mom? Why would you choose to die, only to let a baby live you don't even know yet?"
"Because I'm a mother. It's what mothers do for their children. Nothing is more important for a mother than the health and happiness of her children."
"We wouldn't have been happy if you had died, Em and I. But obviously, you didn't care." William has talked himself into an agitated state by now. His earlobes are hot like always when he's upset and he feels his cheeks blush as the adrenaline is pushed through his system. He squints his eyes in an effort to keep the angry tears at bay that threaten to jump out of them. Scully is familiar with all of the signs of her son's temper management.
"I hear you, Will, and I understand you. I'm so sorry you thought I didn't care about you, because rest assured, nothing is further from the truth. I love and care about all my children equally. Every one of you has enriched my life in a way you can't imagine." She looks at her son who isn't appeased so easily.
"Blah blah blah...actions speak louder than words, mom. You were willing to leave me alone. I wouldn't have had a mother to see me graduate, marry, have my own children. I would've had to go through all this alone."
"You wouldn't have been alone, you would've had a family, the best father in the world, and a loving sister...two sisters."
"But I would've wanted you!" the boy yells. His face is contorted, not by anger now, but by fear. As if he was still scared, overlooking the fact that his mother is sitting in front of him perfectly alright. And then the wall around his heart he so fiercely tried to maintain breaks down in a matter of seconds. Tears are running down his cheeks and his body is shaken by violent sobs. "You, mom. I would've wanted you. Needed you," he stammers. "Dad is a good father, and Em can be a nice sister when she tries, and maybe one day I would've even liked the baby, but I would've never been fine again without you. Ever!" And with that he throws himself into Scully's arms, crying bitterly, causing a sharp pain in her abdomen again. A pain she doesn't feel at all because all that aches right now is her heart. She kisses his head and gently strokes his back. She holds him, rocks him like when he was a toddler and she comforted him after he scraped his knee falling off a tree.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry. Had I only known what was going on in your head, I would've explained what made me say that to your father. I would've told you that there is nothing in the world I want to see more than you graduating, marrying, and having your own family. I would've also told you that the chances of something happening to me were slim. I would've done all in my power to soothe your fears, honey. I'm so sorry you had to go through this." She rakes her fingers through his thick hair, knowing he used to like it when he was younger and crying in her arms more often than lately. She feels him relax, and eventually, the sobbing dissipates. It seems to be a good moment to share something else with him.
"As a young woman, I was told I couldn't have children. Did you know that?"
William looks up, his eyes puffy and his nose snotty. "No," he says, and his questioning look encourages her to go on. "I hadn't really thought much about motherhood until then, and still, it hit me. Somehow, when I looked at my future, it had always had a family in store for me, and from one day to the next, I had to accept that I would never be a mother. Maybe not even get married. No man would marry a woman he couldn't start a family with, I thought."
William eyes Scully attentively, her voice is firm and face neutral despite the dire things she is talking about. "That must have been hard," he assumes.
"It was. So, when Emily suddenly came into my life, I felt so lucky. We connected right away and I was so grateful for the chance to adopt her. It wasn't easy to get custody, but with Mulder's offer to get married, it worked."
William doesn't know the full story of his sister's adoption. Emily has been told all the circumstances which led to Scully getting custody of her, medical rape and unethical experiments included, and one day, they will tell William too. It's difficult though, to decide which detail of the crazy lives they led to disclose when to which child.
"So Emily made you a mother, you had what you wanted. You must have been happy."
"Sure. Very happy. So happy that my maternal feelings went into overdrive and I wanted another very badly. Instead of adopting, I decided on trying in-vitro." For the moment she delicately skips over the details of her lost ova. "It didn't work and I was devastated as I believed this had been my only chance for a second child."
"But then you had me," he said, very confused.
Scully smiles. She pensively strokes through his hair when she repeats, "then I had you. Mulder had told me to never give up on a miracle, but I hadn't dared to hope for anything anymore. When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I didn't believe him at first, and throughout the entire pregnancy, I feared I might lose you. Even when you were born, I was anxious something could happen to you." Again, she is skipping parts of the story. All he needs to understand is that he is equally important to her as his baby sister. At fourteen, it's not important he knows that his parents were involved in a government conspiracy that jeopardized their entire family life. "It took a while until I allowed myself to believe in the miracle, but since then, it has simply been wonderful. A family like ours is all I've ever wanted and every moment with Mulder, Emily, and you has been a joy."
Scully observes her son's reaction to her words to see if he gets what she is trying to tell him. Even if every child has their very own story of how they came into their lives, once they joined the family, life without them was simply unimaginable - for Mulder as well as herself. What William says next, his voice subdued, tells her, he didn't quite get it. "And now you have your second miracle."
"A second miracle is never as miraculous as the first, Will. Believe me, your father and I hadn't tried for another baby. Especially not at this time in our lives. Nothing was missing for us, but now that Gracie is here, she is...(How can she put this across to a fourteen-year-old?)...she is the cherry on top of the cake. Something you didn't know you wanted, something you thought wasn't really necessary to make the cake perfect, but now that it's there on top of the frosting, it looks even more beautiful and it tastes even better. And from that point onward, you will never have this cake without the cherry on top again."
"Hmm." William lets that sink in for a moment. His mind is spinning trying to make sense of all the information he is getting. Finally, he thinks he can relate. "Like with the bike you gave me on my birthday. I didn't know I loved cycling that much until I got the new bike. And now that I have it, I can't imagine how I ever got along without it."
"It sounds like what I've been trying to say. A baby isn't a bike, of course. It's a living creature and a lifelong commitment, but I think you got what I meant. See, each of you three has a very special place in my heart. You are all different, you have come to me under different circumstances and at totally different points in my life, but that doesn't mean that one is more important or more loved than the other. Does that make any sense to you?"
"I guess it does," the boy says, and avoiding his mother's eyes he reluctantly admits, "I am sorry, mom. I wronged you. I should've known better."
"No, I am sorry I haven't noticed you had something this big on your chest. I did notice you weren't really happy about the pregnancy, but I guess I was a little too caught up in the whole thing. It came as a total surprise and overwhelmed me, especially at the beginning. You've got to promise to come to me next time something this heavy is bothering you. There is nothing we can't talk about, Will. Absolutely nothing."
Mother and son look at each other intensely for a moment, then William nods and offers her a big smile. "Will do, mom!"
"So when Grace annoys you - and believe me, she will! - let us know. We will find a way to make this work. I promise."
Having said this, the door to the room flies open and a cheerful father-daughter-trio enters the room, a proud dad with his two daughters. Perfect timing, Mulder, Scully thinks. She catches his eye and they exchange a knowing look. Their ability to communicate non-verbally hasn't waned one bit since they have left the Bureau.
"Oh my god, the triplets are so cute! It would've been so cool if we also had three babies instead of just one." Emily giggles when she sees the three shocked faces staring at her. "Just kidding, guys!"
"Well, I have three children," Scully says, "and I don't mind at all that they are some years apart."
William is still sitting on Scully's bed, something Mulder is pleased to see. He had an idea why Scully brushed Emily, the baby, and him out of the room earlier, so he tried to keep his daughters entertained long enough for mother and son to talk. They had a good conversation obviously because Scully is smiling and Will's whole demeanor is far less defensive than before.
"We are bringing you a very sleepy baby, Scully. I think you should get some rest now, too. Soon, she will be hungry again and before that happens, I want you to get some sleep. Come on, guys, let's leave mom and Grace alone. We can come back tomorrow for more baby-watching."
"Alright. Bye, mom," Emily says, giving her mother a hug.
"Bye, honey," Mulder says, placing a soft kiss on Scully's lips. "Will you give me a call later, after your nap? I'd like to facetime you two before going to bed myself."
"I'll call you when she's fed and changed."
"Great. I love you."
"I love you, too."
They share another kiss, a little longer and deeper than the first one. William is still sitting next to Scully on the bed and, surprisingly, is not expressing any signs of discomfort about his parents' expressions of tenderness. As soon as his father has stepped aside, he leans in for a hug and lets his mom pull him to her chest. "I love you, mom," he whispers into her ear, "and the baby...I mean Gracie...she really is cute."
"I love you, too, miracle-son-o'-mine," Scully whispers back. It was an exchange only meant for the two of them.
As soon as the door is closed behind them, Scully leans back and looks at the transparent bassinet next to her bed where her baby is sleeping peacefully. Tears are welling up in her eyes and she knows they can partly be chalked up to the post-natal release of hormones but mostly to the conversation she had with her son. Her thoughts are walking back to the day they told Emily and William that their family would grow. She had been tensed up for days, ever since the amniocentesis had been performed, but that day the results had come in and everything was fine. The time had come to tell the kids. Scully remembers Emily's exuberant and William's somewhat contained reaction. She wasn't able to react to either of them appropriately. She should have calmed her daughter down and questioned her son but Scully was too immersed in her fears of yet another intervention by the Syndicate to let any family member's state of mind come close to her.
They had lived relatively carefree lives after Mulder and she had quit the service. The Cigarette Smoking Man had seemingly lost his interest in them, but she had never felt completely safe. Becoming pregnant at her stage of life, having never been told she regained her fertility after the Syndicate had taken her ova, didn't exactly contribute to thinking he and his cronies had left her family alone for good. A great number of nightmares and many hours of contemplating the worst were to haunt her for the coming months, including where and how she would give birth. That that has gone as planned gives her hope that maybe - maybe - she will be allowed to enjoy the happiness her heart is filled with right now longer than the last time, with Mulder at her side.
Scully gently touches the cross which dangles from the necklace her mother gave her for Christmas when she was a teenager and engages in a silent conversation with God. She asks for protection for her loved ones, for guidance in dealing with her fears, and - she can't help it - for the condemnation of the Cigarette Smoking Man. 'I will allow myself to fully enjoy this. We deserve this. For all Mulder and I have suffered in the past, we will be redeemed,' are Scully's last thoughts before exhaustion overwhelms her and takes her to a much-needed sleep.
The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully’s condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder’s body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. “Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife,” she says, holding her hand out to shake his.
“Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William,” Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. “How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?”
“Hello everybody,” the doctor says good-naturedly. “Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?”
William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. “What? Ew, no way! Gross!” He shakes his head vehemently. “Never ever!”
Mulder looks at his daughter. “Em?”
Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. “I’d rather stay with Will. We don’t want him sitting here all by himself,” she says.
“I don’t need a sitter,” William snaps, “I’m not a baby.”
“But you definitely behave like one,” Emily fires back. “Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn’t have to worry about us at each other’s throats out here.”
“Alright,” Doctor Hanson says. “The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully…I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry…your wife will be happy to see you.” She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily’s hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. “Okay, kids. See you later then,” he says and hurries to follow the doctor.
The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.
"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"
"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"
William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"
Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"
Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.
"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."
"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."
"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.
"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.
"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.
"Nah, I'm good."
Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."
"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."
"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.
"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"
"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."
"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."
William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"
"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"
"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.
"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."
"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.
"I don't think so."
"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."
"And how do you know?"
"I read stuff."
"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.
"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."
"Mom's not old."
"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."
"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"
"I just can't believe they let this happen."
"Let what happen?"
"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"
"Well, I can tell you how..."
"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"
"I guess it just happened."
"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."
Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"
"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."
"Bullshit."
William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"
"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.
"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.
Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.
He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.
And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"
"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"
"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"
"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.
Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."
"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.
Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.
"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"
"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"
Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."
"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."
"Where are they?"
"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.
"Okay, let's go then."
Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.
"Girl."
"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.
William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.
I haven’t posted a story in a while. I missed it, and so I am very pleased to offer chapter one of a four-chapter piece which has been sitting around unfinished for quite a while. With the help of a native speaker friend (as I am not native) I managed to get it done and ready to share with others. So enjoy and comment if you like.
tagging @today-in-fic
CHAPTER ONE
Mulder has been trying to set up the changing table for the soon-to-be newest addition to their family for some time now and is getting more frustrated by the minute. William promised to help but then, all of a sudden, he remembered an important homework assignment was due tomorrow and retreated into his room. Unsurprisingly, Mulder hears he's more on the phone with his buddies than anything else but decides not to start an argument. The teenager closes off whenever the topic of his new sibling comes up and Mulder just isn't in the mood for yet another demonstration of how the boy is not amused about how their family situation is going to change. The closer the due date is, three more weeks as of today, the more tense Mulder becomes juggling a moody heavily pregnant woman and a moody teenage boy, both on a hormone roller coaster. Emily could have been a balancing factor, but the now twenty-year-old had moved into a dorm when she started college to spare herself the daily commute from their remote house.
"Come on, you can do this," Mulder cheers himself on. "You've solved much more complicated problems than screwing together a few boards." His eyes trained on a strangely shaped tool, his mind wanders to Scully who is in town running errands. The plan is to be done with this thing before she returns, order in whatever food she is craving, and spend a quiet evening on the couch. He can imagine what she will say if she sees he hasn't been able to get the job done, as she had presciently proposed getting it delivered and assembled by someone from the store at a very low additional cost. His insistence on doing it himself is now haunting him. Still marveling about how he could have failed so miserably, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.
"Ah, thinking of the devil," he says when he sees the caller ID. "Scully?"
"Hi, Mulder."
"When will you be home?" Not too soon, he hopes. Maybe he can get this changing table set up in time after all.
"Uh, listen," Scully starts but then says no more. Mulder waits for her to continue, his phone between his ear and his shoulder, concentrating more on the task at hand than on the phone call, trying to find a clue in the manual for what to do with the strange tool he is holding in his hand.
"I'm listening."
"Promise me not to panic," she says but of course bringing about exactly the opposite. The changing table is of no importance anymore, Mulder's attention is fully on his wife's voice.
"What's going on, Scully? Are you okay?" he asks, rising from his crouch and already looking around for his car keys.
"I am at the hospital. Relax, I'm fine. I told them it was Braxton-Hicks at the grocery store, but they called an ambulance and here I am, in labor. So, ready or not, the baby will be here today. Come here and bring the kids."
"Okay, hang on, we'll be there asap," Mulder says, slipping into his jacket and grabbing the keys he spotted on the sideboard underneath the window.
"There is no need to hurry, Mulder. We still have plenty of time, so I want you to take a deep breath and calm yourself before you get in the car."
"I am calm. Totally calm."
"No, you're not. I know you don't want to miss out this time, and I promise you won't. Just get here in one piece, please. Drive safely, no speeding."
"Okay."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
"I don't want to worry about you. I need to focus."
"You focus, I get the kids. See ya!"
Ending the call, Mulder shouts upstairs for his son, and a mere five minutes later they are both in the car to pick up Emily. Mulder reached his daughter in the library but she promised to be waiting for them at the dorm's parking lot. The ride there is silent, giving Mulder's anxieties free rein. All the complications he worried about throughout the pregnancy were plaguing him, but all the checkups, the ultrasounds, the tests, all had gone so smoothly. It surely cannot be the case now, only three weeks away from the due date, that something could go wrong. When he looks in the rearview mirror, he sees his 14-year-old son staring at his phone seemingly unfazed by what is about to happen. In a way, he admires his laissez-faire attitude, meanwhile, he keeps trying to soothe himself by nibbling sunflower seeds from a bag he keeps stored in the glove compartment.
It usually takes them an hour to drive from their house at Farrs Corner to Emily's college; Mulder makes it in 52 minutes today, not really speeding but pushing every single speed limit on the way. And then there is no Emily in sight when they pull into the parking area. It takes 20 minutes, 20 long minutes Mulder uses to type several texts into his phone ('We're here.' 'Where are you?' 'Still waiting...' ), until her familiar form appears around the corner and she falls into a run towards the car. "Ah, there she is. Finally," Mulder mumbles as he pops another seed in his mouth, the activity doing nothing to calm his nerves.
"What did you expect, dad?" William asks from the backseat. "She's a girl, I bet she's taken her time to get dressed and styled properly for the doctors that might cross her path at the hospital."
"Since when are you an expert on girls and their dressing and styling procedures?" Mulder asks, tossing the question over his right shoulder.
"I'm an expert on my sister. I can't count the dates she kept waiting before she made her appearance when she was still living with us. I bet that hasn't changed."
Mulder and William observe how Emily opens the passenger door and lets herself fall onto the seat. She leans over the middle console to place a kiss on her father's cheek and turns around to nod to her brother. "Hi, guys," she greets them good-naturedly. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."
William only rolls his eyes, but Mulder knows better than to complain about her delay. Scully is waiting for them at the hospital, fighting away the pain of labor. He wants to get there as quickly as possible. The fear of once again being too late to witness his child being born is gnawing at him heavily.
"How is mom?" Emily wants to know.
Mulder is pulling out of the campus parking lot as he says, "she said she was fine when I talked to her."
Emily huffs, "well, mom saying she's fine doesn't necessarily mean she is fine, though, does it?" All three of them know she is right. Mulder pushes the throttle.
"Dad," Emily gently says with a slight smirk around the corner of her mouth, "if we get pulled over by the police, it will take more of our time than respecting the speed limits. Do you want me to drive? You seem a bit on edge."
The idea isn't so bad, but it would mean they lose thirty seconds switching seats and another minute or so for Emily to adjust her sitting position and all the mirrors, which she always does meticulously, so Mulder decides against it. "No, I'm alright," he says, taking the cruise control down 3mph.
Emily can't stop being concerned about her mother and voices those concerns whether or not her father wants to hear them at the moment. "Will we be of any help, Will and I? I mean, what can we do other than sit around in the waiting area kneading our fingers? As curious as I am to meet my baby sister or brother, I wouldn't want to put too much strain on mom. I mean we know her, right? She will worry if we have enough to drink or eat, if we get tired, if we should be doing some homework... Maybe you should have gone alone, dad, without us in tow."
"She told me explicitly to get you, and when she has taken something into her head, she won't be talked out of it. The least by me."
"Also true," the girl agrees.
"She wants all of us with her at this very special moment for our family. You know her, she's a mother hen, she wants all her chicks with her," Mulder adds with a smile. From the corner of his eye, he sees Emily nod in agreement also with a knowing smile on her face. When he looks in the rearview mirror to establish affirmative eye contact with his son, too, all he gets is a sour face. "Everything alright, Will?"
"She didn't care so much about us before, so why now all of a sudden?" the boy mutters, his voice unemotional. He is very obviously not sharing the joyfully excited attitude of the other two people in the car. Emily's head turns around to look at her brother. A shocked Mulder fixates on his son in the rearview mirror. "What's that supposed to mean, Will? She didn't care for you? All she's ever done was care for you. I can't remember a single day since Scully's been a mother that she hasn't cared for her children."
"She cares for this new baby alright, but not for us. Not for Em and me. At least not anymore."
"What are you talking about?" Emily chimes in.
William looks out the window, mumbling a hardly audible, "nothin'."
"Spit it out, little brother. You can't make these allegations and then leave them hanging in the air."
William sighs, and for a moment he doesn't feel like answering, but then the anger which has been accumulating inside of him for a long time gets the better of him. "All she talked about was the baby. The baby this, the baby that. She wasn't interested in what happened in my life at all. She didn't even ask about school anymore, let alone help me study for my biology or chemistry exams." William looks accusingly at his father's reflection, whose eyes are more on his son than on the road where they should be.
"And how does this mean she cares more for the baby than for us?" Emily asks, turning in the passenger seat into a kneeling position to face her brother in the back. "Dealing with the pregnancy took a lot of her time, so what? It's not like you're a kindergartener who needs his mommy 24/7. I bet doing your homework on your own for a change, without mom helping you boost your grades at the very last minute, helped you become a better student."
"When was the last time she prepared our favorite meal, Em? Our Sunday family dinners consisted of Thai takeout these last weeks. No lasagna, no chicken curry, no pies for dessert. Painting the baby's room and washing the onesies was more important than cooking for us."
"It's called nesting, stupid! It's natural for a pregnant woman to prepare as much as possible. It's a hormone thing as far as I know. It doesn't mean the baby is more important than we are. It's nature," Emily explains in a condescending tone. "Instead of whining about it, you could've helped her with the baby stuff or maybe you could've even looked into a cookbook yourself. Preparing a pasta dish is not rocket science, even you could manage."
"Easy for you to say. You live far away on campus, you didn't have to deal with how it was at home. She didn't care for what I wanted or needed at all. She didn't watch my ball games anymore, she didn't take me to the mall to get those sneakers she promised me, she even forgot the last parent-teacher conference. Mr. Hummings asked me in front of the whole class if she was sick and I had to tell him she was pregnant. From then on half my classmates made fun of me for having to deal with a crying baby and stinky diapers. That has been my life lately, sis. You have no idea!"
Emily shakes her head in disbelief. "Honestly, Will, I can't believe how childish you are, craving your mommy's attention so badly." Having vented, she turns around in her seat, not giving another thought to her brother's misgivings.
Mulder knows better than his daughter though. He senses there is more amiss with William than simply a sibling's rivalry for motherly affection. For years, he has complained whenever Scully asked him about school, suggesting she help him with his homework, and now all of a sudden, he complains about her not doing it. He wonders what has been going on in the boy's head lately but now that they are entering the hospital's parking garage, all he wants is to see Scully, coach her through labor like they practiced, and be there right next to her when their child makes its entrance into this world. An earnest conversation with his son will have to wait.
Set in between “Hungry” and “Millennium”. Some playful UST. Tagging @today-in-fic
Messy
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought this was Dana Scully’s apartment.” Mulder, standing in front of her door, is grinning from ear to ear and obviously finding himself very funny. “Do you know where I can find her?"
"Why are you here, Mulder?” With her flying out to San Diego tomorrow morning, it can’t be for a case. They said goodbye yesterday at the office and part of her has been expecting a call from him all day. Now here he is in front of her door, like a present she didn’t ask for. A welcome one, though.
“I forgot to give you your Christmas present.”
“I thought we said no presents this year.” They say it every year and yet they end up exchanging gifts every time. Mulder shrugs and smiles sheepishly. “Come on in, then.”
“It smells good in here,” he says, taking off his coat. He’s wearing her favorite grey t-shirt and for a moment the sight throws her off.
“Cookies,” she says, looking at him. “I’m making cookies for my family.”
i feel dumb sometimes because i only know how to write fanfiction. i'm horrible at making characters myself and i get so frustrated because i don't have the creativity authors do - instead, i get upset at myself for not making an incredible story with incredible characters that i turn back to fanfiction again. i love writing fanfiction but i want to write my own things too. i just don't know how
A lot of people say that fanfiction is “easy” to write, but it’s really not. It’s a genre of its own with its own expectations and rules to be followed.
You might not be creating new characters, but in order to write fic you need to understand the canon characters well. You need to develop them beyond what is shown in canon, but still have that development intensely tied to canon.
You also need to be able to express relationships and emotions at a deeper level than in other literary genres. Because characters are at the core of fanfiction, their relationships and interactions as well as their internal motivations tend to be central to any story that you write. Other genres can focus in on the plot or chasing the Mcguffin, but in fanfiction that is often secondary to characterization.
You can practice the skills involved in original fiction through fanfiction writing, too. Plot structure still exists in fic. Original characters can be inserted into stories to work alongside canon ones. Create an AU and you’ll do worldbuilding. All of that is transferable to other types of fiction, too.
Is it a matter of lacking creativity? Or is it just that you already like writing fic? Fanfic scratches a different kind of itch than original fiction, and published authors often write fic too because of that.
There’s nothing wrong with writing fanfiction. There’s nothing lesser about it. It’s still writing and it’s still creative and it’s still telling a story that didn’t exist until you sat down and wrote it. That’s something to be proud of.
For those of you looking only for part Z, just scroll a bit more than halfway down! (or take a read back through the whole thing- there are references back to the first 25 letters in the final installment!)
A/N: This story is coming to a close now, this is why it’s taken me so long to get this last chapter done. As always, I’m a bit sad to finish a story, but also looking forward to writing new stuff.
Find previous chapters here: Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III / Chapter IV / Chapter V / Chapter VI / Chapter VII / Chapter VIII / Chapter IX / Chapter X / Chapter XI / Chapter XII
Full story here: (X)
Chapter XIII
She’s weirdly withdrawn on our way home. Something’s not right. She’s been staring through the window without blinking for most of our trip and hasn’t said a word since we left the precinct. My eyes shoot back and forth between her and the road in front of us. Her hands are clenched into fists on her lap. When I cover them with mine I almost flinch because they’re cold as ice. I shortly direct my eyes back to the road ahead of us to make sure we’re not drifting off before I look at her again. Her breathing has become rapid and shallow, she’s almost hyperventilating I’d say, being the medical layman I am. I’ve never seen her like this.
“What’s the matter, Scully?”
“I…I don’t know,” she answers feebly. “My heart’s racing and my fingers are tingling.”
One quick, hasty glance onto the road, then my eyes are fixed on her again. Her face is so pale. What is going on here?
I was asked to write a sequel. I’m sorry it took me so long. Life, work, and a three-week-vacation in Scotland got in the way but here it is now. If you want to familiarize yourself with part I, you will find it here.
Tagging @today-in-fic
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Jackson didn’t know how long he had been looking outside lost in thought. Next to him in the back seat of the car, Dana was sleeping peacefully. Her head was tilted to the side so her face was turned to him. Jackson studied her face and recognized features he saw when he looked in the mirror: the freckles on her nose, the high cheekbones, the angular jaw. His hair had been reddish as a child but had become darker once he had hit puberty. The color resembled Mulder’s more now, who was sitting in the front steering silently. Jackson looked at the back of his birth father’s head and realized their hair was pretty much alike: dark brown, thick, shiny. He hadn’t shared any resemblances with his mama and pops. Of course not, they had been his adoptive parents, these were the parents whose genetic material he shared.
Maybe he should stop talking about them like this, labeling them his adoptive versus his birth parents. Maybe it was time to accept he had two sets of parents. One that had raised him and had given him the best childhood he could think of, and one who had always been there and had always cared about him but only now had the ability to act as parents. It broke his heart when he thought about how cruelly the Van De Kamps had been murdered but it also filled him with immense relief to know that he wasn’t alone. And this Mulder-and-Scully duo (he still found it a bit weird that they called each other by their last names) gave him the impression they knew what they were doing. They seemed capable of standing up to his enemies. They sure stood up against that smoking jerk, especially Dana, no matter how hopeless their situation had appeared to be or that she was so much smaller physically.
The car was coming to a halt in front of a steel gate. Mulder turned around and looked at him. “Would you mind opening that gate for me, Jackson?"
"Not at all,” Jackson said unbuckling his seat belt.
“Do you see the input box at that pole over there? The code it 1013. And close it again behind us, please. Make sure it’s securely locked.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson couldn’t help replying to the more than explicit request. He jumped out of the car and pushed the gate open. It was heavy and creaked quite a bit. He wondered where they were. It was pitch dark, the headlights of the car were the only source of light, they hadn’t come by any sign of human habitation for the past half hour, and now these security measures. Jackson asked himself where they were taking him.
Mulder drove slowly through the gate Jackson was holding and waited until he had pushed it back shut. The boy heard a click and rattled it a little to check if the bolt had latched completely. The light at the input pad, which had turned green when he had typed in the code, switched back to red. Everything seemed fine, so he hopped back in the car.
“When Dana said you had a house in the countryside I didn’t expect it to be that far away from human civilization,” Jackson deadpanned while buckling up again. He had no idea how much longer the trip would be.
Mulder chuckled. “Yeah, well, we’ve come to appreciate a certain quiet and isolation from the rest of the world. There was a time we didn’t want to be found. By anyone.”
Jackson let the words sink in. What was he to make of them? Had they been in a situation like this before? Having to flee and hide from people pursuing them? He didn’t have time to ponder about it much longer as a few minutes later a house came into view. A nice two-story building with gray roofing shingles, green wooden window frames, and a porch. A lamp illuminated the steps leading up to the front door. The place looked cozy and inviting. It actually reminded Jackson a bit of his first home, the Van De Kamp farmhouse in Wyoming, only that it had been much larger with stables for cattle and pasture lands surrounding it, but the place had evinced the same emotions in him: homecoming, comfort, safety.
Mulder parked the car in front of the porch and cut the engine. He turned around in his seat, looked at Scully who was still sleeping, smiled, then squeezed her knee gently. “Hey, sleepyhead, wake up. We’re home.” It was inconceivable that she was able to sleep after what had happened, Jackson thought. She either had been totally drained or so full of trust for that Mulder guy.
Said Mulder guy obviously knew what Jackson was thinking. “She can stay awake for more than 36 hours straight if need be, on a stakeout or at a patient’s bed in the hospital, but in a car when she’s not driving or reading a case file, she’s asleep in no time. It’s a gift. I wished I was able to do that. I am a notoriously bad sleeper.”
Mulder got out of the car, opened the door in the back and bent down to pull her sleeping form out when she stirred. Her eyes opened abruptly, she lifted her head and straightened herself up. “Mmmm, I must have dozed off for a second,” she said, her voice a sleepy mumble.
“Yes, sure, Scully. Just for a second, as always,” Mulder said. Jackson bit back a chuckle. This was obviously a well-known, recurring pattern in their lives.
Scully shook her head a little to get rid of the last remnants of sleep and swatted Mulder’s hand away from her knee. “Now let me get out. You weren’t thinking of carrying me, were you?”
Mulder put his hands up as if he had been told to freeze. He got up from his bent posture, stepped back and sighed. “No, of course not. Heaven forbid that you are not in charge for a split-second.”
Mulder was annoyed for a moment. Why was it so difficult for her to let him carry her, either figuratively or literally? She had allowed herself to be weak in his arms a few times lately: in the morgue after she had given her speech to what they had believed was their long-lost son in a body bag or in the motel when she hadn’t been able to sleep during that hangman case. She had even admitted her fear that he might find someone else one day. Someone else…what nonsense! As if there could ever be anyone else for Mulder than Scully.
Jackson noticed the slight tension between them but was distracted from thinking about it by a high-pitched barking. “You have a dog?” he asked, his memory going back to the dog he had as a child: Champ, a Golden Retriever who had followed his every step.
“Yes,” Mulder answered, “his name is Daggoo. He’s Scully’s actually. She stole him from a crime scene.”
“I didn’t steal him. I saved him from the animal shelter,” Scully defended herself.
“Secretly scheming to move him in with me because you weren’t allowed to have pets at your place.”
“Oh come on, you’ve got so much more space and you can’t deny that walking him three times a day is doing you good.”
“I’ve always loved how you’re able to manipulate people into thinking something’s good for them when it’s actually good for you,” Mulder said with a smile on his lips.
“I don’t have to remind you what happened to Queequeg, Mulder, do I? You owed me.”
Mulder only sighed at Scully’s stern look.
Jackson had followed their banter, glad on the one hand that the moment of tension had subsided, but also irritated that they had been talking of my place/your place. He had thought they were living together, that they were a couple. They had had him, made him ‘in an act of love’ as Dana had said, they had to have been together at some point. Had they ever been married? Their different last names left him guessing.
Mulder had opened the front door in the meantime. A white/brown terrier was jumping down the stairs yelping happily and wiggling his tail so much that his whole body was shaking heavily; as if he knew they were coming home from a dreadful endeavor and needed some cheering up. Jackson’s eyes lit up when he saw him and because dogs sensed instinctively who liked them and who didn’t he made toward the boy immediately and jumped up against his legs. “Daggoo, down!” Scully berated him but Jackson wasn’t minding the animal’s affection one bit. “It’s okay, I love dogs,” he said kneeling down petting him behind his ears. “Good boy,” he cooed, “you’re such a beauty, do you know that?” Daggoo licked his hand in return. It was love at first sight between them obviously.
Mulder and Scully exchanged a short glance, relief written on their faces. Their dog (they could banter as much as they wanted about 'my dog/your dog’, he really and truly was theirs) had conjured a bright smile on their son’s face for the first time since they had been reunited and they enjoyed seeing him so cheerful. Each of them made a silent promise to themselves to do everything in their power to make Jackson’s life happy and carefree again. They watched the boy and the dog for a moment longer, then Mulder ushered everyone inside.
Jackson looked around and felt instantly at home. The living room wasn’t tidied up, there were magazines lying around everywhere, a greasy pizza carton resided atop a coffee table and a blanket had been thrown haphazardly on the couch, but that was exactly what made the place homey. Scully saw it slightly differently though. “Goodness, when did you last clean this place up, Mulder?”
Bang! Another sign she wasn’t living here. Jackson slowly familiarized himself with the idea that his birth parents - his parents - weren’t a couple. What would this mean for him? Would they take turns caring for him? Like his best friend Pete spent his weekends alternately at his mom’s and dad’s? Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to have called for them after all. But where would he be now without them? With the Smoking Man? Believing this asshole was his father? Jackson’s insides tied a knot. No, he was definitely better off with them than without, no matter what the status of their relationship was. In any case, they were on good terms with each other, that much was clear. They would have to join forces to make this work for him. They owed him that much after they had given him up for adoption, didn’t they? “I don’t mind the mess,” he came to Mulder’s rescue.
“No, of course, you don’t,” Scully mumbled more to herself than to Jackson, “you’re also a man. I will never understand how one can live in such a mess. What has gone wrong in evolution to burden us with such a neglectful gender when it comes to housework?” She sighed deeply, picking up the pizza carton and throwing it into a trash can. She opened a cabinet, took a cleaning rag out, opened another one which contained the cleaning agents, soaked the rag with water and dishwashing liquid, wrung it out above the sink, then started wiping the coffee table.
At least she knew her way around the place, Jackson thought. If she really didn’t live here, she was a frequent guest at least. She definitely moved around as if she was at home. She was folding the blanket now and placed it on the couch’s backrest before she took care of the throw pillows, shaking them out and arranging them in an orderly fashion.
“See, this is something we men will never understand. What is the purpose of an exact arrangement of pillows on a sofa?” Mulder asked shedding his dirty jacket and throwing it carelessly on a chair. “Can you explain to me the scientific nature of pillow arranging, Dr. Scully?”
“It looks nice and tidy, Mulder. It’s aesthetic. It makes the place appear maintained instead of neglected and run-down,” she explained slightly irritated. And as if to strengthen her point, she lifted the jacket off the chair with two fingers and left the room. A moment later a loud thud could be heard, most likely the door of the washing machine.
Jackson threw Mulder a glance who only shrugged. This was all very familiar to the boy, he had witnessed interactions like this a million times between his parents. His other parents. Jeez, having four parents instead of two wasn’t easily put into words.
Scully re-entered the living room where Mulder and Jackson were still standing at the same spot, only Daggoo had moved and was making himself comfortable on one of the cushions she had just arranged. She looked at him and sighed, “et tu, Brute?” Jackson didn’t know what that meant and he also didn’t care that much. He was hungry. He hadn’t had a decent meal in days having been on the run from his pursuers. “Uhm, you said we could have something to eat,” he reminded them.
“Right, sure. I’m afraid the fridge isn’t well-stocked,” Mulder said and Scully chuckled loudly enough to strengthen her point about men and housekeeping. “But we can order something in. What would you like, Jackson? Italian, Thai? Or a burger maybe?”
“A burger would be great. With bacon and cheese, if it’s possible.”
“Sure. Fries?”
Jackson nodded and watched how Mulder pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Wasn’t he going to ask what Dana wanted, he wondered. She didn’t seem to ask herself the same though. Uninvolved in the process of deciding on the food, she slipped out of her shoes, put her feet on the coffee table, reached over to Daggoo and started petting him gently. Jackson listened as Mulder placed his order.
“Two deluxe double bacon cheeseburgers, please. Onion rings, two large orders of regular fries and one of the sweet potato fries. Make the sweet fries unsalted. A mixed salad with extra arugula instead of the radicchio, no onions but mushrooms, and the non-fat Italian dressing. … Deliver, please. The name is Mulder. 227700 Wallace Road, Farrs Corner. … Yes, I know how far out it is. Tell Pete to give me a call when he’s at the gate. I will meet him down there. He knows the procedure. … Thanks. Bye.” He winked at Jackson when their eyes met and added, “Pete knows he gets a generous tip.”
It didn’t go unnoticed by Jackson that Mulder knew exactly what to order for Dana, and her choice wasn’t exactly mundane. The sweet potato fries were also for her, he presumed. Which real guy ate sweet potato fries? Unsalted, to top it. And if messy homes were typical for men, salads with non-fat dressings were typical for women. No wonder she was so tiny and thin. If her diet had consisted more of greens than anything since her youth, her body had simply lacked the nutrients to grow. At least that was what mama had always told him. “Eat your steak and potatoes, Jackson, so you grow up fit and strong!” He was glad he had inherited his height from Mulder and not from Dana. Small women were cute and evoked a man’s protective instinct (Jackson was sure though that she hated her stature had this effect on men) but small men were a target of mockery. He was even taller than Mulder, and he was only seventeen. Maybe he would still grow a couple of inches.
When Mulder got back with dinner, Scully and Jackson had already laid the table. They ate mostly in silence, Mulder and Jackson eating with their hands gobbling down their food like hungry wolves, Scully picking listlessly at her salad with a fork. The unsalted sweet potato fries remained untouched but Jackson watched how delicate manicured fingers made their way into the box with the regular fries. She put a handful of the salty, greasy food into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, licked her fingers with relish, which was then followed by a satisfied hum. Mulder didn’t even look up as all of this happened, he registered it out of the corner of his eye and just smirked slightly. Jackson couldn’t help but think that they acted so much like a married couple; as if they had known each other for years and years. How could they not be living at this place together? Well, he would get more hints about their relationship once the sleeping arrangements were discussed.
When they had finished their food and Scully got up to clear the table, Mulder grabbed her wrist and made her sit back down. “Nuh-uh, Scully, let the neglectful gender take care of this. How about you make yourself comfortable on the sofa with Daggoo?”
“Nice idea, Mulder, but someone has to change the sheets in the guest room. I can’t see you taking care of this after my last sleepover.”
With this, she vanished into the hallway and left Mulder and Jackson alone with a very uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jackson addressed the elephant in the room. He needed clarity anyway, he might as well ask.
“I thought you guys were married.”
“Uh, no, we’re not.”
“So you’re divorced.”
Jackson simply assumed they had to be divorced if they weren’t married. They had a child together, him, so they had to be married sometime in the past. He wasn’t prudish or anything, he knew people had sex without being married, but where he came from people got married when they wanted to have children.
“No. We…erm, we never got married.”
“Well, it makes sense then,” Jackson said.
“What makes sense?”
“That your last names are different.”
“Our last names don’t have much to do with it, actually. Even if we had gotten married, I doubt we would ever have been Mr. and Mrs. Mulder. I guess we simply missed the right moment to tie the knot. I asked her once to marry me but she didn’t believe I was serious.”
“Were you?”
“Hmm…I don’t know. Maybe not a hundred percent. But if she’d said yes, I wouldn’t have regretted asking.”
“And the topic has never come up again?”
“No.”
“Not even from her?”
“No.”
“Strange. I thought all women wanted to get married and have kids.”
“Scully isn’t like other women. Her independence is very important to her. We weren’t any less committed to each other because we weren’t married, that’s for sure. Maybe that’s why. Our commitment to one another was so strong, we didn’t need a wedding certificate to prove it.”
“Whatever, you spared yourselves an ugly divorce with your separation.”
“What makes you think we’re separated?”
“Well, you’ve been talking about 'mine’ and 'yours’ a lot, like separated people do. Daggoo is her dog that cannot stay at her place but needs to stay at yours. The mess we stumbled into also was yours, Dana made that clear. And she sleeps in the guest room. All of that cries out 'separation’. I have a good power of observation.”
Jackson had seen it happening to a friend’s family. Everything that had belonged to the family before became branded with 'mine’ and 'yours’ all of a sudden. His friend’s mom even sawed through the leather couch with a chainsaw just to get even with her former husband who had cheated on her.
“Hmm, you have a point but…uhm, how is the fact she’s called this our house when we were in the car fit into your theory?”
“Freudian slip?”
Mulder chuckled. “That would never happen to Scully.” Looking at Jackson’s puzzled face he added, “I’m sorry, pal, this must all be very confusing. This is our house, we bought it together and lived in it together. We lived like a married couple for many years and people mistook us as married many times but we never actually were married.”
“Lived. Not live. Like in we did that in the past but not anymore.”
Mulder sighed heavily before he answered. “Right, that’s over. Look, Jackson, our lives have always been…difficult and complicated. Due to our work. There was a time we thought we could leave it all behind us, at least Scully did. She wanted a restart so badly. She’d lost so much because of our work, most importantly you, and all she wanted was normalcy. A job, a home, a partner to share her life with. And I tried to give it to her, all of it, but I failed her. I couldn’t let go of my quest for the truth, and I ruined everything. So, one day the inevitable happened: she packed her things and left to save herself from being pulled underwater with me. She needed to get out of here to be able to breathe. But Scully wouldn’t be Scully if she left me to my fate. She still cared. She looked after me and helped me find my way again.”
“And what’s your status now? I mean, you take care of her dog, you know exactly what food to order for her, she stays over…”
“We’ve never stopped being friends. We’ve never stopped…caring deeply for each other. She just doesn’t live here anymore.”
Mulder felt a bit awkward talking to his son so openly about his romantic feelings for Scully, that they had never stopped loving each other, but the boy deserved to know, didn’t he?
“I just don’t want to impose.”
“Impose?”
Mulder didn’t understand. His face apparently showed his puzzlement because Jackson explained, “I don’t want to force the two of you together, you know. I don’t want you to think you have to do all this,” he was fidgeting with his hands in the air making clear he meant what was happening at this very moment in this house, “just because of me.”
“Just because of you?” Mulder parroted, disbelief threaded into his voice. “Are you crazy, Jackson? You are the best thing that ever happened to us. You’ve been our miracle. The time you were with us was the happiest time of our lives. It was much too short, especially for me, but neither of us ever wanted to miss it. We’ll figure this out. We’ll figure us out. You simply have to trust us. I know it’s not easy after what we’ve done but…”
Mulder stopped abruptly when Scully’s purposeful steps could be heard on the floorboard. She was making her way back to them and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know of Jackson’s concerns about their relationship and his staying with them.
“Your room is all set, Jackson,” she said entering the living room. “It’s upstairs on the right. I left a towel on the bed in case you’d like to take a shower. Is there anything else you need?” The delight in her eyes told Mulder how much she enjoyed doing this and the thought that their son felt uncomfortable about it clasped his heart with a cold fist.
“Thanks,” was all Jackson mumbled. He didn’t even look at Scully. She either didn’t notice or didn’t want to acknowledge it. She continued undeterred, “if you need anything, we’ll be down here. Just ask.”
He did ask, laying his finger right into the wound. “Where are you guys sleeping? Just in case I need something at night.”
The question was dangling between them for a moment, both Scully and Mulder taken off guard by the directness of it. Jackson held his breath, quite aware it was a delicate issue. He wondered who would take the initiative and answer, and, of course, how.
It was Mulder who was able to find his voice again. “The master bedroom is also upstairs, at the other side of the hallway,” he answered, avoiding the issue of who would be sleeping in there. He wasn’t sure what Scully’s sleeping arrangement would look like. They had shared a bed a few times recently - platonically and two times not so platonically - but she hadn’t moved back in. On her nights over she had always insisted they slept apart, Mulder in the master bedroom and her in the guest room. They were far from resuming their romantic relationship. He wasn’t even sure if they were in anything other than a relationship of friendly co-workers. Or co-working friends? Well, they were co-working best friends formerly lovers, if he was precise. To him, she was still his constant, his touchstone, that had never ceased to be the truth, but he wasn’t sure what she saw in him. Well, he could go around the status of their relationship over and over until he went mad, whatever it was, it was so them: complicated, in-flux, undefined.
Mulder caught Jackson’s questioning look and held it, hoping he would leave it at that. He didn’t want Scully to feel obliged to explain or even defend herself. They were all exhausted from what had happened in the factory, now wasn’t the time to discuss their long-term future. They needed sleep and when they were replenished, they could have a talk.
To Mulder’s immense relief, he watched how tiredness was overwhelming Jackson. His eyelids drooping, he yawned extensively. Mulder let the breath out he had been holding when Jackson finally acquiesced. “Okay, I think I should get some shut-eye.” With this, the boy turned around and headed for the stairs.
Mulder and Scully looked after him. Their eyes remained trained at the top of the stairs until their son disappeared from their view. They listened to a door open and close and eventually to the shower being turned on. “Goodnight, my son,” Scully whispered to herself, hiccuping a sob which awakened Mulder from his trance-like state. He looked at her and realized she was shaking. The last few weeks were finally taking their toll on her. Mulder knew how much it took to make Scully break down. What had happened since she had realized her seizure was caused by her lost son who tried to communicate with her definitely was enough to make her falter. She was inches away from shattering into a million pieces, like a crystal glass bursting to a high note sung by an opera singer.
Mulder turned toward her and pulled her into an embrace. The willingness with which she was giving in told him he had assessed the situation correctly. She melted into him, laying her head against his chest. She wasn’t wearing her heels anymore and their height difference was at its maximum expression. Mulder had always loved it when she was like that, bare of all the paraphernalia of Professional Scully. She allowed only a handful of people to see her without the makeup to hide her freckles and the sensual mole on her upper lip, the business suit to cover her feminine curves, and the heels to make her taller than she actually was. And he was lucky to be one of those few people.
They stayed like this, mute and still, for a long time. Eventually, Scully took a deep breath and pulled back, a clear sign she had regained her strength. But she didn’t let go of Mulder completely. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “How about a glass of red wine, Mulder? I think I’m too stirred up to be able to sleep although I’m totally drained. Do you have a nice bottle somewhere?”
“What about the one Skinner gave us when we signed the sales contract for this house?”
“You still have that bottle?”
“It’s a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, it needs to rest a long time. Wine of this quality gets better with age. Just like us,” he added with a smile. “I’ve waited for the right moment to open it and if this is not a good moment to have a first-class wine I don’t know what is. You make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll go and fetch it.”
He knew exactly where the bottle was, where he had put it all those years ago when Skinner had handed it to him with a smile on his face. Their boss had been as happy and confident as them that settling permanently into a house would be the beginning of a new life for them. It hadn’t come quite as they all had hoped. With Mulder sliding into a depression and Scully thriving as a doctor in her new job they had slowly grown apart. Funny that a relationship so unique as theirs had been susceptible to a development so cliché. But that had been then and now was now. Their son was sleeping peacefully upstairs, they were on the right track repairing their relationship, this was the perfect moment to open this bottle.
When he returned from the pantry where he had indeed found the 2008 Châteauneuf-du-Pape exactly where he thought it would be, Scully had already resumed her place on the couch next to Daggoo who was snoring slightly in his sleep. A corkscrew and two red wine glasses were waiting for them on the coffee table, most certainly placed on coasters. Scully hated stains on the table’s surface.
Mulder placed himself next to her and leaned his back against the backrest. He was holding the bottle in his hands and looked at the label. Skinner had written something on it which had faded over time and was hardly legible anymore. He pulled his new glasses out - progressives, no bifocals - and tried to decipher the words. He had never been good at reading Skinner’s scribble, Scully was so much better at it.
“Scully, can you read this?” he asked, passing the bottle to her.
She looked at the label and squinted. “I think so,” she said. She didn’t even need glasses.
“What does it say? Are you going to tell me?”
“It says, 'Always remember who your friends are. Skinner.’ That’s it.”
Mulder took the bottle back to open it. He carefully inserted the corkscrew, cautious not to damage the cork which could be brittle after such a long time. After he had pulled it out, he checked for a corky smell but it seemed fine. He poured some of the red liquid into their glasses, the rest into a decanter. The wine would need time to breathe to develop its full taste. He handed a glass to Scully, they clinked, then put the glasses to their lips.
Scully only hummed when the liquid was running down her throat, Mulder clicked his tongue. “Jeez, this is good,” he said.
“It sure is,” she agreed. “What he wrote on the label makes me think, Mulder.”
“Think what?”
“That Skinner has always been our friend. That we’ve been unfair to him probably, having thought he betrayed us. Remember when he came to the hospital after my seizure and you started a fight with him?”
“He’d acted weird and he did smell like smoke.”
“Yes, he did, but we should’ve given him credit instead of assuming he’d be working against us. Looking back at it now, I believe that he was indeed coming to us after a meeting with the Smoking Man, a meeting where he had probably been told about Spender’s deluded idea that he was Jackson’s biological father. Skinner tried to keep this information from us, Mulder. He tried to protect us from it. He has always been our friend, and we were too paranoid to see it.”
“We weren’t paranoid, Scully. The threat was real. I had just stopped a man from suffocating you by cutting his throat and then Skinner came stumbling in after having been unreachable for hours, smelling like smoke and wearing a face so explicitly blank…what were we supposed to make of it?”
“And still, we should’ve known that he would never switch sides. He’s an honest soul who’s covered our asses more than once.”
“That’s true enough, but when it comes to you, Scully, I will never risk trusting the wrong people.”
“Trust no one, huh?”
“That motto saved our lives a few times.”
Some of the occasions he was referring to came to Scully’s mind. She put the glass to her lips with a sigh and took another sip. The wine had breathed enough already to develop some of the rich, red-fruit aroma and herbaceous note for which it was famous. Scully hummed delightfully.
“This really is a good wine, Mulder. I’m glad you remembered you had this in your pantry. You’re not stocked as badly as I thought,” she teased him.
Under normal circumstances, Mulder would have taken her remark as the opening of one of their casual banters but the circumstances weren’t normal. His son was resting safely upstairs in the guest room, or rather the son he had always believed was his. He had heard things tonight that made him doubt his fatherhood.
“Is it really true, Scully?” he asked abruptly without any adequate introduction.
“Is what true, Mulder?”
“That I am his father?”
Scully took a sharp intake of breath. She set her glass aside, turned toward Mulder and looked him in the eye. She then took his glass out of his hand and placed it next to hers on the coffee table. Taking his hands in hers, feeling his slight tremor, she gave them a reassuring squeeze before she started speaking.
“Yes, you are his father. I’d been feeling it so strongly from the moment I was told that I was pregnant. You were missing, then gone, and for so many months I believed the baby growing inside me was to be my only connection to you. I knew it was yours.”
“But you ran multiple tests anyway.”
“You know me, I seek proof of what I want myself to take as fact. And I got myself proof. I am a thorough scientist, Mulder, my proof is one hundred percent reliable. You are Jackson’s father, the DNA doesn’t lie. If you want, and if Jackson is okay with it, we can do another paternity test.”
“No, I trust your scientific evaluation, Scully. I always have.”
They smiled at each other briefly before Scully’s expression changed. Mulder’s face had been the one marked by worry a moment ago, now it was hers. “Do you think he will stay with us?” she voiced her concern.
“I hope so.”
“We just got him back,” Scully whispered close to tears, “I don’t want to lose him again.”
“Me neither, but I guess him sleeping upstairs is a good sign. He trusts us. He protected me when he…erm, got rid of those Purlieu people coming after us.”
“You mean when he made their bodies explode?”
“Yeah, well, our son does have extraordinary abilities. Given all the weird stuff I’ve seen, this wins first prize but what I was getting at is that he made sure I wasn’t harmed. And today he also got us out of there. He wants us to able to be there for him.”
“I hope you’re right. If I could be his mother again…” Scully hiccuped.
“You have always been his mother, Scully. Maybe he isn’t aware of it, but I am.”
“Thank you, Mulder.”
They gazed at each other and Mulder’s heart was overflowing with compassion for Scully. How much had this woman had to endure? How come she was still sane and hadn’t gone completely mad after what life had burdened her with? He admired her so much for her strength.
“Jesus Christ, I so want to kiss you right now, Scully. May I?"
Anxiety over possible rejection was creeping up Mulder’s spine when a tear started running down her cheek but he had to finish what he had started. When she nodded, more tears spilling, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her as softly as he could. This wasn’t about passion but about companionship, about a life lived together, about an unwavering feeling of love for her.
"We will make this work, Scully. I am sure of it. You, me, and Jackson. We will make this…this family thing work. Maybe he will never call us mom and dad but somehow we will manage to be parents to him.”
Scully leaned into Mulder and put her head on his shoulder. She hummed silently and took another sip of wine.
“This is nice, Mulder. You and me together here on this couch, this wonderful wine, our son upstairs in the room I had always thought would have been his if things had been different.”
Mulder thought back to his earlier conversation with Jackson, how insecure the boy had been about their current relationship and how he fit in.
“Let’s give it try, Scully. Let’s give Jackson a stable structure, something which comes close to what he had with his adoptive parents. He still is a kid, he shouldn’t have to doubt where he belongs. I want him to feel he belongs to us. Move back in.”
His words echoed in the silence that followed. Mulder couldn’t see her reaction to his bold suggestion as Scully’s head was nestled against the spot where his shoulder met his neck. He already feared he had pushed too hard when he heard her whisper, “but there’s no extra room for me anymore.”
“Do we really need an extra room? The guest room has always been intended to be his, not yours. Our bed is too big for me alone, it never felt good sleeping in it on my own. I wish for nothing more than us being together again. Not only as co-workers but as partners. Life partners. We could make it legal even, maybe adopt him back if we can. We could be a family. Officially, for everyone to see. The Mulders. Or the Scullys, if you want. I don’t care. I only care about us, us three being together.”
Scully straightened and pushed herself back from Mulder. She looked at him with wide eyes. Putting her hand on his forehead, she stammered, “are…are you running a f-fever, Mulder?”
“I’m in my right mind, and I am serious.”
“Fox William Scully?” she offered, giving him her trademark arching eyebrow.
“Mr. Dana Scully,” he replied with a boyish grin, “sounds good to me.”
Scully brushed a tear off her cheek and laughed. “I’ll ask you again tomorrow when you’re down from your high; whatever caused it.”
Mulder left it at that. He knew there was no use arguing now. She probably needed time to let his suggestion sink in, or rather his proposal. He had really and truly proposed to her! How many years had he waited now to pop the question a second time? What an irony that again she didn’t believe he meant what he said, that he was under the influence of something clouding his judgment. She couldn’t be further from the truth. He was as sober and clear in his head as humanly possible and he had no problems at all asking her again tomorrow. He would ask her as often as necessary until she considered his proposal to be credible.
Scully nestled back into Mulder’s side and put her feet on the coffee table. He placed his long legs alongside hers, his thigh touching hers. When her head was back at its prior resting place on his shoulder he kissed her hair. This was exactly how it was supposed to be, he didn’t need more to be happy. Scully in his arms, hopefully, his wife-to-be, his son upstairs in the second bedroom, and the prospect of a family life. It almost ached physically to imagine a happy future was waiting for him around the corner. And then Scully said something that made his heart skip a beat.
“You should ask Skinner to be your best man.”
Now it was Mulder who dissolved their snuggling position. Sitting up straight with eyes wide as saucers and his heart in his mouth, he stammered, “what? Was…was that a yes, Scully? Do I have to check you for fever now?”
She laughed wholeheartedly, a sound which had always made his heart swell. “If you could only see your face, Mulder! There’s terror written all over it. You haven’t seen this coming, have you, Mr. Scully?”
“You always keep me guessing.” Mulder resumed his prior position next to her. He took her free hand which rested on her thigh and intertwined their fingers. “So? Are we engaged now?” he asked tentatively.
“I think so,” Scully answered.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.”
On the landing at the top of the stairs, there was another person thinking the same: Wow! They are doing this for me!
Jackson had been on his way down to get a glass of water when he had heard his name. He was touched by how anxious they were about him and how much they wanted to make this work. And suddenly they had been talking about marriage and Mulder had even suggested reinstating their parenthood by reversing the adoption. Jackson wasn’t sure what he thought about it, if it would feel like he betrayed the Van De Kamps if he became a Mulder. But no, wait a minute, if at all, he would become a Scully. Jackson Scully…it sounded unfamiliar but okay.
Another idea sneaked itself into his mind on its own accord. What if…?
No! That wasn’t really an option, was it?
Maybe, it was. Maybe it was exactly the right thing to mark this new phase of his life.
What if he took his old name? His birth name? If Mulder was willing to let go of his name to mark their family bond, he could do the same, William Scully didn’t sound so bad.
William Jackson Scully.
He let the name roll off his tongue in a whisper.
Fox, Dana and William Scully. The Scullys. It would be the three of them against the rest of the world. It was a soothing thought that made Jackson smile. He abandoned his plan to get some water and retreated to his room. He didn’t want to disturb them downstairs. If they were to kiss again, he didn’t want to be ogling.
Jackson had just left his observation post and was closing the door to the guest room behind him as Mulder was cupping Scully’s face and leaning in to kiss her. The boy had escaped his parents’ caresses for now but was doomed to witness them over and over in the time to come.
