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Would anyone be interested in a Strattland fanfic where, during high school, they have a chance encounter at a museum? :'0 Stratt is there for a school field trip, and she is having an existential crisis in the history exhibition. Meanwhile, Grace is there with his brothers and mom, who wanted to cheer up the boys after their dad's outburst (coltlandgentry side content ofc ofc)
•
Imagine Echo’s first night in the Bad Batch barracks and it’s like 2 am and he’s scrolling Grindr after updating his profile while super depressed and he get a random message and it’s from Fives, who’s death was greatly exaggerated and was adopted into the Coruscant Guard.
They both demand photos of the other to prove they’re real. Echo looks like a ghost and Fives is in Corrie armor with Fox passed out on the floor in the background with a medic checking his pulse.
Direct prequel to this post
Still thinking about Jett after seeing GOAT yesterday so enjoy this idea I cooked up in my brain
(Reader)'s chance encounter with Jett Fillmore
(light spoilers ahead, read after you see the movie)
It was a beautiful day in Vineland. (Y/N) gets up to go for a few hoops with pals from Whiskers diner for the day. Sadly, since The Cage is a metric lot away from (his/her/their) home, they decide to take the Subway. After braving the lines of the gates, (y/n) sits down at one of the benches to wait. Suddenly, the sound of cameras snapping can be heard. (Y/N) turns around to see a small paparazzi getting pictures of something just out of view. After a few minutes, a familiar voice can be heard saying "Ok, break it up, wouldn't wanna be late for a shoot". (Y/N) perks up at the sound. Sure enough, the crowd disperses and from it reveals ROARBALL LEGEND JETT FILLMORE!
What should (y/n) say? (He/she/they) Wouldn't wanna embarrass themselves in front of such a champ like Jett. Gotta make the first words count, right?
"Hey, kid" Jett suddenly speaks, turning to (y/n) ever so slightly. "You heading to the cage I bet?" (Y/n) Nods in a mix of approval and visible glee. "Big fan I'm guessing?"
To say (y/n) was a "big fan" was an understatement. (He/she/they) Go on to discuss all the thorns merch they got, the games they watched both on TV and in-person, and all the players (he/she/they) witnessed come and go from the team. Jett gives a slight giggle at the enthusiasm, saying "You're such a dork" in a light hearted tone.
The conversation again switches to Jett, as (y/n) asks her how it feels to be living as a now CLAW winner. She takes a minute to think about it before admitting "Ya know, to be honest, I never thought I'd get that far." Jett goes on to introspectively talk about all the missed opportunities, the times she let her paws out when she shouldn't have, and even...that choke.
"Honestly, I was thinking about retiring for a bit." Jett admitted "Not helping was everyone telling me I was 'old', 'washed', that I wasn't 'the goat'" (Y/n) butted in to remind Jett that it took one goat to teach another, as in the newest player Will Harris, who clearly took after Jett a bit. "Yeah, took a little while to get used to him, but after that, Will and I worked together well."
(y/n), a little cheekily, invited Jett to come over to the cage as a surprise for (his/her/their buddies). "Heh, I'm not feeling it today, kid" she answered. "Got a big promo tomorrow. The Thorns are getting a new jersey design. Maybe if you give me your address, I'll mail one for ya"
Seriously considering it, (y/n) begins to look for something to scribble their address on, when suddenly, the train announcer called out "Next stop: Vineland Cage!" (Y/n) Then hurriedly packed their things back up and waved goodbye to Jett as (he/she/they) got in the car.
"Hope to see ya again, kid. I always love meeting fans like you. Roots run deep!" Were the last words (y/n) heard from Jett as the doors shut. No matter how the rest of (y/n)'s day goes, there's no doubt Jett just made it even better.
"I'm always making new friends wherever I roam."
~ {𝔒_𝔄}
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📸 : © Obsidian_Asylum
McClelland Barclay (1891-1943) "Chance Encounter" (1922) Source
In this Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, you're a high school student with dreams of becoming a poet -- so why does a two-week exchange trip to Japan suddenly feel like a love story, thanks to Karasuno’s gentle ace, Asahi Azumane?
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE 🎮 interactive fanfic "Words We Share" by itsSparky 📖 Episode 1 of ?
chance encounter
an X-Files Fanfic
Read on AO3
Summary: "Six months after becoming fugitives from the US government, Mulder and Scully have a chance encounter with someone that is very important to them."
Word Count: 6,556
Tag List (let me know if you want taken off or added!): @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @mulderscully @perpetually-weirdening @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson
It was him.
There was no way to explain how he knew, but he did.
The little baby sitting in the puddle deep water at the end of the pool was William.
His hands, still chubby like they had been in his infancy, splashed excitedly, and Mulder could hear his squeals of delight over the sounds of the other children playing. An electric yellow swim shirt paired with a dinosaur-patterned bucket hat kept him shielded from the hot California sun, and he wore striped yellow and blue swimming trunks.
Mulder thought he'd never seen a swimsuit so small.
What were the odds that of all the places they could have traveled to, he was here?
They'd been on the road for 6 months, stopping at unremarkable motels and campgrounds all the way, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. It was a fluke they were even here at all.
Perhaps fate.
The hotel was certainly a step up from their usual accommodations, but Mulder had insisted. It was their anniversary, he said. Anniversary of what, Scully wasn't sure. The progression from coworkers to friends to lovers happened so gradually that it was hard to pin down a particularly important date for anything. But he wanted to celebrate, to find a brief reprieve from living in darkness, so they splurged a little on this modest, if slightly run-down, hotel by the ocean.
Where their son and his new family just happened to be vacationing.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this possibility. In those nights where Scully was extra quiet, eager to fall asleep at the end of a long day, of course he'd lay awake and think, what if.
What if we found him? What if we saw our son again? What would we do?
The idea was so far-fetched that he hardly gave it any real consideration. His thoughts ranged from “steal him back, take him with us” to “pretend you never saw him and flee town.”
The urge to do the latter was strong. It was not safe here. They'd given him up for this very reason, what would be the point if their being here got him injured or worse? Was it really worth the risk to William? To Scully?
His next thought was 'Should I tell her?' Should he tell Scully he'd seen him? Would she want to see him too, even if from a distance?
The loss of their son had broken her heart. Broken his too, but not in the same way. She had spent months with him, almost a year, only to be forced to give him away with little time to prepare.
He knew she felt the loss like a phantom limb. Even all these months later, she still awoke with his name on her lips, panic written on her face as she looked around for him. It drove a stake through his heart every time, yet part of him felt he deserved it after leaving her to deal with it herself.
He watched the boy.
He'd only come out here to enjoy the sun, sit on one of the loungers for an hour or so while Scully took a nap in their room. It was a much more comfortable bed than they've had in a long time, though that wasn't saying much.
He hadn't bargained on having his whole world tipped upside down in the short time they were apart.
As stressful as it was, life on the road lended itself to relatively simple decisions. Fast food or canned? Motel or campground? Will you drive, or should I?
This was different.
Should he tell Scully?
The thought of keeping this from her made him feel sick. He couldn't do that.
Then again, would it hurt more to know? Ignorance is bliss, they say.
Mulder had never believed that, though.
The Truth, with a capital T, was the one thing that connected him and Scully. Though their beliefs and methods differed, they valued the Truth above all else. That was what drew them together. That was what propelled them forward, even now.
She had to know. She had to know her son was here, even if knowing might hurt.
She could make the decision for herself, whether she wanted to see him or get as far away from here as possible. It might be the last decision she makes as a mother, who would he be to keep that from her?
She might never forgive him.
Swallowing back emotion, Mulder stood to his feet, trying not to draw attention to himself as he made his retreat. His sunglasses thankfully hid the redness of his eyes, a small mercy in this endlessly unfair life.
He stole one last glance back at William. There was a chance this was the last time he'd ever see his son, his baby boy. If this was it, he'd treasure this moment for the rest of his life.
A woman dropped down beside William, showing him how to cup the water in his hands and throw it.
'A quick learner,' Mulder thought, watching as he gleefully tossed small handfuls of water in the air, giggling as it rained back down on him.
Okay. He could do this.
Find Scully. Tell Scully. Find Scully.
He rushed into the moldy-smelling hallway of the hotel, not bothering to take the elevator up to their floor. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, finding himself out of breath by the time he reached the 4th floor.
He nodded politely at a passing family decked out in beach gear, not wanting to draw suspicion. Once they were gone, he gave a quick rhythmic knock on the door to let Scully know it was him, then slipped his key card into the slot to unlock it.
The room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight to block out the midday sun, and he could hear soft breaths coming from the lump on the bed.
His heart twisted involuntarily as it so often did when he looked at her.
“Scully,” he whispered, approaching the bed. “Honey, wake up.” He settled on the side of the bed, placing a gentle hand atop her shoulder and jostling her just so.
“Mm,” she hummed, curling into her pillow. A good nap, then. That was nice, at least.
He shook her again, saying her name a little louder. “Scully, you need to get up.”
This time her eyes opened, sensing the serious undertone to his words. He could tell she was waiting for bad news, for him to tell her they needed to leave again. Wanting to put her worries at ease, he tried to smile.
“What is it?” she asked, blinking at him in confusion.
“Uh—” he hadn't gotten this far in planning what to say. But she was waiting for him now, so he needed to say something quick. “Scully, I saw some people outside...”
“Government people?” she asked, sitting up suddenly, ready to start packing.
“No, not the government,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders soothingly. “Scully—it's William.”
He could see the moment his words hit her. She blinked, like she might think she was still dreaming, but she saw the truth in his eyes. Her expression shifted.
He wasn't sure what reaction he expected, but his first guess wouldn't have been anger.
“Did you know he would be here?” she asked, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. “Mulder, I told you not to look into it! Why—Why would you...”
“I didn't know,” he promised, begging the tears in his eyes to keep from falling. He clasped her hands in his, pulling them from their grip on the fabric of his shirt. “Scully, I swear I didn't know. I was just out at the pool, and—”
“You're sure it's him?”
His heart broke looking at her. Equal parts hope and dread, she didn't deserve this.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”
She let out a shuddering breath.
“What do you think about that coincidence, huh?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.
She shook her head.
“Mulder, we can't see him. It's not safe, it's not—”
“I know.” He didn't like interrupting her, but he didn't want her worrying unnecessarily about things she shouldn't. They had enough of that already, these days. If she didn’t think it was a good idea, he’d be okay with that. “We can leave, if you want. I just thought you should know.”
Her blue eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears.
“Is—Is he…?”
“He's beautiful, Scully,” Mulder answered her unspoken question. “He looks happy.”
She choked out a sob, and he immediately enveloped her in his arms, holding onto her tightly. She clutched at him like a life raft, and he ran his hand over her back in comforting circles, murmuring soft words into her ear.
“What do you want to do?” Mulder asked, knowing that time was ticking, and the little family might not stay out there much longer.
Scully sniffed.
“We could—we could go see him,” she said uncertainly, looking at him to decipher his thoughts on the matter. “From a distance.”
Mulder nodded, then stood, helping her to her feet.
“I'm with you,” he reminded her, grasping her hands tightly in his. “It'll be okay.”
With an arm slung around her shoulders, he led her out the door, this time opting to take the elevator down to the ground floor. Scully seemed nervous, almost frightened, and he didn't blame her. He tried to picture how he would feel if their positions were switched, and he couldn't imagine that he'd take it very well. Eventually, they reached the glass doors leading out to the outdoor pool, pausing for a moment.
“They can't see us,” Scully warned, looking anxious and ready to bolt, but she was glued to his side and scarcely able to move without his guidance. He nodded and took her hand, leading her out to a couple chairs in the corner, hopefully obscured enough by the shadow of the fence that they wouldn’t be seen. That bright neon shirt was still there, easy to spot, and Mulder felt tears rising to his throat again. This was the first time they had all three been in the same vicinity since those first few days when he was born.
He squeezed her hand, checking one last time to make sure she was okay. She searched his eyes, trusting him wholeheartedly, and he was certain he had never loved her more.
“Over there,” he said in a low whisper. “With the little hat on.”
Scully followed his line of sight, gasping when her eyes settled on the playful baby in the water.
What followed next was a sob, and he quickly lost his battle with the tears that stubbornly refused to go away. He wrapped his arms around Scully, offering her what solace he could, while his own chin wobbled miserably.
She alternated between sneaking glances at her son and crying into his shirt collar, muttering “Mulder,” desperately as he rocked her back and forth, his hand smoothing out her hair for her comfort as much as his own.
He couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing her like that... it made it hard to stay strong, but he needed to be. For her. He closed his eyes, pleading with the universe never to give her this kind of pain ever again.
When he opened them again, his stomach dropped to the floor.
The woman he'd seen earlier was looking at them, her eyebrows pinched in concern.
He cursed under his breath, his arms tightening around Scully. She was in no state to leave. The best they could do was avoid eye contact and keep to themselves.
But it looked like that wouldn't be enough.
The woman, William's adoptive mother, whispered something to the man she was with, nodding in their direction. His concerned face matched hers, and he nodded. With a sickening lurch, Mulder realized she was getting out of the water, wrapping herself in a towel and heading toward them.
It was too late. They'd been made.
“Scully,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. She only had a moment's warning before the woman was there, glancing down at them with a worried frown.
“Is she alright?” William's mother asked, empathy oozing from her.
Mulder hurried to compose himself, knowing Scully was a lost cause at this point. It would be on him to get them out of this.
“She's fine, sorry,” he managed to speak, wracking his brain for a believable excuse. Best to stick close to the truth. “We—We can't have children, so—” he nodded toward their son, hoping she could fill in the blanks.
Looking behind her at the boy in the water, her face eased into one of understanding.
“Oh, I know how that feels,” she said, smiling consolingly. “Our son over there is adopted. Every day we thank God for blessing us with him. He's our little miracle.”
Scully grips him tighter, barely restraining a mournful wail. His heart sinks, knowing this interaction isn't going well at all.
He presses a desperate kiss to her hair, wishing he'd never exposed her to this pain. Wishing they were alone in the confines of their hotel room or car so she could let it all out without arousing suspicion. Wishing this woman, as kind-hearted and friendly as she seemed to be, would leave them alone.
“Are you sure she's okay?” she asked Mulder, brows furrowing again.
His hand rubbed up and down Scully's shoulder, and he nodded. “She will be. This is—hard for her.”
“Okay,” the woman said, not sounding fully convinced. “Let me know if there's anything I can do. Like I said, I've been where she is.”
“Thank you,” Mulder choked out, eyes flitting about, looking for their escape.
Through the gate. Through the hotel. Down to the beach.
“Oh, sorry,” William's mother spoke, turning back instead of leaving. “I never introduced myself. My name is—”
“No!” Scully stopped her, looking suddenly panicked and alert.
The woman startled at the outburst, jumping back slightly.
“Mulder, we can't know,” Scully said, looking pleadingly at him. “We can't know anything, we can't!”
“It's okay,” he said softly, coaxing her back from the edges of a total breakdown. “It's okay.” He looked back up at William's mom, smiling an unconvincing smile. “I think we'd really better get going. It was nice talking to you,” he said as he helped Scully to her feet. “Come on, hon, back to our room.”
It was hard to move quickly with Scully desperately clinging to him, but it wasn't the first time they'd been in this position. Once they got back inside, he'd run her a nice warm bath and apologize over and over for everything he'd ever done to hurt her.
They just. Had to. Get. Through—
“Wait.”
He froze.
“You're—You're his parents, aren't you? The ones who gave him up?”
Ice water filled his veins. He could feel Scully shaking like a leaf under his arm.
“We really should be going—” he tried, refusing to turn back around.
Her voice was closer now. “You are. I—there's so many things I've wished I could ask you. At least let me thank you. Please.”
Against his better judgement, he risked a glance back.
“Mulder, we have to go,” Scully begged, now standing on her own and pulling him by the hand. His feet were rooted to the ground, unable to take a single step forward or back.
“Just wait a minute, Scully,” he said, his brain running a mile a minute to calculate the amount of danger each potential course of action held.
He met the woman's eyes, serious.
“Look, this is not easy for her. For us. Our situation right now is—” his eyes scanned around for anything out of place, “We—We really shouldn't be talking to you.”
The woman stepped closer still, a pleading expression on her face.
“It was a closed adoption, I know. But—”
“I'm sorry. We can't.”
Scully looked exhausted, frightened, and sick all at once. Every second they stood there chipped away at her, the anxiety sinking deeper and deeper into her skin.
“You're right about one thing,” Mulder conceded, glancing over at his son and drinking in his unconcerned, innocent features.
The next words nearly choked him with sorrow.
“He is a miracle.”
They were meant to be parting words, a reminder to this woman to never take what she has for granted, but before he could move, a hand landed on his forearm, effectively stopping him.
“We'll let you see him,” the woman offered desperately, near tears herself. “Please. Just a few moments.”
And with that on the table, Mulder was torn.
On the one hand, this woman had offered them something invaluable: a chance to say goodbye, something they hadn't been able to do properly the first time.
On the other hand, it would be selfish. To put their son and his new family in danger simply because they got caught in a moment of weakness... it was unfathomable. He couldn't be responsible for more suffering. He didn't think he could bear it.
“Please?” the woman said again, squeezing his arm.
He had a decision to make. Glancing once more at Scully's crumpled face, he caught sight of the slightest hint of hope. A barely-there gleam that he'd tear down earth and heaven for the chance to brighten.
His decision was made for him.
Cursing his lack of willpower, he turned suddenly to meet the woman's eyes.
“Not here,” he whispered sternly, pointing in her direction. “Give us half an hour, then come to room 409.”
“409,” the woman repeated, nodding. “We will.”
Mulder hardened his jaw, giving one final nod before collecting Scully and hurrying off into the building without another glance back.
“This is dangerous, Mulder,” Scully said worriedly as they passed through the hall, though he knew deep down she was relieved that she might get to see her son again. He only hoped that this risk would be worth it, that they'd be able to find some semblance of peace here and leave feeling less like a part of them was missing when all this was over.
As soon as they entered their room, Scully broke down.
“Oh my god, Mulder,” she gasped, crouching low to the ground and covering her face with her hands.
He immediately dropped to his knees to help her up, ushering her over to their bed.
“Did you see him? He's gotten so big.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mix of happy and sad, and though he'd known Scully and her nonverbal cues for so long, he still wasn't quite sure what she needed right now.
“Yeah, I saw him, Scully,” he answered, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently.
“Do you think they'll really come?” she asked, hopeful, but hesitant.
“We need to be prepared in case they don't,” he answered realistically, thinking of an entire squad of police cars surrounding the hotel with their flashing lights and sirens. “I can pack up the toiletries, you got the suitcase?”
She nodded, grateful to have something physical to do.
Mulder checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes. If they didn't come in twenty-five minutes, it was time to get out of dodge.
“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “I love you, Scully.”
“I love you too,” she answered, breathing deeply to calm herself. Checking one last time to make sure she was okay, he nodded and released her, each to their own assignments to ensure they were ready to make a quick escape if need be.
As the minutes passed, they became restless. They watched the clock, counting down the seconds until they should have arrived.
Their cutoff time came and went. Mulder was about to call it and give the signal to run, already gathering bags and suitcases, but the subtle knock on their door stopped him in his tracks. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing for Scully to stay quiet while he checked the peep hole.
The sight before him caused his shoulders to slump in relief.
“It's them?” Scully asked hopefully, reading his body language.
He gave a cautious smile back, then unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.
There they were, William’s adoptive parents.
And William.
It nearly took his breath away.
This close. They were this close to him, after thinking they’d never see him again. He felt like a dehydrated man in a desert stumbling upon an oasis when he was sure he was going to die.
“Hi,” the woman said, looking more uncertain now that they weren’t out in the open. Her husband looked similarly guarded, but they were here, that was all that mattered.
“Uh, come in,” Mulder said, finding his voice.
He stepped aside to allow them entrance, and Scully immediately stood from her seat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in front of her.
“I promise we’re not here to take him,” he assured them, closing the door behind them. “As much as we wish we could.”
Once the door was secure, he went to stand by Scully, placing a hand on her back.
“We were just passing through, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sitting there in the pool.”
The woman nodded, still a little tense, but wanting to believe him.
“Small world,” her husband said, standing protectively next to his wife and child.
Mulder nodded.
“Look, there’s not much information we can give you. For his safety and yours, this is the way it had to be.”
“I always wondered where he came from,” the woman said. “I thought maybe a teen mom, or someone who just couldn't take care of him, but, you—”
“He was always wanted,” Scully spoke, finally able to speak for herself. Her voice came out strained, gasping for air between words. “I prayed for him for so long.”
Mulder's hand found hers, giving it a squeeze to lend her some of his strength.
“He was our miracle.”
The woman looked down, saddened by this news.
“But you were right,” Scully continued, steadying her voice. “We couldn't take care of him. Our life—it isn't stable enough for a child right now. It might never be again. So, I gave him up.”
“Didn't you have a family member who could have taken him? A friend?” the man asked. “Why a closed adoption?”
Scully shook her head, looking down at her feet. How she had wished she could have sent William to live with Bill and Tara, maybe even Charlie. But it wouldn’t have been enough. It would have only endangered more people she cared about.
“That's something we can't disclose,” Mulder answered for her. “But someday, when he asks, I want him to know...” He breathed, summoning the strength to form the words. “I want him to know that we loved him... so much.” With each breath he took, tears filled his eyes, clogging his throat until he wasn't able to speak anymore.
They would always love him, for as long as they lived. Giving him up wasn't going to change that.
“Well,” William's new mom said through tear filled eyes. “I can't tell you how much it means to us to have him.” Scully bowed her head, nodding along with a steady stream of tears. “I promise to take good care of him. He'll be safe and happy with us.”
“Thank you,” Scully whispered, unable to look the man and woman in the eyes.
“We've been worried about him,” Mulder admitted, “hoping he was alright...” He checked in with Scully, reading her like he was so good at doing, before deciding it was safe to speak for them both. “I think, seeing that he is... is a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.”
Scully gave a nod in agreement, looking up at Mulder with something of a promise. A promise that they would be okay, eventually.
“I can't imagine what you must have gone through,” the woman said. “But we are so thankful. He—I don't suppose you want to know his name?”
“No,” Scully said quickly. “I—we can't. I couldn't handle the temptation.”
The temptation to track him down, just for the chance to see him again. That was a dream that could never be.
“What did you call him?” the woman asked, and Mulder squeezed Scully's hand again, letting her know it was okay. It was a common enough name, there couldn’t be any harm in telling her the truth.
“William,” she answered. “His name was William.”
To hear it spoken aloud after all this time was a relief. It had been almost taboo the past six months, too painful a word to be uttered. But now, there was something freeing about letting his name hang in the air.
Letting go, Mulder realized. They had to let him go.
“Well...” the woman began again, smiling at them reassuringly. “William is such a bright and curious child. He loves building towers out of blocks and throwing things at it to knock it down. He—He has this stuffed fox he takes everywhere. They're practically inseparable. His first word was 'mama'. He likes watching baseball and hockey with his dad. He—He's everything we could have hoped for, and more. So, thank you. Thank you for making such a beautiful child for us to love.” Her eyes shone with happiness, the kind which Scully wondered if she’d ever felt. “I knew you had to be remarkable people, because he's a remarkable child.”
“And now we know where he gets those lips and that hair from,” the father added, lightening the mood as much as possible, under the circumstances. “He's covered in sunscreen, must be your genes,” he said, nodding at Scully with a smile. And wonder of wonders, she laughed, a sudden, unexpected thing, and leaned into Mulder's side.
“We should let you go,” Mulder said after a moment, hating that it had to be done. “We'll need to be heading out soon.”
“To where?”
“We can't tell you that.”
Will's adoptive father's eyes met those of his biological one, and a look of understanding passed between them.
Adjusting her hold on William, the woman spoke, glancing between them as she did.
“I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you a moment with him.”
Scully's head snapped to attention.
“You've already sacrificed so much,” she continued, “And I trust you. You're doing what's best for—for William. I know you have his best interests at heart.”
Mulder wished, wished, wished he could honestly say it was in William's best interests to be with him and Scully... but it wasn't. The truth of their reality was such that it could never be. Not through any fault of their own as parents—but because of external forces working against them, desperate to tear them apart and leave them with nothing.
But they had failed.
Because what they had was more than nothing. They had each other. And though they would have to live with the knowledge that a part of them was missing, maybe after today they would be able to make peace with what they do have. To live life to the fullest given the circumstances they've been forced to survive in.
In truth, he hadn't felt this hopeful about the future since the moment Scully first placed his son in his arms. There was still a mountain of hardships to surmount, but it didn't seem quite as impossible as before. And it was all thanks to a chance encounter with their son, at the precise moment they needed him most.
“We'll leave you be,” Will's mother spoke, checking with her husband to make sure he agreed. “If you need us, we'll be downstairs having some coffee.”
Scully's brows slanted in worry. “You don't have to go, it's okay,” she said, wanting to stop them.
“You deserve some time alone,” the woman said kindly, shaking her head. “I can see how much you need it, dear.”
Scully's chin wobbled, dangerously close to another round of tears.
And then she was coming toward them, William perched on her hip. She deposited him right into Scully's disbelieving arms, and Mulder immediately felt his throat close, the sight one he'd seen almost every night in the most heart wrenching of his dreams.
This was what he'd hoped to come home to after his time in the desert. This was what kept him sane between bouts of torture in a prison cell. To see it now was equal parts fulfilling and painful.
“I can give you something, a guarantee we won't run off with him,” he choked out, working to free his wrist from his moderately expensive watch. William's dad reached a hand out and stopped him.
“We trust you,” he said with a sad smile. “We'll be back in an hour. Please, take all the time you need.”
And with that, they left the room.
As soon as they were gone, Scully's head dropped to rest against the strawberry blond locks of their son, and she let out a sob.
“William,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his head. He seemed unfazed, and part of Mulder wondered if he still remembered her. If deep down, he knew this was the woman who had once fed him from her own body, sung him to sleep in an off-tune melody, soothed him when he had nightmares...
It wasn't outside the realm of possibility.
The same couldn't be said for him, however.
“I can't believe this, Mulder,” Scully cried, her tears falling into his downy-soft hair. Mulder led her back to the bed, sitting beside her with their son on her lap. “Did you hear what they said? He's so much like you, watching sports on TV, knocking his blocks down... He'll be throwing pencils at the ceiling in no time.”
That brought a small smile to his face, and he leaned to his right to press a kiss to Scully's forehead, his hand falling into place on their son's back.
William leaned away, taking in the new faces with a curious tilt to his head.
“Hey, bud,” Mulder said, offering him a finger to hold. For all the time he'd spent thinking of what he'd say to his kid if given the chance, he was coming up short now that he was face-to-face with the reality. “I missed you so much,” he managed to say, “And look how much you've grown!”
William reached out, holding his hands up in front of him, and Mulder's heart leapt. Glancing at Scully for permission, he slid his hands under his arms, lifting him to his chest and nuzzling him close.
“Oh, Scully,” he said, beginning to cry again, feeling the weight of William on his chest, real and tangible. “Sometimes I thought it was all a dream. But we have a son.”
It was hard to think of him out in the world, when he was hardly more than an idea. But now—he had face to put to the name, a personality to remember. He had a son.
She nodded, watching them with a watery smile. He pulled back just to look at him again, to memorize those chubby cheeks and the way he smelled. The precise shape of his eyes, their color, still the same as his mother's.
“I'm so glad we stayed here, Mulder,” Scully whispered. “To think I tried to talk you out of it...”
“Fate was working its magic, Scully,” he said, cutting her off. “This was meant to be.”
For the next hour, they played on the floor together, using Mulder's keys as a toy to hold William's attention. He was walking now, and took turns toddling between them, excitedly holding the TV remote in one hand and squealing when they praised him for successfully making it without tripping or falling.
For a while, they could almost forget this wasn't real. That they weren’t on borrowed time, already risking things they shouldn't be for this blissful moment of being a family.
Mulder got to see Scully as a mother. She saw him as a father. Finally, they had the chance to step into those roles, feeling fulfilled in ways they never could have imagined. It went far beyond any truth that once lay hidden in the X-Files. Nothing in that office of theirs could have given them purpose like this. Only each other, and the life that was formed out of the love that was sparked right there in the basement of the Hoover building so many years ago.
Mulder had always wondered how it would sound to hear the words “da da da” come from a child's mouth, and to know they meant him. Though his babbling wasn't intentional, merely a repetition of the same syllables “da” and “ma” over and over again, he was soaking it in. Committing it to memory. Praying—because only something like this could drive a man like him to prayer—that his son would think about him. Would think about his mother. That he'd grow to know and understand and appreciate the heartache they suffered at giving him away.
That maybe he'd love them too, despite never knowing them.
And maybe.
Maybe.
One day, they'd see each other again.
It was getting late. Scully could tell it was past William's bedtime. She laid him on their bed, and laid down beside him on her stomach, content just to look at him and be near him for however much time they had left.
Mulder joined her on the other side, resting a hand on top of William's gently rising and falling belly.
“I love him more than I ever knew was possible,” he whispered, and noticed as Scully wiped away a tear.
“It hurts, knowing we have to say goodbye.”
Mulder nodded, reaching a hand over William to rub circles on Scully's back.
“But not as much as it hurt before.”
Mulder remembered how Scully screamed, when he first found her in that dirty, abandoned house in Georgia.
“Don't take my baby. Please don't take my baby.”
It was different now.
This time, it was on their own terms. Their curiosities were satisfied, the things they always would have wondered about.
Who he resembled more. What his voice sounded like. His smile and his laugh when he was happy. The way he scrunched his face when he wasn't.
But above all else: would he be okay?
And now that they knew without a doubt that he was? They could let him go.
As much as any parent could let go of a piece of their soul, their own flesh and blood.
He would always be a part of them. They would always wish things could have gone differently. But at least now, Mulder had had a chance to say goodbye. At least Scully wasn't being forced to leave him with little warning, worrying that she was abandoning him to an unknown fate.
A blanket of peace fell over this humble, outdated hotel room. And for the last few minutes they would spend as parents together, Mulder and Scully counted themselves lucky. For this time was a gift, far more than they could have ever hoped to receive.
The same knock from earlier sounded, and a heavy feeling settled in Mulder's chest. He dragged himself away from the bed, while Scully lifted the sleeping William into her arms and held him close.
“How did he do?” their son's mother asked, looking perfectly at ease in a way that calmed and reassured him.
“Great,” Mulder answered. “He—He's perfect.”
The time had come. Scully knew it too. They'd already stayed longer than they should have. He knew there was a long night of driving through pitch darkness ahead of them, and he really, really didn't want to go.
But he had to do what was right for his son. That was all he ever wanted to do, as a father. He just didn't want to be the one to break Scully's heart all over again.
“I guess this is it,” Scully said, sounding calmer than he would have expected. He knew her, though, and he could see the emotions brewing beneath the surface.
It would be a tearful night for both of them.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said to William's new mom, stepping fatefully toward her. But before she could pass him over, she paused, looking down at him for the last time in her own arms. “William?” she spoke, her voice strained. “Mommy loves you.”
“Daddy loves you too, baby boy,” Mulder said, never having referred to himself as such before, but wanting to know how it felt.
He cupped the sleeping child's head, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then another, not able to convince himself that each would be the last.
“I'm so sorry, William. Be good for your mom and dad, okay?”
Scully leaned against him, her strength beginning to wane.
“Goodbye,” she said, kissing him desperately all over, playing with his socked foot and each of his tiny fingers. “I want to believe I will see you again someday.”
As they passed him over, together this time, William's new parents smiled tearfully.
“If—If he suddenly gains an interest in Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster,” Mulder began in a worried, cautionary tone, “just buy him some picture books. He'll be okay.”
Though it easily could have been a joke, no one laughed. In fact, the man and woman nodded, taking his advice to heart. He felt better knowing their son would be accepted, no matter who he grew up to be. The child of the FBI's most unwanted was sure to be a bit of a loner.
“And tell him he'll grow into his nose. Sort of,” he added, this time eliciting a small smile from Scully.
“I promise, we'll tell him every day how loved he is,” the woman vowed. “I'm glad we met you.”
“I'd call it a God-given miracle,” the man said, and he reached out a hand to Mulder to shake. “Stay safe,” he said, then catching sight of Scully's necklace. “We'll be praying for you.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
Mulder's arms suddenly felt empty. He could see Scully felt the same, wrapping hers around her own torso just for something to hold. He enveloped her in an embrace, holding tight to keep both her and himself from chasing after them.
“Bye,” the woman said over her shoulder, her worried eyes unwilling to turn away from the sad couple they'd met. She gave a small, consoling smile, and lifted William's pudgy hand to wave goodbye.
Mulder and Scully waved half-heartedly in return, smiling as genuinely as they could, and watched as they disappeared through the door.
Once they were gone, Scully turned into Mulder's chest and held tight. His cheek rested on top of her head, and they swayed, silent but for the sound of the ocean nearby.
“We're gonna be okay,” Scully said at last. “Mulder—”
She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity and love.
“We're gonna be okay.”
