Headers and Notes in Part 1

Part 5 of 12


Georgetown University Medical Center
Georgetown, D.C.
March 7, 2001
7:20 pm


Scully was scared.  

It had been almost 35 hours since Mulder's doctor had withdrawn the 
drugs that kept him in his coma, and he had not yet awakened.  

Once the CAT scan, performed first thing the previous day, had 
confirmed that the brain abnormalities were gone, it had been decided 
to immediately stop the sedation.  Logically, she knew it would take 
some time to be purged or eliminated from his system.

But not this long.

She could recall the relief that had washed through her when the 
intubation tube had been removed and he had taken that first breath on 
his own, confirming that the paralytic agent no longer had effect.  She 
could also recall how she had foolishly thought he would wake up not 
long after that moment.

From her perch beside his bed, she once more brought her eyes to his 
face, staring desperately.  Hoping to see a flicker of his eyelids that 
would indicate he was beginning to awake, or even a twitch or a frown.  
There was nothing.  A shuddering sigh passed through her lips, and she 
brought her hand up to cover her mouth, ready to stifle the sobs that 
were hard on the heels of the sigh.

A hand, warm and heavy, landed on her shoulder, and she jumped, a gasp 
escaping instead.  She had completely forgotten Skinner...Walter...was 
there.  He had arrived not too long ago, at her mother's instigation, 
she knew.  Her mother had been here all day with her, alternately 
pleading with her to leave, and ordering her to do so.  

Scully had ignored her.  She was not going to leave.

So far, Walter had said little beyond his initial greeting upon 
arrival.  He had stayed silent in one corner of the room, although she 
had felt his eyes on her at the beginning, until she had pushed his 
presence from her mind, and knew he was going to speak now.  Most 
likely to ask her to go home, telling her it wasn't good for her or the 
baby to stay here like this.

She knew that, goddammit.  

Would not let herself forget that, ever.  It was just right now, she 
had to worry about Mulder as much as the baby or herself, if not more.  
She was the reason he was in the coma.  How could she leave?  And 
besides, she was making sure she stretched her legs every hour, and 
that she ate.  She had even managed a brief nap after lunch, when 
Frohike had come by.

"Dana?  I think it's time you went home.  You've been here all day." 
Walter said, squeezing her shoulder slightly.

There it was.

Scully didn't bother correcting him.  She had actually been there a lot 
longer than all day.  She had never left the night before, despite what 
her mother thought.  Of course she had walked out to her car with her 
mother when visiting hours were over, coat in hand.  She had just 
waited until her mother had driven out of the parking lot, getting out 
of her own car and retrieving the overnight bag from the trunk, and 
heading back inside.

She did not bristle at his concern either.  It was well intentioned and 
sincere, not to mention fully expected.  "I can't," she answered 
softly, brokenly, without looking at him, now at her side.

"Why..." he bit off whatever he had started to say, the word sharp and 
loud in the room, and then exhaled harshly.  His fingers tightened 
momentarily on her shoulder, almost painfully.  "You can't stay here 
all the time," he said next.

"I have to," she responded, and tensed her shoulders to escape his 
grasp.  He took the hint, his hand sliding away.  Out of the corner of 
her eye she saw him clench it into a fist, and heard him sigh.

He moved around her chair, wedging his body up against Mulder's bed in 
the little space left, so close was she to the bed.  This meant he 
stood between it and her, blocking her view of the man lying there.

She muttered a curse, not at him, but in his general direction, and 
hoisted herself from the chair.  Her anger turned what would have been 
a grunt of effort to a low growl instead.

He took the opportunity to grasp her arms, just above the elbows, and 
she saw him bend his knees slightly; knowing it was in an effort to try 
and look into her face. She kept her head down, refusing to give an 
inch. "Dana, please, you've got to take it easy.  I know you're 
concerned, but sitting here putting yourself and that baby at risk 
isn't going to help him."

This brought her head up, her eyes now spitting fire instead of 
reflecting her misery.  "I am not putting this baby at risk," she 
hissed.  "I would never do that!"  She remembered with a flash of shame 
that she had come close to doing exactly that a few times before, but 
shook the thought off.  "I wouldn't," she repeated more softly.  "I'm 
eating, I'm walking, and I'm resting.  The baby, and I, are fine."  

"For how long, Dana?" he persisted.  One hand left her arm to touch her 
chin, taking more liberties than he ever had, tilting it up to look 
into her eyes.

The dam that had been holding by a delicate thread all day finally 
broke.  

Tears welled, hot and furious, and spilled from her eyes to roll down 
her cheeks.  Scully ducked her head down again, despite the fingers 
still at her chin, and then found herself pulled gently into an 
embrace.  She resisted for a moment, body stiffening in reaction, 
before relaxing into him with a sob, her arms coming up to wrap around 
his waist.

"Shhhhh..." she heard from somewhere above, her head buried in his 
chest.  One of his hands was smoothing up and down her back in soothing 
strokes, the other around her shoulders, his hand cupping her skull.

"I'm so scared," she wailed softly, for once not ashamed of her tears, 
for breaking down in front of him.  "What if he doesn't wake up, 
Walter?"

He was silent for long moments, now rocking her from side to side 
gently.  "Dana, we have to believe he will get better."

She really wanted to believe that.  It was just taking longer that she 
had thought, and that scared the hell out of her.  Medically there was 
no reason why he still remained in the coma.  And she could not help 
thinking she should not have allowed it, not have demanded it be done.

When she did not reply, only nodded against him, he said, "Is there 
nothing else the doctor can do?"

Scully heard again in her head Mulder's doctor suggesting they try 
Narcan, a narcotic agent that blocked receptor sites where drugs 
attached themselves and helped to lessen their effects.  And heard 
herself tell him no, because she had been worried about him coming out 
of the coma too early.  Like he had after he had been found in the 
woods of Oregon.

She said slowly, thinking it out, "There is a drug, Narcan, that is 
sometimes used to reverse the sedative effects of certain drugs.  It 
could work."

She pulled away from him, feeling his hands slide away from her hair 
and back, and looked at her watch.  "It's too late now though.  I'll 
have the doctor paged first thing in the morning to administer the 
Narcan."  She brought her hand to her face to wipe at the remnants of 
her tears, and Walter reached in his pocket and handed her a neatly 
folded white handkerchief.  She thanked him and used it to dry her eyes 
and face, holding the cloth in her fist when she was done.

Walter had stepped back, turning from her to study Mulder lying on the 
bed, possibly giving her a modicum of privacy.  "It's going to work, 
Dana," he said.  "He's going to wake up."

"I hope so," she whispered, and felt the weariness dragging at her body 
and soul.  She stepped back and lowered herself carefully into her 
chair again, sighing with relief when she felt the firm surface of the 
cushion against her back.  Her head lolled on her neck before finally 
slipping to one side, her body slumping a little and her eyes 
fluttering shut.

"You're planning on staying all night, aren't you?" Walter asked 
suddenly.  She opened her eyes and looked up to see that he appeared to 
be studying her.  He added, "You stayed last night, didn't you?"

Scully blinked, holding his gaze, neither confirming nor denying his 
accusations.

He nodded to himself, as if he had found his answer.  "Fine. If you're 
staying tonight then you will lie down and get some sleep now."  He 
held up one finger, forestalling her protest.  "I'll stay while you 
sleep.  I'm going to get them to bring a stretcher in here for you to 
lie down on.  It couldn't have been too restful in that chair."  He 
indicated the one she sat in with a nod of his chin.

It had been horrible, actually, but she said nothing, merely nodded, 
and watched him leave the room to no doubt demand a stretcher.  After 
the door closed behind him, she let her eyes close again too.  She was 
so tired.

***


Georgetown University Medical Center
Georgetown, D.C.
March 8, 2001
3:20 am


Dark.  Cold.  Scared.

She ran down endless hallways, her every breath burning her lungs, the 
bulge of her belly making each step a trial, and sending pain flaring 
through her lower back.  It was difficult to see in the darkness, she 
could find nothing that would help her in her quest.

Mulder was here, somewhere.  She just had to keep looking.  She had to 
find him.

A sound echoed all around her, and she slowed slightly, head swiveling 
frantically from side to side.  She could not make out what it was, or 
tell from which direction it had come.  Taking a deep breath, she 
resumed her quick pace.

The sound came again, and she stumbled to a halt, nearly falling, as 
this time she recognized it.

It was Mulder, screaming her name.

Scully's eyes popped open, and she sat up abruptly, one hand coming up 
to cover her mouth and conceal the gasping breaths that were escaping.  
Her other hand automatically went to her belly, a reassuring 
confirmation that the baby was still there, before sliding down and 
around to her back, to the phantom ache left over from her nightmare.

As she rubbed at the spot, her heart began to slow, and she became 
aware of other discomforts.  The cot she sat on, brought by an orderly 
instead of a stretcher after Skinner had gone to request one, was not 
the most ideal of sleeping locations.  The mattress was thin and lumpy, 
and it squeaked every time she moved.

Mulder's hospital room was dark, though not as dark as the hallways in 
her dream, lit only by a small light over his bed that did not 
illuminate the entire room.  It did however, cast large shadows on the 
walls, shadows that took on ominous shapes.

She shivered suddenly and violently, the chill from the nightmare 
lingering still, and brought her hands up to cross over her chest and 
rub her arms in an effort to warm herself.  Her skin was clammy; she 
could feel that even through the material of her long-sleeved jersey, 
one of Mulder's, and her teeth had started to chatter.

It was unlikely she would be getting any more sleep, so she shifted as 
quietly as possible, swinging her sock-clad feet off the cot and 
finding the ground, and stood.  She had seen Walter sprawled rather 
uncomfortably on the chair she normally occupied, seemingly asleep, and 
did not want to wake him.  He would undoubtedly ask what had awakened 
her, and she did not want to discuss her dreams at all.  

Her legs were shaky, and constant shivers were now running through her 
body, so she grabbed the blanket from the cot and wrapped it around her 
shoulders, clutching it closed at her breasts.  She didn't bother with 
her shoes, unable to see them in the dark anyway, and padded over to 
Mulder's bedside.

Whether it had been the faint sound as the trailing ends of the blanket 
dragged across the floor, or that Skinner still had the instincts 
learned long ago in Vietnam, he was disturbed.  She heard a snuffling, 
snoring sound, followed by the creak of his chair, and turned her head 
from Mulder's supine form to see Walter sitting up, staring at her.

They held each other's eyes for a long moment, until he looked away, 
rising from his chair.  With quick movements he slid into his suit 
jacket and adjusted the tie he still wore, and then he made a gesture 
with his thumb at the door, which she took to indicate he was going for 
a walk, and left the room.

Once the door closed, Scully moved to grab the other chair in the room, 
and dragged it next to the bed up by his head, the loud noise it made 
scraping across the floor causing her to cringe.  Her blanket had 
slipped down her arms in the process, and once she got the chair in 
place and sat down, she shifted it back over her shoulders, huddling 
into its meager warmth, clutching it to her breasts once more.

If she stretched just right, she could rest her hand on his chest 
without causing undue strain on her back, or pushing her belly into the 
side of the bed.  It looked so pale against the dark blue of his 
hospital gown, and she watched it lift with each of his inhalations - 
slow and steady - and fall as he exhaled, for long minutes.

Sighing, she let her eyes travel up to his face, studying the 
unfamiliarity of well-known features in this unnatural slumber.  He did 
not look relaxed to her, as he usually did when asleep.  He just was 
not her Mulder.  But he was in there, she knew.  She only wished she 
knew how to make him to come out again. 

"Oh, Mulder," she whispered softly, sadly.  "You have to wake up for 
me.  I...I need you to."  She folded her free arm on the mattress, 
close to his arm lying at his side, and rested her head on it, turned 
so that she could still look at his face.

Her other hand remained on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body 
through the thin cotton gown.  "There are so many things I need to tell 
you," she continued.  "Things you might have a hard time accepting, 
just as I did."  Thinking of the baby in her womb, who was right at 
that moment lazily somersaulting, she smiled a little.  "Good things, 
Mulder."  At the sudden jab to her ribs, she amended with a slightly 
strangled voice, "Very good things."  

Wincing, she removed her hand from Mulder's chest, shifting slightly in 
her chair, and rubbed the sorely abused spot.  The baby kicked again, 
and she lifted her head from her arm and straightened up.  "Hey little 
one, take it easy in there," she whispered, looking down at her belly.
"Mommy's trying to talk to your daddy."

A sudden deep inhalation from Mulder had her head snapping up, eyes 
going first to his chest, to see his lungs expanded to their utmost and 
then sink as he exhaled, before flicking to his face.

She swore she saw his cheek twitch.

"Mulder?" she tried to say, but with her mouth now gone dry as dust, 
the words were too faint.  Her pulse thundered in her ears as she 
reached for and found his hand, grasping it tightly.  She cleared her 
throat and tried again. "Mulder, can you hear me?"

Oh, God.  That was definitely movement behind his eyelids.  

She struggled to her feet, the chair scraping back noisily, and was 
torn between grabbing the call bell to summon a nurse or anyone to 
witness this miracle with her, and wanting to touch him and talk to 
him.  Touching him won out.

One hand went to cup his face, thumb stroking softly, while the other 
retained its grip on his hand, squeezing tightly.  "Mulder? It's me.  
Come on, open those eyes.  Please."

She watched with stunned, hopeful eyes as his lips pursed and then 
opened on a tiny gasping inhalation.  "That's it, Mulder.  You can do 
it. Come on back to me."

More fluttering of his eyelids, followed by a twitch of his fingers 
within her hand.  A moment later his eyes opened for a millisecond, 
then closed again.

Scully leaned in as close to him as she could get, her mouth beside his 
ear.  "Mulder, open your eyes again.  I know you can do it."  Her voice 
broke as tears sprang to her eyes.  "I need to see you open your eyes, 
Mulder, please."

His head moved infinitesimally on his pillow, his lips now making a 
smacking noise as he opened and closed his mouth, and then his eyes 
drifted open again, looking at her.  The hazel orbs were dulled, and 
sleepy-looking, but she saw recognition in them.

"Mulder?"

His lips parted and moved, a soundless gasp of her name.  Scully?

Relief swelled through her in enormous waves.  He had said 'Scully', 
not 'Day-na'.  It was Mulder.

"Yes, Mulder, it's me," she whispered, one fat tear welling and then 
rolling slowly down her cheek to drop off and splatter on their clasped 
hands, which she had somehow brought up to rest under his chin.  "I'm 
here."  She sniffled, smiling tremulously, and added, "You're okay, 
you're just...you're just in the hospital."

He didn't seem surprised, or upset, and nodded slowly.  "You...okay?" 
he rasped.

A thousand answers sprang to mind, but she merely said, "I am now."

"Good," he mouthed, his eyes fluttering shut again.  His head rolled a 
little on the pillow, and then he was asleep.

More tears followed the first one, and Scully's head dropped, her 
forehead coming to rest on the mattress, shoulders shaking.

He was back.

***

4:00 am


A low voice called her name, and Scully awoke, just as two large, warm 
hands settled on her shoulders.  She instinctively knew it was Skinner, 
and managed not to flinch or cry out.  Although she did arch her back a 
little, her muscles protesting from the abuse of sitting awkwardly in a 
hard chair for too long.

"Dana?" he said again, voice hospital-quiet.  Unfortunately he did not 
take her silent hint for a massage, and his hands slid away.

She cleared her throat, which was dry and scratchy from crying.  "I'm 
fine," she said, and then winced at how hoarse she sounded.  Her hand 
came up to rub at her eyes, which were gritty and sore, and then she 
tried to straighten her hair a little, knowing it had to be messed from 
her impromptu nap at the edge of Mulder's bed.

Her mind flicked back to the moments after Mulder had spoken to her and 
then drifted back to sleep.  It seemed almost surreal now, but as she 
flicked a glance at his face, she knew it had really happened.  His 
face looked relaxed now, at peace in a normal slumber, unlike the waxy, 
unnaturalness he had retained in his coma.

The outpouring of relief and tension that had followed once he had 
fallen back to sleep had fortunately not lasted long.  She had felt 
silly then for having broken down like that.  But now, looking back, 
she was able to see that it had been a logical result of the intense 
stress of the last several months, not to mention the hormones of 
pregnancy.

Skinner shifted behind her, and said, "You should get some more sleep, 
Dana.  I won't bother asking you to go home, but at least lie down 
again."

Scully smiled slightly.  Once again she felt wide-awake, and this time 
not because of a nightmare.  Because all her hopes and dreams and 
wishes, centered around the man lying on the hospital bed before her, 
had finally come true.  She was surprised she had actually dozed off 
there earlier, although the crying jag had taken quite a bit of energy, 
especially her efforts to muffle her sobs.

"I don't think I can go to sleep again," she said, quite honestly, and 
could hear the awed satisfaction in her own voice.  How could it not be 
there, if she were able, she'd be dancing a jig, she thought a little 
giddily.

Obviously Skinner could hear something in her words as well.  One of 
his hands returned to her shoulder, his grip asking her to look at him, 
and she could feel the tension running through him.  It was in his 
voice too as he asked, "What happened?"

She turned her head, lifting it to meet his concerned gaze, and smiled 
beatifically.  "Mulder woke up," she said simply.  Her smile widened to 
a grin as she watched his eyes goggle in surprise, and his mouth open 
and close soundlessly.

His gaze then left her face to go to the man in the bed, and then came 
back.  His eyes narrowed a little as he studied her features, no doubt 
taking in not only eyes that had to be red-rimmed, a face that was 
blotchy and tear-streaked, but the absolute truth that shone within 
their blue depths.

An amazing transformation occurred.  Walter Skinner went from the tough 
as nails, always-stern Assistant Director, to a man who had just 
learned the most incredible news.  His whole demeanor changed, the 
tension in his body dissipated, his facial features relaxed, and relief 
and joy could be seen in his eyes.  "He..." his voice was husky, and he 
coughed to clear it before trying again.  "Mulder...?" Again it failed 
him, and his jaw worked as he seemed to struggle with his emotions. 

It seemed to Scully that he needed further confirmation also, and as 
she rose from the hard little chair, whose discomforts she had 
overlooked in her happiness but was definitely feeling now, she nodded 
and said, "Yes, he really woke up.  He knew who I was, tried to say my 
name," and here her enormous relief became obvious, "Scully, not Day-
na, he mouthed 'Scully'!"  She had to stop to take a deep breath, her 
heart pounding once again as she relived the moments of him awakening, 
before continuing.  "And he asked how I was!"  Her voice rose slightly 
at the end, evidence of her incredulity that his first thought had been 
concern for her, and not for himself.  

Walter had been looking at Mulder, a grin having finally broken over 
his face, but at her last words, he turned his head back to her.  The 
grin slid away, his face becoming serious once again.  "Somehow that 
doesn't surprise me," he said then. "For a very long time now you have 
always been his first concern, Dana."

It was odd that his words echoed her thoughts, but they touched her, 
deeply.  Tears, which came so easily to her now, sprang into her eyes, 
and she sniffled.  She ducked her head shyly, not because of the tears, 
but because, while she had always assumed Skinner was aware of her and 
Mulder's relationship, and even that he suspected or knew that Mulder 
was the father of her baby, she had never really come out and admitted 
to either of those things.

"Come here," Walter said softly, and tugged her into his arms, into 
which she went willingly.  He rocked her for a few minutes, and then 
made a snorting kind of laugh.  "Trust Mulder to do things his own way.  
You were ready to try that drug in the morning, and he beats you to 
it."

"Thank God," she whispered, and then had to laugh.  It came out more of 
a wobbly half-sigh, but it was a laugh, as had probably been Walter's 
intention.  He was right, it was very like Mulder, whether it had been 
in his control or not.

"Amen," he whispered back, then gave her one last squeeze before 
releasing her.  "You sure you won't try and lie down some more?" he 
asked.

Scully met his eyes briefly, before turning back to look at Mulder.  
"I'm afraid to miss something," she said softly.  "Afraid he'll wake 
up, and I won't know it."

"Dana..." Her name was filled with tender exasperation.  "Don't do this 
to yourself.  You'll be busy soon enough.  Get rest while you can."  He 
moved over to the lounge chair he had been sleeping in and bending 
slightly, lifted it easily and effortlessly by grasping its arms.  
"Slide that other chair out of the way, please."

She complied as quickly as she could, putting the harder chair back in 
place against the far wall, and turned to see him lowering the lounge 
chair right beside the bed, so that they ran parallel.  He then moved 
to the cot she had slept on and picked up her pillow, handing that to 
her, before bending to retrieve the blanket that had slipped to the 
floor some time ago.

"Sit," he commanded, indicating the chair, and lifted one eyebrow 
slightly.  Despite the lateness of the hour, or earliness, depending on 
how you looked at it, and the fact that he had been sleeping in his 
suit and tie, he still managed to look quite commandeering.  Like her 
superior.

Scully quirked her own eyebrow at him, to show he didn't intimidate her 
in the least, and made her way slowly to the chair, taking her own 
sweet time.  She arranged the pillow just so, and arranged the blanket 
he had tossed over the chair's back, before sitting down and getting 
comfortable.  The way he had placed the chair allowed her to reach 
Mulder's hand easily, without effort, which she did so immediately, 
holding it loosely in her grasp. 

"Thank-you," she said softly, turning her head to look at him.  "For 
just now, and for everything.  I don't think I've told you often enough 
how much I appreciate all that you've done for me."  Her free hand came 
up to rest on her belly.  "For us," she amended, glancing at Mulder to 
include him in her thanks.

"No thanks are necessary," was his quiet reply.  "Rest, Dana."

Scully nodded, folding the blanket ends over her middle and rested her 
head back on the pillow.  She would rest her body, and let her mind 
watch over Mulder.

***

5:40 am


Scully had not fallen asleep, as she had predicted she would not.  Thus 
she was awake, although not quite alert, when Mulder next opened his 
eyes.

It happened as before – starting with a sudden, deep inhalation, which 
pulled Scully from her blurred contemplation of his hand still clasped 
within hers.  Her eyes lifted to his face in time to see him wince, and 
then smack his lips a few times, just as his fingers twitched against 
hers.  

She sat up straighter, her free hand sweeping over her belly fleetingly 
before going up to smooth her hair and rub her tired eyes.  "Mulder?" 
she called softly, squeezing his fingers with gentle pressure.

Also as had happened earlier, his eyes fluttered a few times, his head 
moving on his pillow, and then she was briefly blessed with a glimpse 
of their beautiful hazel color.  A second or two went by, and his mouth 
moved again.  This time though, his hand pulled from hers, lifting 
halfway up towards his face.  It hovered there for a minute, and then 
flopped back down, mere inches from hers.  He made a questioning noise, 
a grunt of sorts, then shifted his arm so that his hand was once again 
touching hers and opened his eyes, immediately seeking and finding her.

Scully smiled.  "Hey," she said, keeping her voice soft.  A quick 
glance behind her when Mulder had first stirred had shown her that 
Walter was still there, apparently asleep, on the cot she had used 
earlier.

"Hey," was Mulder's reply, his voice raspy.

She scooted a little closer to the bed, more aware of the bulge of 
their baby then she had ever been as it pressed into the side, and 
brought her hand up to cup his cheek.  So much to tell him, but she 
knew now was not the time.  It was too soon.  And she wasn't sure how 
or where to begin either.  "How are you feeling?" she asked, going for 
a neutral topic, one that she was extremely interested in as well.

Mulder made a tiny shrugging motion, and shook his head, as if to say 
it were not important.  He lifted his free hand, the one with the IV, 
and it trembled a little as he reached across himself to tuck a strand 
of her hair behind her ear.  "You...look tired," he got out instead, 
and after a brief caress of the shell of her ear, lowered his arm back 
down to rest on his upper stomach, atop the blankets.

The response was automatic; her mouth was already opening to say the 
near infamous words 'I'm fine', when she saw the look in his eyes.  
They pleaded for honesty, for the absolute truth, and not a pat answer 
that hid her true feelings.  

The naked emotions there floored her, and she scrambled to regain her 
equilibrium.  "Too many late nights," she quipped lightly, dropping her 
gaze down to study his chin, her hand falling from his cheek to land on 
his pillow.

"Sculleee..." Her name was spoken with affection, a hint of amusement, 
and no small amount of frustration.

Ashamed, Scully closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath.  
When she opened them again, she met his squarely.  "I'm sorry, I 
shouldn't..." She frowned a little, of all the things she had imagined 
saying to him as she had waited and prayed for him to awaken, this was 
not it.  Finally she sighed and said, "I am tired.  It's...it's been 
difficult without you."

Mulder looked puzzled, and as his eyes scrutinized her face, they grew 
concerned and worried.  "Scully..." his voice faded out, and he coughed 
before continuing.  "How long...have I been here?"

Inwardly she flinched, but she managed to hold her gaze steady.  Her 
answer was vague and a little evasive, and her voice was amazingly 
calm.  "A few days."  

Surprisingly he did not push for clarification, or a reason as to why 
he was there.  "Oh," was all he said, before yawning, his eyes sliding 
shut.

And that was it, he was asleep again.

Scully remained as she was, holding his hand, although she did sit back 
slightly, and her other hand now rested atop her belly, where the baby 
had begun its early morning routine.  

Behind her, the cot squeaked, and she looked over her shoulder to see 
that Skinner was sitting up, regarding her with a small smile.  "I 
heard," was all he said.  He got up slowly, his knees creaking loudly, 
and stretched before walking to stand beside her and look down at the 
sleeping Mulder.  "It's kind of hard to believe, isn't it?" he said 
then.  He continued on, not waiting for a reply, "Will he sleep for a 
while again?"

Scully wasn't sure, but thought it was more than likely.  Apparently 
the sedatives had lingered in his system longer than she or the doctor 
thought they would have.  Either that, or Mulder just hadn't been ready 
to wake up.  They would probably never know.  "I think so, yes," she 
said finally.

"Good," Walter said succinctly.  "You can go home and have a real rest, 
get cleaned up and have a good meal before you come back here."  His 
gaze left Mulder's figure to stare at her implacably.  "I'll take you 
home, and pick you up later."

She had to admit, as much as she wanted to remain by Mulder's side, a 
nap on her own bed and a hot shower sounded wonderful.  Not to mention 
food.  She was starving.  She was tired and achy and hungry, but she 
felt rejuvenated, wildly alive, and the happiest she had been in 
months.  "No argument here," she told him, and planted her feet on the 
floor to haul herself up.

Walter's hand was there before her, and she took it, pulling on it as 
she rose from the chair.  "Thank-you," she said, smiling at him.  While 
he moved the lounge chair back out of the way, she turned to Mulder and 
leaned over to kiss his cheek.  "Love you, Mulder.  I'll be back 
later."

Scully was glad she did not have to drive home, even though her 
apartment was not very far away.  She hated to admit it, but getting 
behind the steering wheel had become quite the effort.

Turning, she saw Walter waiting by the door, giving her that extra bit 
of privacy, and she waddled her way over to him.  He held the door open 
for her, and then held her elbow as they made their way down the 
hallway to the elevators.

***


Georgetown University Medical Center
Georgetown, D.C.
March 8, 2001
11:45 am


The nurse's station was Scully's first stop several hours later, just 
as it had been her last stop when she and Skinner had left in the wee 
hours of the morning.  Amazingly the report she had given the charge 
nurse then about Mulder having awoken twice in an almost three hour 
period had been quite calm and rationally spoken. 

As she waited to speak to the duty nurse now, she recalled how 
giddiness had struck her once she was home, in the silence of her empty 
apartment.  How her legs had begun to tremble, and how she had feared 
she would collapse where she stood.  How she had made her way to her 
couch, and fallen into it with a grunt.  How she had then lain back 
against the pillows always there now because of her back, and fallen 
asleep.  And dreamed of Mulder.

An alive, awake, fully normal Mulder.

"Can I help you?" a perky, female voice said suddenly, jerking her from 
her memories.

Scully looked at the young woman in front of her, dressed in a pale 
purple uniform with her long, dark hair neatly twisted in a bun atop 
her head, and smiled.  "Yes, I'm Dana Scully.  I wanted to see if..."

"Oh, you're Fox Mulder's next of kin, aren't you?  And his other 
physician of record, right?" the nurse interrupted, not impolitely.  "I 
have his chart right here for you.  The doctor was in to see Mr. Mulder 
this morning, and gave him a complete physical exam and ordered a lab 
work-up."

Scully could just see the desk in front of the nurse, and watched as 
the young woman pushed a few papers aside before finding a chart, which 
she picked up and held out.  Scully took it with a murmured thank-you, 
and moved a few feet from the nurse's station, flipping the chart open.  
She leaned against the wall and quickly scanned the latest report, 
completed by Mulder's doctor at 8 am that morning.  

Points stuck out as she read - pupil reaction normal, motor response 
normal, reflexes normal, patient appeared lucid, clear liquid diet 
ordered.

Scully exhaled a heavy, shaky sigh, and sagged even further into the 
concrete pressed along her shoulder and upper arm, closing her eyes for 
a moment.  Despite her belief and the surety in her heart that Mulder 
was all right, the doctor's report was much needed reassurance.

Straightening, she flipped the doctor's reports over, and scanned the 
lab results.  Baseline.  Next was the nurse's shift report, with 
notations that Mulder had awakened twice more after the doctor's 
examination, and that he had tolerated his clear liquid breakfast well.

The last nurse's round had been fifteen minutes ago, so it was likely 
he was still asleep.  That too was a relief.  She had been apprehensive 
on the drive to the hospital with Skinner, who had dropped her off on 
his way into the Hoover Building.  He had told her he planned to return 
later to visit Mulder. 

She was still apprehensive.  Apprehensive over revealing her pregnancy, 
and his part in it, to Mulder.

How would he take the news?  Would he be thrilled and ecstatic as she 
had been?  Or at least as she had been once the initial shock had worn 
off, and tests had proven the baby was Mulder's, and completely 
healthy...and human. 

After the IVF had failed that second time, she had been devastated, and 
he had been supportive and sympathetic, and an extreme comfort to her.  
They had gotten much closer afterwards, and had begun to take baby 
steps towards a physical relationship.  A physical relationship that, 
once begun, had been everything she had dreamed, or imagined, it would 
be with Mulder.  He was a vigorous, enthusiastic and curious lover who 
had always strove for their mutual pleasure.  From fast and furious 
couplings against his wall or on her kitchen counter, to long, slow, 
drawn-out, endless hours of seduction and satisfaction and bliss.

But they had never thought they would have, or be able to have, a 
child.

And here she was, about to present him with one nearly fait accompli.

Quit stalling, she told herself, and straightened her spine, which had 
slumped as her thoughts had down-spiraled.  She closed Mulder's chart, 
walked the few steps back to the nurse's station, and placed it on the 
counter.  Once the nurse saw her and acknowledged the return of the 
chart, she turned and headed to Mulder's room.

Nerves had her hesitating at the closed door, her palms damp and her 
pulse pounding.  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and 
walked in.

Mulder was asleep.

Scully heaved a silent sigh.  It was a welcome moment of respite, even 
with her resolved intention to talk to him.  She let the door close 
behind her and advanced further into the room, sliding her coat off and 
draping it over the spare chair.

The lounge chair, her chair, was near the bed, but she nudged it a 
little closer, wanting to sit and hold his hand.  Before taking a seat, 
she leaned in and smoothed her hand through his hair, running her eyes 
caressingly over his face.  Stepping back, she made herself 
comfortable, propping the pillow against her lower back, and took his 
hand in hers.

Whether it was the contact between them, or just a coincidence, Mulder 
woke up.  He made a snuffling kind of exhalation, moved his head on his 
pillow and then opened his eyes.

The fact that he immediately sought her out lent credence to the theory 
about contact.

Scully smiled when his eyes widened slightly, and said softly, "Hi."  
Her thumb began its gentle, rhythmic stroking over the back of his 
hand.

"Hi," Mulder whispered back, smiling too.

"How you feeling?" she asked, and leaned forward to prop her chin on 
the palm of her other hand.  This brought her faces only inches from 
his.  Almost close enough to lean in a bit more and kiss him.

"Pretty good," he replied, then jutted his chin at her.  "How 'bout 
you?"

"Better every time I see you."  She wasn't good at tender talk, not 
face to face anyway, although she had been slowly improving during 
their times together, and ducked her head shyly after saying the words.  

"Scully," Mulder chuffed, and reached out with his IV-encumbered hand 
to touch her chin, exerting enough pressure to lift it so that she once 
again met his gaze.  When she did, he smiled at her.  "That's better," 
he whispered.

He couldn't hold his arm that way for long, and put it back down on the 
bed.  But he turned his other hand in hers, until it was he doing the 
holding, and raised them both so that he could brush a kiss on her 
knuckles.  He then held her hand against his chest, still in his.

She smiled at the gesture, and then his eyes fluttered closed again.  
She was content to sit and watch him, knowing the time would come for 
them to talk.

A few minutes went by, or maybe longer, she really wasn't sure, and it 
surprised her slightly when he spoke again.

With his eyes still shut, Mulder said, "Hey, Scully?  What things?"

She was puzzled for a moment, until her mind flashed back to the words 
she had whispered to him just before he woke up.  About having good 
things to tell him.

It was time.

***


11:45 am


Peaceful.  Warm.  Safe.

Mulder felt all those things, and more.  He drifted in a semi-wakeful 
state, his eyes closed, breathing deep and slow.  No cares, no 
concerns.  No worries.

Eventually that state was disturbed, and sounds began to penetrate into 
his consciousness.  The sucking, whooshing of the door opening and 
closing.  Footsteps, careful and quiet.  The rustle of clothing, the 
scrape of a chair across the floor.

Scully?  He wondered.  Hoped.  Wanted it to be her.

And then there was a presence, beside him.

Scully.  He knew it was her, even before he opened his eyes.  Could 
smell her scent, light and airy and so elementally Scully.  Could just 
feel her.

Fingers touched him, smoothing gently, softly, through his hair, and 
then moved away, held his hand.  Scully's fingers.  They were soft and 
warm, delicate yet so strong.  Just like she was.  Stronger then he 
was, in so many ways.

He fought his way up from the depths of his half-sleep, huffing out a 
breath with the effort, and rolled his head on his pillow.  Towards 
where he knew she would be.  He opened his eyes, and felt blessed.

She looked so incredibly beautiful, as she always did.  Yet she seemed 
different too.  Her hair seemed longer for some reason, and he wondered 
if she had done something different with it, and her facial features 
were softer, her cheeks just a slight bit fuller.

Scully smile was as gentle as her voice when she spoke. "Hi."  

Those hadn't changed – the voice he heard in his head whenever he 
wasn't with her, and the memory of her smile that consoled him during 
long, lonely nights.  Although the frequency of those lonely nights had 
decreased in the last few months he recalled with an inward smile.
He gave Scully a real one.  "Hi."

Her eyes grew even softer, if that was possible.  "How are you?" she 
asked, still talking in low tones.  She continued to hold his hand, her 
thumb caressing his skin with tiny strokes of her thumb, and brought 
her other arm up to rest on the mattress.  She then leaned forward 
slightly and propped her chin on her palm, bringing her face almost 
close enough for a kiss.

Mulder was disappointed when she did not move in all the way and 
actually kiss him, but knew she would deal with her concern for his 
health first, as always.  Maybe if he hastened that along, he could 
entice her into getting a little closer, it had been a little while 
since they'd had some nice full body contact.  Since before Oregon, he 
thought fuzzily.  

He felt fine, other than being a little tired, and well, a little 
muddled, he decided.  "Pretty good," he told her, and then studied her 
features more closely, remembering suddenly the exhaustion he had seen 
in her eyes and on her face the last time he had woken up.

Thankfully though, her eyes were clear and bright, happy, and her face 
was line-free.  Still...She was good at hiding things.  "How 'bout 
you?" he asked her, lifting his chin at her.

"Better every time I see you."  

She had almost whispered the words, and her answer surprised and 
pleased him, touched him.  In an odd way, one that made his body tense 
slightly, it worried him too.  Was there something wrong with him, 
something serious?  How long had he been in the hospital?  

So many questions to ask, he wasn't sure where to start.

He forgot about that though as he observed her actions.  Obviously what 
she had told him had embarrassed her, for her cheeks flushed an 
enchanting pale pink, and she ducked her head down, avoiding his eyes.


"Scully," he chided, and lifted his free arm to touch her on the chin, 
to bring her head back up.  He smiled at her when their eyes met again, 
and whispered, "That's better."  His arm was shaking from holding it 
up, so he lowered it back down along his side.  Because he had wanted 
more contact, he brought their entwined hands up to his face, turning 
them so that he could kiss her knuckles.  Liking the feel of their 
clasped hands, and the sight, instead of lowering them back to where 
they had been, he rested them on his chest.

He closed his eyes on her smile, needing a moment to rest, to regroup.  
Get his mind clear.

And for some reason, Scully's voice was in his head.  She was saying 
she had so many things to tell him.  He couldn't remember having a 
conversation like that before, and picturing her once again as she had 
looked, tired and worried and worn beside his bed, he wondered if she 
had said that to him while he had been out.  The moment he thought 
that, he was sure that was how he had heard the words, while he was 
unconscious, or sleeping, or whatever.  

He heard the words again, heard Scully say 'very good things', and 
spoke almost without being aware of it, his eyes still closed.  "Hey, 
Scully?  What things?"

There was no reply, but he felt the sudden tension in her body through 
her fingers.  Opening his eyes again, he met her widened, surprised 
eyes.  "Scully?" he repeated.

"Um..." was all she got out, before grimacing slightly.  She then 
flicked her eyes downward before taking a very deep breath.  "Mulder," 
she said, then stopped again.  "This is...this is really hard for me," 
she continued, and took another deep breath.  "Mulder, do you 
remember...do you remember after the last IVF procedure..." Here she 
faltered, cleared her throat.  "After it failed...what you said to me 
that day?"

Mulder had not expected that question, had in fact had no idea where 
she had been headed after she had said this was very hard for her.  At 
her words about that day, about a year ago, he flashed back to that 
moment in her apartment.  Saw and relived again the sadness in her 
eyes, in her very being, as she had tearfully told him that the 
procedure had not taken.  Remembered pulling her trembling body into 
his arms.  Vaguely recalled murmuring comforting words to her.

Before he could reply, Scully spoke again, her voice now husky and a 
little hoarse,  "You...you told me...never to give up on a miracle, 
Mulder."  She ducked her chin a little, but not before he caught the 
glint of tears in her eyes.  "I didn't really believe in them though.  
Not for a very long time."

Miracles?  What did she mean by miracles?  His hand tightened around 
hers, and he struggled to try and rise up from his prone position.  He 
could not, for he was still too weak.

Again before he could say or ask her anything, she spoke.  "But I 
believe in them now, Mulder."  She raised her head, meeting his gaze 
square on, eyes liquid.  "Because I've been blessed with two miracles."
She pulled her hand free from his grasp and raised it to stroke his 
cheek.  "I have you back," she slid her hand away and dropped it out of 
his sight, looking downwards again, "and I have...I have our baby, 
Mulder."

The word 'baby' echoed in his head, accompanied by the noise of her 
chair scraping against the floor as she pushed it back.  That sound was 
soon replaced by the thud of his heart, thunderously loud, felt in 
every microfibre of his body.  

His mouth was dry, hanging open in stunned shock.  Did she...did she 
just say what he thought she said?

She stood, and his eyes dropped to her very rounded, very pregnant 
belly.  Yep, she did.  Speechless, he could only stare.  But...how?  
How had she gotten pregnant?  And how did she get so pregnant?

He was distracted from his thoughts once again when Scully said his 
name, softly, worriedly.  "Mulder?"  Her hands came up to cradle her 
belly.  

Protectively, he thought, and immediately jolted out of his silence.  
"Scully..." he started, and felt tears rise in his own eyes.  Tears of 
amazement, of joy and happiness.  Tears of pride.  "Oh, Scully."  It 
took effort, supreme effort, but he raised himself up on one elbow, his 
IV-laden arm reaching out towards her, towards their baby.

Scully sniffled, one hand going up to wipe her eyes, and stepped closer 
to his bed, bringing her belly right up against the bars.  She used 
that hand to support herself, gripping the uppermost metal bar tightly.  
Her other hand remained on her belly, moving in gentle circles.

Mulder leaned even more towards her, his hand now hovering just 
millimeters over her belly, shaking uncontrollably.  "Can...may...may I 
touch..." he hesitated, lifting his head from the incredible sight 
before him to look at her face.  He didn't want to offend her by 
calling the baby 'it'.  "What do I call...?"

Scully made a snuffling noise, half-laughter, half-sob, and said, "I've 
just been calling it 'baby'.  I don't...I don't know if it's a boy or 
girl."  She sniffled and chuffed out another waterlogged laugh.  "I 
didn't want to know...I didn't want to know the sex without you."

"Oh, Scully," he said softly, absurdly touched that she had not found 
out whether it was a boy or a girl because of him.  Not that the sex 
mattered at all.  Boy, girl, it was incredible either way.  A baby, 
their baby. 

A horrible thought hit him, and he barely contained the urge to suck in 
his breath and blurt out, 'Is it human?'  Surely she would not be this 
happy, for it was obvious she was, very much so, if it were not human.  
He pushed the thought aside for now, added it to the list of questions 
that were adding up in one corner of his brain.  He went back to the 
question he had first started to ask her.  "May I touch it?"

"Please," she whispered, and lifting her hand from her belly, took his, 
and placed it where hers had been.  

It felt...amazing.  Hard, yet soft, and warm through the cotton of her 
thin sweater.  He moved his hand tentatively, tracing the swell as it 
dipped down.

Suddenly her belly tightened and shifted, and Scully gasped.  
Frightened, Mulder yanked his hand away, saying her name in a voice 
that was high and choked.

"No, no," Scully said quickly, her voice a little strangled.  She 
exhaled loudly and smiled at him.  "It's okay, Mulder.  The baby just 
moved, that's all.  You didn't do anything."  She reached out and 
unpeeled his fingers from the metal bar.  "Here, feel."  She placed his 
hand on a different spot, up higher at the top of the swell.  "He, or 
she, likes to do somersaults."  She did not move her hand away from 
his, and kept it on top, pressing firmly.

Mulder jumped when he felt the surge beneath their hands, but did not 
pull away this time.  "Oh my God, Scully, that's...that's incredible."
His eyes pulled away and shot to her face.  "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," she said honestly.  "When it kicks me in the bladder or my 
ribs, it hurts.  But it's a good hurt, you know?"  She gasped again, 
the baby had really moved that time, it had even dislodged his hand.  
He put it back, hoping to feel it move again.  Scully then added with a 
touch of wryness, "And when it rolls around just like that, there's 
pressure, a lot of pressure."

She shifted on her feet, grimacing, and removed her hand from on top of 
his to twist around behind her.  She rubbed at her back, and her 
contortions dislodged him this time.  

He accidentally brushed one of her breasts.

Her much larger breasts.  His eyes had of course followed his hand, and 
now he gawked.  How had he missed them before?  Scully had always had 
beautiful breasts, but these...these were...he had to use that word 
again.  They were incredible.

Scully shifted again, making an odd sound, and he looked up to see her 
smirking at him.  Apparently she had noticed his fascination with her 
pregnancy-enhanced attributes.  She did not seem bothered by it though, 
and he shrugged at her and smiled.  Scully knew of his attraction to 
her breasts anyway.  A thought popped in his head, and he couldn't 
resist saying, "Can I touch them?"

"Mulder!"  Scully sounded more amused then anything, although there was 
a hint of scandalized outrage in her tone.  She blushed adorably, and 
hunched her shoulders in, hands coming up to cross over them in an 
attempt to cover them he guessed.  Not very well though - her hands and 
arms were small, and her breasts definitely were not.  She shot a look 
at the door, as if worried someone might walk in and hear her, and 
said, "Later."

"I'm looking forward to it, Scully," he murmured huskily, and laughed 
when her blush deepened.

She tried to take the upper hand with her comeback, spoken in a husky, 
come-hither voice.  "So am I."

"Ooooh, bring it on, baby," he quipped back.  A wave of tiredness 
washed over him then, and he had to fall back onto his pillows, his 
hand coming up to cover a big yawn.

Scully immediately dropped the teasing, her face crinkling in concern.  
"You're tired," she said.  "You still need rest."  Her features tensed 
briefly.  "We still have a lot of things to talk about, Mulder."  Her 
hand swept up to indicate her belly.  "Obviously I'm quite pregnant, 
and you must be wandering how."

His earlier concerns flooded back.  By her size, and he was no expert, 
he was guessing she was 7 or 8 months pregnant.  He had thought he had 
only been gone maybe a week.  Apparently he was wrong.  He merely 
nodded though, his eyes were getting very heavy.  That was another big 
concern.  What the hell had happened to or was wrong with him?

"I'll be here while you sleep, Mulder.  Don't worry," Scully said then, 
moving to bring her chair closer to his bed again.  "We'll talk more 
when you wake up again."

"Okay, Scully," he whispered, and through half-closed eyes, watched her 
make herself comfortable, smiling slightly at the way she lowered her 
bulk into her chair.  Not that he'd ever refer to her newfound weight 
as 'her bulk' to her face.

With that last thought, he was gone.

***

11:55 am


Scully could see the puzzlement in Mulder's eyes as he struggled to 
rise from his prone position.  She knew it was from her question about 
the failed IVF and if he recalled what his comment to her had been that 
fateful day, and from her comment about miracles. 

She reached out to touch his face, to stroke his cheekbone with her 
thumb, and was amazed that her hand was so steady.  Inside her nerves 
were snapping like live wires, and her stomach felt like it was twisted 
in knots.

Yet at the same time, she felt relief.  A different sort of relief than 
the one she had felt when Mulder had awakened from his coma and spoken 
to her.  This was a relief for finally being able to share her news 
with him.  News that would have an impact on the rest of their lives.  
As with Skinner, she knew the Gunmen and her mother, and most likely 
John, all assumed that Mulder was the father.  She had just never 
confirmed it to anyone.  Hadn't felt right in telling anyone before the 
father himself knew.

"I have you back," Scully said then, and slid her hand from his cheek, 
to rest on the bulge of the baby.  She looked down at it too, seeking 
its familiar comfort, drawing the strength to continue.  "And I 
have...I have our baby, Mulder."  With her legs, she pushed her chair 
back, intending to rise, and winced slightly at the sound of it moving 
against the floor.

Still looking down, she pushed herself up from the chair carefully, to 
reveal her rounded belly.  She waited for some indication that he had 
heard her words, seen the proof before him, but heard nothing, not even 
his breathing.  Oh, God.  What if he...what if he didn't care?

Terrified, and on the brink of tears, she lifted her head.  And saw him 
staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at her stomach.  "Mulder?" she could 
not help saying as he still remained soundless.  Just as she could no 
more stop herself from lifting her hands to cover the baby, to hide it 
from him, even though it was far too late for that.  

Leave.  Get out.  The words were running through her brain, but her 
feet felt rooted to the floor.

And then he spoke, and her world righted itself again.

"Scully."  He almost moaned her name, and she saw his eyes shine with 
tears.  "Oh, Scully."  

That was when she knew his speechlessness had not been because of a 
lack of caring, or dislike, but because of his utter awe.  She watched 
next as he gritted his teeth and got himself up on one elbow, his other 
arm rising to reach across towards her stomach.  It was shaking, so she 
stepped closer to the bed, pressing herself against the bedrails, to 
make it easier for him to reach his target.  She had to grip the rail, 
for balance, and because her knees still felt weak.

The baby, whether sensing her turmoil, or just because, had begun to 
stir, and she rubbed small circles on her belly in an effort to soothe.

Mulder had shifted even closer to her when she moved into the bed, but 
still he had not touched her.  His hand was shaking almost violently, 
and he looked both petrified and fascinated.  "Can...may...may I 
touch...?" he said, and the stunned hesitation in his voice had fresh 
tears welling in her eyes.  Tears of happiness.  Mulder lifted his head 
to look at her and spoke again.  "What do I call...?"

Scully half-laughed, half-cried, and said, "I've just been calling it 
'baby'.  I don't...I don't know if it's a boy or girl."  Her nose was 
starting to run, and her throat felt clogged with the unshed tears.  
She sniffled and told him, "I didn't want to know...I didn't want to 
know the sex without you."  She had had the opportunity to learn it 
several times, and had declined each time.  It was something she had 
wanted to share with Mulder, hoped desperately she would be able to, 
despite hints and pressures from her mother and even the Gunmen.  And 
because he had not been there to make the decision as to whether or not 
they should wait and be surprised, she had chosen to remain in the 
dark.

"Oh, Scully," was Mulder's response, and by his tone and the look on 
his face, knew he was pleased and touched by her declaration.  "May I 
touch it?" he asked then, hand still hovering in mid-air, in a way she 
knew had to be tiring his still weak muscles.

She had waited so long to hear those words from his lips, Mulder's 
lips.  His child-like awe as Fox when he had touched her belly had been 
wonderful to experience, but this, this was what she had wanted to see 
and hear and feel.  The reaction of her Mulder - her lover, her 
partner, her friend, and the father of her baby.  "Please," she 
whispered, and somehow knowing he just could not make the last move, 
she took his hand in hers, and laid it on her belly.

Warm and familiar and so wonderfully right.  His hand looked like it 
belonged there, which it did.  And as if the baby knew it did, it 
rolled, her belly tightening with its motions.

The movement frightened Mulder, who pulled his hand away, and she 
hastened to tell him it was all right, breathing heavily through her 
nose.  She took his hand off of the bedrail, which he had grabbed onto, 
and put it back on her belly, at a spot a bit lower than before, and 
pushed down slightly.

The baby surged against their hands, as she had known it would, and 
more wonder filled Mulder's eyes.  His concern over whether the baby's 
movements hurt touched her so, and she tried her best to explain the 
gamut of emotions she felt with each and every somersault or roll or 
jab of their baby.

While she spoke, the baby kicked rather forcefully, and knocked 
Mulder's hand from her stomach.  Less hesitant now, he returned it just 
as quickly, moving it about to search for more movements.

Her back was starting to ache fiercely with the way she was standing, 
and she shifted, bringing her hand up and around to try and rub at the 
worst spot.  This time it was she who knocked Mulder's hand from her 
belly, and against her breast.

It had been so long since she had felt hands other than her own or her 
doctor's touch her there, and because it was Mulder, that light, 
fleeting contact tingled throughout her body.  Could still feel it, in 
fact.  Then again, there was also the fact that they very tender and 
sensitive.  

She made a sound, one that was a combination moan and sigh, and looked 
down to see Mulder staring slack-jawed at her chest.  Her breasts were 
much bigger naturally, in preparation for their roll in childbirth, and 
he appeared absolutely enthralled with the new improved models.

Of course, Mulder had always been a breast man.  Even before they had 
become a couple, she had been aware of his supposedly discreet looks in 
her direction, and been a recipient of some not so discreet looks as 
well, and suspected it.  And once they were intimate, he had quickly 
confirmed her breast man theory.  Not that she had minded of course, 
who could with the attention he gave them?

He looked up at her, shrugged and smiled, not ashamed in the least to 
have been caught openly gawking at her.  He also looked adorably sexy 
at that moment, even in his hospital bed.  His next question sent 
another tingle, a sort of embarrassed thrill, through her.

"Can I touch them?"

"Mulder!"  Unrepentant, that's what he was.  She felt her cheeks go 
hot, and honestly could not have said whether it was from arousal or 
the embarrassment.  His eyes were warm and laughing, dropping back down 
to her chest, and she couldn't help trying to cover them, hunching her 
shoulders inwards.  She looked towards the door, and then her playful 
side, the one only Mulder could bring out so easily, blurted, "Later."

Mulder, always quick with the comebacks, husked, "I'm looking forward 
to it, Scully," and then chuckled warmly as her blush deepened.

The sound made her insides feel like honey, and had her pulse 
accelerating.  She continued their banter, realizing suddenly it was 
something else she had missed during his absence.  "So am I."

He came right back.  "Ooooh, bring it on, baby."  But the innuendo and 
husky voice were spoiled by the large yawn that stretched his mouth 
wide, and had him dropping back onto his pillow. 

Everything else was forgotten.  She frowned; worried she had tired him 
out, put too much stress on him too soon.  "You're tired.  You still 
need rest."  Her frown deepened, she had barely scratched the surface 
of all the things she needed to tell him.  "We still have a lot of 
things to talk about, Mulder."  Her hand came up, fluttered in the air 
over her belly.  She made a comment about being quite pregnant, and how 
he must be wondering about it.

She saw the concern in his eyes, even as they grew heavier, and watched 
him nod.  The fact that he did not try and fight the sleep that was 
overtaking him, did not push to hear everything now, showed her how 
tired he was.  She put her hands on the back of her chair, pushing it 
close to the bed again, and reassured him she was staying and that they 
would talk more.

He mumbled, "Okay, Scully," and she saw that he managed to keep his 
eyes open as she lowered herself into the chair.  By the time she was 
all settled and looked up at him again, he was asleep.

Despite all that they still had to discuss, and the seriousness of 
those matters, Scully felt good.  Wonderfully alive, and joyously 
happy.

Once again she was content to sit and watch him sleep.

***


1:15 pm


"It wasn't a dream, was it?"

Scully was in the middle of a stretch – feet splayed wide, one hand on 
her lower back, the other supporting her belly as she gently arched 
backwards – and her head popped up in surprise at the sound of Mulder's 
raspy voice.  The last time she had looked, just minutes ago when she 
rose from her seat to try and rid herself of the discomfort she was in, 
he had been sound asleep.  She turned slowly, to see him lifting 
himself up onto his elbow, his eyes focused intently on her rounded 
middle, which was exaggeratedly emphasized by her pose.

Automatically she lifted her wrist and glanced at her watch, 
straightening her stance.  Mulder had slept just over an hour.  Rubbing 
her back, she walked over to his bedside, feeling slightly uneasy.  His 
question had been somewhat rhetorical, but with just enough inflection 
on the words that there might have been a hint of distress.

Cautiously she said, "No, it wasn't a dream.  Do...do you wish it had 
been?"  Even as she was saying the words she felt guilty for doubting 
him, and yet still afraid his answer would be yes.

His eyes flew to her face, his mouth falling open.  He gaped at her for 
a moment before finally choking out, "No, Scully.  Never!"  He lifted 
his free hand and laid it on her belly.  "This, Scully...this is 
something I hadn't allowed myself to hope for.  It is amazing, and it 
is a miracle.  But I think...no, I know you've had a lot more time to 
accept this, and I'm...I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact 
that you and I are going to have a baby."

Scully covered his hand with hers, squeezing his fingers.  "I'm sorry 
to doubt you, Mulder," she said softly, feeling her throat thicken and 
tears approaching.  "It's no excuse...but it was really difficult 
without you here."

"It's okay, Scully," he told her, his expression and tone gentle, 
reassuring.  His lips twisted into a frown a moment later.  
"Scully...you've said that before, that it's been difficult without me.  
What do you mean?  How long have I...what's happened to me, Scully?"

That was the million-dollar question.  And she had to come up with a 
million dollar answer.  Not an easy task.  "This is going to take some 
time, Mulder," she said, "so bear with me if I seem to have trouble 
with it, okay?"

At his somewhat impatient nod, Scully slid away from his hand on her 
belly and turned to bring her chair back beside the bed.  As soon as 
she was seated comfortably, she reached out and took his hand in hers.  
She inhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves, and gather her 
thoughts.  This was made even more difficult by Mulder's unwavering 
stare.  Her loud exhale ruffled her hair.

"Mulder..." she began, and then paused, shaking her head slightly.  It 
would not be good to jump right in with him being found in the woods of 
Oregon, he was not aware he had ever been missing to begin with.  
Another deep breath, and she started again.  "Mulder, do you remember 
when you went back to Bellefleur with Wal...with Skinner?"

"Yeahhhh..." he answered slowly, puzzlement washing over his features.  
"Was that last week...?  You said I had been here a few days, right?"

Shit.  She had been hoping that with the state he'd been in when she 
had told him that, he would have forgotten her answer.  No such luck.  
She also had not really rehearsed, or gone over in her mind, what she 
was going to tell him, or how.  She started slowly, answering his 
question.  "Well, Mulder, I sort of fudged the truth then."

"What do you mean 'fudged the truth', Scully?" Mulder asked.  

His eyes had taken on a raptor-like glare, and Scully felt herself 
squirming on the receiving end of it.  Flustered, she swallowed the 
thick lump of nervousness in her throat and coughed a little before 
continuing.  "Mulder, please don't be angry.  When you woke up and 
asked me how long you'd been there, I couldn't just tell you everything 
right then.  Technically you have only been here, in Georgetown 
University Medical Center, just over a week."  She watched him blink 
rapidly in surprise, she was fairly certain he had assumed they were in 
Bellefleur, despite her obvious condition.

He said nothing though, just jerked his chin in a gesture asking her to 
continue.  "That day...that day you and Skinner went back to the woods 
in Oregon, you disappeared.  He said you were there one minute, and 
then just gone the next.  He saw a bright light in the sky, a...Mulder, 
he saw a spaceship."  She squeezed his fingers, needing the contact, 
wondering if he did too.  He still said nothing, although he did return 
the squeeze.  "You were abducted, Mulder."  Nervously she forced a 
laugh, though it was more a choked sound than anything.  "Bet you never 
thought you'd hear me say those things, huh Mulder?"

Mulder pulled his gaze from hers, looking down at their hands instead, 
and she could see his shoulders were tight with tension.  She 
immediately regretted her attempt at levity, and slumped downwards, her 
hand going to her belly for comfort.  "No, not really, Scully," he 
whispered.  His shoulders heaved, and a moment later he lifted his head 
again, his eyes damp but his face composed, almost blank.  "How...how 
long, Scully?"

"I...I need to say this all at once, Mulder.  I think it will be 
easier.  I'll answer all your questions after, I promise."  A deep 
breath, and then she began.  "We...it...when he came back, I...was in 
the hospital."  His fingers tightened almost unbearably, and his head 
shot back up, worry warring with a flurry of emotions on his face.  She 
hastened to add, "Remember those spells I had in Bellefleur?"  Without 
waiting for his reply, she went on.  "Well I had another one back at 
the Hoover Building, and the Gunmen brought me to the hospital.  That's 
when I found out I was pregnant.  A few hours later Skinner came back 
to tell me you were gone."

"Scully..." Mulder whispered.  "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head quickly; she needed to go on before she burst into 
tears.  Telling him was like reliving it all again.  Her fear, her 
worry, everything.  The baby surged against her hands, obviously 
disturbed by her turbulent emotions, and she began her soothing circles 
over her taut belly.  "I knew if Skinner told his story about the 
spaceship and your abduction, Kersch would make his life a living hell.  
There was a task force appointed, and we were both treated like 
suspects.  A lot of strange evidence was dug up and presented, and it 
seemed like they were trying to prove you had staged your own 
disappearance.  That Bellefleur had been a set-up."

Mulder was still staring at her with rapt interest, but he had sat up a 
little straighter mid-way through her recitation.  He interrupted, 
despite what she had told him about needing to say it all at once.  
"Kersch?  What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

"He's the Deputy Director now, Mulder," she told him, and watched the 
distaste and disgust cross his face.  She shrugged, she was used to it 
by now.  "We thought we had found you in Arizona, but it was the Alien 
Bounty Hunter, and he almost got Gibson Praise, who had mysteriously 
turned up.  He later went missing again."  

She shook her head slightly, for Gibson Praise was not important right 
now, and paused to rest for a second, her mind still running through 
everything that had happened since Mulder had been gone.  "The agent 
who had been assigned to lead the task force, John Doggett, became my 
partner, and while your case still remained open, we worked on other X-
Files."  She did not bother telling him about her less than auspicious 
beginning with John, or the cases they had worked on, those could wait 
until another time.  "The Gunmen were continually monitoring and 
intercepting data from all over the country in the meantime, and they 
detected some unusual activity in Oregon in mid-January."

She saw Mulder's eyes widen, and he mouthed the word 'January' with 
some surprise.  She answered his unspoken question, "It's March 8th, 
Mulder.  Two thousand and one.  You were missing for six months."

His eyes flicked down to her belly, and she could imagine the wheels 
turning in his head, knew he was calculating the time frame.  Once 
again, before he could ask, she said, "When you were found in the 
woods, with some of the other abductees, you were in a coma.  It lasted 
for almost two weeks, and when...when you did wake up, you...you were 
not yourself."

This time his eyebrows climbed his forehead in a credible impersonation 
of hers.  "Not myself?" he repeated in a voice that actually held 
traces of amusement.

Probably shock, Scully thought.  Deservedly so, she'd told him one hell 
of a tale, worthy of a spot in an X-File.  "No.  Mentally, you were a 
child."

The door opened then with a loud swoosh, startling them both.  Scully 
gasped, while Mulder's head jerked up and to the side.

It was a nurse, bearing a lunch tray.  "Good afternoon," she said.  
"Mr. Mulder, you were asleep earlier and missed lunch, so I called for 
another one.  I took a chance you'd be awake this time, and you are!"
She bustled into the room, depositing the tray on the little rolling 
table, looking at Scully in her chair, which was in the way.

Taking the silent hint, Scully rose, a bit unsteadily, and nudged the 
chair aside.  She took the opportunity to stretch once again, for her 
back was aching and her legs felt cramped.  She really needed to walk a 
bit, and get something to eat.  "Mulder," she called softly, 
distracting him from his horrified stare at his lunch.  "I'm going to 
stretch my legs and grab something from the cafeteria.  I'll be right 
back, okay?"

Mulder nodded, and weakly quipped, "Bring me a cheeseburger, would ya, 
Scully?"  

It was a standard Mulder line, but delivered with merely a fraction of 
his normal flair.  Scully knew he was busily processing everything she 
had told him, and that he was distancing himself from it so he could 
look at it objectively.  He had probably also said it in an effort to 
relieve her.  It did, slightly.

"Sure, Mulder," she said.  "No problem."  She found a smile for him, 
which he returned with a weak one of his own, and left the room.

***

1:30 pm


Mulder was still reeling from the shock of hearing how long he had been 
missing, abducted, whatever you wanted to call it, when Scully's last 
statement, about him not being himself pushed him one step closer to 
the edge.  He knew his eyebrow had to be close to the ceiling as he 
echoed her words.  "Not myself?"  

"No.  Mentally, you were a child," Scully said quite baldly.

The slight amusement Mulder had been holding fled.  What the hell did 
she mean by that?  He was a child?

A sound at the door had them both reacting.  Scully by gasping, and he 
by flinching, his head whipping up to see who had intruded.

It was a nurse, carrying what he assumed was his lunch.  He did not 
know what time it was, or how long he had slept since his so-called 
breakfast tray, and up until Scully's grave recital, he had thought he 
might actually have been hungry.  Now he wasn't so sure.

He barely listened as the nurse bubbled about, more interested in 
watching Scully, who was pale and appeared to be in physical 
discomfort.  The tray being practically shoved under his nose had him 
glancing away from her, and then she was telling him she needed to 
stretch and get something from the cafeteria.

Needing the levity, some semblance of normalcy, maybe even to see 
Scully smile again, he made a weak joke.  "Bring me a cheeseburger, 
would ya, Scully?"  

It sort of worked.  Scully gave him an approximation of a smile, one 
that was better than nothing.  He returned it, and watched her leave 
the room.

The nurse was back in his face.  She cheerfully helped him up into a 
sitting position - raising the head of the bed, tucking pillows beneath 
his back, ensuring he was not dizzy or light-headed from the motion.  
Once he had assured her he was fine, she first tucked a small towel in 
the neck of his gown, making him feel like he was 4, and then rolled 
the table closer to him so that he could reach everything easily.

Mulder grimaced once more as he took in the items on the tray.  A bowl 
of some clear broth, and a small carton of apple juice sat before him.  
That was it, not even some crackers to at least liven up the broth.  He 
wasn't sure if he would be able to contain his excitement.

Maybe his joke to Scully about the cheeseburger hadn't been such a bad 
idea.

Scully...

Mulder winced to himself.  The arrival of the nurse and his lunch had 
distracted him, but now that he was alone again, his mind started up 
again.  

Even with all that he had just heard, and all the unanswered questions 
simmering, he could still remember how Scully had looked when upon 
waking he had asked if it was a dream.  He had seen the flash of hurt, 
the confusion in her eyes, was picturing it again.  She had of course 
tried to cover it up by looking at her watch, avoiding his eyes as she 
came back to his bedside.  Regrouping.  Distancing.  Beginning the 
process of closing herself off.  But it was in her voice as well – pain 
and circumspection, a slight hesitancy.

He was sorry he had caused her that pain, but the news really had 
floored him.  Scully – who had been barren – was now pregnant, very 
pregnant, and with his child.  And though she had not come out and said 
it, he presumed by natural means.  How was that possible?

And then to be told the rest.  His abduction, being found in a coma 
months later, to awaken with the mentality of a child.  He wasn't sure 
he could wrap his brain around it all.  

Slurping up a spoonful of the tasteless, tepid broth, his hand shaking 
only slightly, a sudden thought popped in his head.  

He was an X-File.

Somehow the reality did not excite him nearly as much as he had thought 
it would.  In fact, it was rather frightening.  The spoon thunked 
noisily back into his bowl as his hand dropped, and he pushed the 
rolling table away from him, lip curling.  He had lost whatever bit of 
appetite he might have had.  

Mulder shifted his gaze from the contemplation of the tray's contents 
to the door of his room.  Half-hoping to see Scully return, half-hoping 
she would give him just a little bit longer.  He wasn't quite ready to 
ask his questions, or hear her answers, or learn whatever else she 
still had to tell him.

His head was starting to spin.  He gave the table another shove, until 
it was mostly clear of the bed, and sank back down against the pillows, 
his eyes slipping shut.

Spaceship.  Abducted.  Coma.  Pregnant.

Each word slammed into his mind with such force that he actually 
winced.  The images in his head were dark, terrifying.  Some he 
recognized as actual memories, others he hoped were just his fertile 
imagination, fueled by Scully's story, and not repressed memories of 
events that had really happened.

His eyes popped open again, and the images winked out.  He forced 
himself to relax, dropping his shoulders and loosening the hands he had 
unknowingly clenched into fists, and took slow deep breaths.

If he were at home, he'd be heading outside to jog himself into 
exhaustion.  It was the best way he knew to shut his mind down - to run 
until he could feel and think no more.

But he was not at home.  He was trapped in a hospital bed feeling as 
weak as a newborn kitten.  A kitten that was totally dependent on those 
around him.  Dependent on Scully.

Scully.

He would think about Scully, another trick of his when he was troubled. 
She did not know it, for he had never told her, but thoughts of her had 
gotten him through some very rough nights.  Hopefully it would work 
this time.  He blinked and let his eyes slip shut again.  

This time the picture that formed was a pleasant one.  It was of he and 
Scully spooned together on her bed, talking softly after a delightful 
round of passionate loving.  They were both naked, the sheet pulled 
carelessly over their lower bodies, and he was stroking his hand 
through her hair, making her smile.

Mulder smiled then as he lay on the hospital bed.  This was nice.  He 
would remember other moments like that while he waited for Scully to 
come back.

***

2:05 pm


Scully had decided she would take no more than half an hour when she 
left Mulder's room after his lunch had arrived, and glancing at her 
watch as she rode up the elevator, she saw that she had almost made it.  

In that rather tight time frame though, she had used the ladies room 
and freshened up a little, taken a very necessary walk to ease her 
cramped legs, and eaten a salad from the cafeteria.  She had also 
phoned the Gunmen and her mother, to update them on things.  She had of 
course called them all earlier that morning, to share the news that 
Mulder had finally awakened from his coma, but she had wanted to let 
them know that he was awake and alert, and doing well.  She also wanted 
to ask them to wait until later in the afternoon to visit.

Doing well.  Scully winced to herself as she walked down the hall to 
his room.  Somehow she doubted Mulder was 'doing well'.  She easily 
recalled the nearly desolate look that had entered his eyes several 
times during her recitation, and hated that she had been the one to put 
that look there.

She hated that she had left him alone as well, even if only for a short 
period of time.  But to be honest, she had needed a moment away from 
him and what she had told him.  She had used it to distance herself 
from the memories of the time he had been gone, brought to the fore 
with all their accompanying emotions, good or bad.  Because she knew 
Mulder so well, she also knew he had needed the time too.

At the door she paused only slightly before pushing at it with one 
hand, and stepping through.  Her mouth was open to greet him, but she 
snapped it shut and hesitated in the doorway when she saw him lying 
back with his eyes closed.  A deeper well of concern surged, and she 
started to turn to go back out and leave him in peace.  

His gravelly voice stopped her.  "S'okay, Scully.  I'm not sleeping, 
just resting my eyes and thinking."

On occasion in the past those words 'I'm thinking' from Mulder's mouth 
had worried her, annoyed her, and once in a rare while, interested her.  
Right now she had to go with worried.  She looked up to see him 
watching her, his face calm, and a little sad.  "Okay," she said 
slowly, unsure of what else to say.  Her hand slid from the door, 
allowing it to close, and she moved over to her chair and sat down with 
one of those annoying little grunts she could not prevent.

Mulder's smile was crooked, his eyes amused, and the sight lightened 
her heart just a tiny bit.  She smiled back at him, shrugging her 
shoulders.  She waved a hand over her belly and said, "This load isn't 
light, you know."

Now he wore a smirk.  "I can tell," he joked, waggling his eyebrows up 
and down at her.  

For a moment, it was just like old times.  And God, had she missed 
them, intensely and almost unbearably.  Her eyes welled rapidly, one 
lone tear beading on her lashes before slipping slowly down the curve 
of her cheek.  She sniffled, ducking her head, her hands coming up to 
dash the tears away.

"Sculleee..." He said her name whisper-soft.

She sniffled once more, huffed out a breath, and lifted her head to 
meet his sad, worried eyes.  "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said.  "You've 
just had to hear some very disturbing things, things that must have 
left you with so many questions, and I'm falling apart on you."

"No," he said.  "No, you're not falling apart on me, Scully.  I may not 
know the whole story yet, but I do know that as hard as it was for me 
to hear those things, it was equally hard for you to tell them.  And to 
have lived them."

Scully sighed harshly.  She hadn't meant for this to turn around and be 
about her.  "It was," she said a little gruffly.  "But you're back, and 
that's all that matters now."  She lifted her hand, stretched her arm 
out, and touched the back of his hand where it lay on the bed.  

He turned it, so that their hands were clasped palm-to-palm, and 
squeezed.

They sat silently like that for long moments, until Mulder cleared his 
throat and said, "I'm ready to hear the rest now."  One corner of his 
mouth lifted, and he quirked an eyebrow.   But then he frowned and 
quickly added,  "If you're ready to tell it."

She nodded.  "I'm ready."  She took a deep breath and began.  "As I had 
said before the nurse walked in, when you awakened from your coma, it 
was learned that you had the mentality of a child.  We...I didn't know 
what to do, the doctors could offer nothing, so I found a full-care 
nursing home for you."  

At the start of surprise Mulder gave, she nodded.  "In Arlington."  She 
squeezed his hand, silently communicating that she would tell him more 
another time, hoping he would understand.  He nodded, mouthing 'go on', 
so she continued.  "The other abductees had started to awaken from 
their comas, but they were all fine.  While in Oregon to see Ray Hoese, 
I was looking at all the medical files, and I noticed something 
strange.  I determined that their comas allowed their brain anomalies 
to heal, or disappear.  After consulting with your doctor, we had you 
medically induced into another coma.  When your EEG readout and CAT 
scans showed that the anomaly was gone, we removed the sedation.  You 
did not wake up though, not right away.  It was almost two days before 
you did."  Her voice had gotten raspy as she remembered her fear and 
despair.  "I was so scared, Mulder.  I thought I had done the wrong 
thing."  

The tears that had never really gone away began to fall, and she bent 
her head, shoulders shaking as she tried to contain her sobs.

"Hey," Mulder said, pulling his hand free from hers to rest it on her 
lowered head.  His hand stroked slowly through her hair, raising 
shivers and offering comfort.  

Her sobs slowed, turned into hiccupping sighs.  Again she brought her 
hands up to her face and wiped away the remnants of tears.  And all the 
while his hand moved through her hair.

Long moments later he spoke.  "Scully...God, I don't even know what to 
say, and I'm sure you've glossed over what you went through, and what 
you did for me.  I don't know if thank-you is enough, but you do have 
my thanks."  His hand slipped along her skull, brushing her hair aside 
so that he could cup her chin and tilt her head upwards.  When their 
eyes met again, he said, "And my love."

His grip tightened slightly on her jaw, not painful at all, and as he 
rose from his pillows and leaned towards her, she intuited that he 
wanted her to do the same.  She half-rose from her seat, her thighs 
trembling as they took all her weight awkwardly, and leaned into him, 
her head slanting to one side.

His slanted as well, in the opposite direction, and as she slowly 
closed her eyes, she saw him do the same.  Their lips met, softly, 
unerringly, in a sweet kiss that deepened into a little bit more.

Her hand lifted from where it had somehow become fisted around the top 
rung of the bedrail and moved to cup his cheek, while his slid up her 
face to slide back into her hair.

They both pulled back at the same time, easing up, and Scully opened 
her eyes to see Mulder looking at her.  She rubbed her lips lightly 
over his for a moment and then smiled a tiny smile.  "I missed this," 
she whispered.

"Scully?" he whispered.  "I love you."

"I love you too, Mulder.  So very, very much."  She grimaced then, for 
her legs and back were screaming.  "But as much as I'd love to stay 
like this, I have to sit down now," she said with a groan, and slumped 
back into her chair.

The baby kicked then, quite strongly, making her jump, and she looked 
up at Mulder.  "I think he or she is pretty happy right now."

"Just like his/her dad," Mulder said.

"Hey!" she protested.  "Don't forget me!"

"Never, Scully," he replied, reaching out to touch her cheek.  After 
she smiled, he added, "How about we save the questions for later?  And 
just sit here together, saying nothing at all."

"I'd love to," she replied.

So they did.

***

End Part 5 of 12