Title: To Build a Dream On
Author: ML
Email:  msnsc21@aol.com
Feedback:  I would love to hear from you
Distribution:  Ephemeral, Gossamer, and IWTB, yes; if you've archived 
me before, yes; if not, please drop me a line so I can come visit, 
and keep my name and email attached. Thanks.
Spoilers: through Existence
Rating: PG-13
Classification: S, Mulder POV
Summary: Have we earned our rest?  Have we suffered enough? 

Disclaimer:  I acknowledge that the characters depicted in this story 
are not mine.  They belong to CC, TenThirteen, and Fox, Inc.  I do 
this solely in homage to a show I love, without thought of profit or 
gain.  Thank you, Chris Carter, for giving us these wonderful 
characters to watch.  Thank you, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, 
for making them so watchable.

Many, many thanks to the wonderful people on IWTB, whose help and 
encouragement I value beyond words.  A few more acknowledgments at 
the end...

To Build a Dream On
by ML

I've missed so much in the past year.  I missed a large chunk of my 
life, and most of Scully's pregnancy.

Even after I came back, I deliberately distanced myself from Scully 
when everything in me demanded that I be there, truly be there, 
giving her all the support and love I could, making up for lost time.

I even missed the birth of our son.

I didn't like being apart from Scully at such a time, but for her 
future, for our future, I did what I thought I had to do to ensure 
her safety.

I know Scully thought that I believed the baby wasn't mine.  I'm sure 
she thought that I was doing all that investigating to prove that I 
wasn't the father.  Nothing could be farther from the truth; I wanted 
the baby to be mine, with absolutely no doubt.  I wanted to have the 
right to always protect him, and to be with his mother.  But it was 
not my place to tell the world I was the father; in fact, it was 
probably safer that the world not know.  I didn't want either Scully 
or her unborn child to be used as leverage against me.

I was afraid of the possibilities and what they would do to Scully if 
they turned out to be true.  It would be the final blow to discover 
that the child she carried was anything less than entirely human.

I know how it looked to the outside world, and how it must have 
looked to Scully.  Skinner asked me almost point-blank to confirm 
that I was in fact the father.  All I could tell him was that my 
doubts stemmed from the seeming impossibility of Scully conceiving 
naturally.

So, I told no one what I believed.  Not even Scully.  And she said 
nothing, though I could see the reproach in her eyes.  She said 
nothing, and I'm sure she thought I'd forgotten everything that had 
happened between us before I went away.

If she wanted more from me, she was too proud to ask for it.  I 
suppose the months of having to go it alone had reconciled her to the 
idea that she might be raising the baby alone.

It just about killed me, but I couldn't do what I wanted to do:  
reach for her, kiss her, reassure her that I loved her still, and 
that I remembered everything.  And that I wanted nothing more than 
just to be with her, and forget the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world wouldn't forget about us.  
Especially those with dual citizenship in our world and theirs.  What 
I wanted to know was, what form would this interest take?  And when?

While I figured out what to do, I hung around, keeping an eye on 
Scully.  I would show up at her place unexpectedly, make awkward 
jokes about the baby, and generally make an ass of myself.  Scully 
didn't seem to mind, though.  Sometimes she teased me back.  Other 
than that, she kept her own counsel.  She'd already had a couple of 
bad scares having to do with her pregnancy, and I think she was 
happier not discussing it, even with me.

I can't blame her for being in denial, and perhaps a little 
irrational, not to mention annoyed with me for not accepting her word 
that the baby was fine, was normal, was everything she wanted it to 
be.  Our roles were reversed in this situation.  Her overwhelming 
desire, no, *need* to believe that the baby was okay superseded any 
other consideration, at least in my point of view.  So I tried to 
keep my investigation private, and my doubts to myself.  And I tried 
to be what Scully seemed to want me to be:  a supportive friend, and 
maybe nothing more.

I filled in my time by bugging Doggett about the X-Files, trying in 
an indirect way to prepare him for going it alone.  Not that I set 
out to get myself fired; but as soon as I heard Kersh was in charge 
again, I knew my days at the FBI were numbered.  And frankly, I could 
see that my usefulness there had its limits.  I'd always told myself 
I needed the Bureau's resources to be able to investigate.  That 
seemed to be less true now; working in an official capacity had 
become more of a hindrance.  As long as I had access to Doggett, and 
to Skinner, I could pursue extreme possibilities on my own time, and 
enlist the help of officialdom when necessary.

Once the baby was born, I would have other things to occupy me, I 
felt certain.  One way or another, the birth of the baby was a 
signpost.  I just wasn't sure what it pointed to yet.

I was waiting for a sign, I guess, so when I saw the news footage of 
the fire at Zeus Genetics, I had to go investigate.  I didn't tell 
Scully what I was looking into.  I didn't want to upset her any more 
than she'd already been upset, or have her jump to the wrong 
conclusions.  Unfortunately, when Billy Miles jumped me at the 
clinic, the only place Doggett could think to take me was Scully's.

She patched me up, and heard the whole sordid tale.  I'm not sure 
what she thought of me at that point.  Did she really think I was 
trying to disprove paternity?  I tried to let her know I just wanted 
to protect her.  I thought I could do it by myself, but as Scully's 
due date approached, and I heard more and more conflicting theories 
and information, I knew that we had to get her away from DC.  I knew 
I had to get her away from me, just in case.  There was still a risk 
having her too close to me.

There was no time to even say goodbye properly.  It was like Oregon 
all over again.  But I hoped for a better outcome.  We had more 
allies than before, but could a handful of us prove strong enough 
against such overwhelming odds?

I ached to be with Scully.  I wanted to erase any doubt from her mind 
about my feelings for her, and what I wanted for our future.

I wanted to be there for the birth of our child.  Hell, I even went 
to Lamaze classes with her, though she told me Frohike had 
volunteered.  I hoped she was joking, and that it was really her 
mom.  The films they showed in class were almost as bad as some of 
the autopsies I've seen, but I steeled myself.  For Scully.

Turned out it was all for nothing, after all.  While Scully and Agent 
Reyes were trapped in some little backwater (*no* water, more like 
it) hellhole, fending off who knows what, I was stuck in DC.  Doing 
what I thought was necessary at the time.  I realized almost too late 
that my place was with Scully, no matter what.  With the clarity of 
hindsight, I can see now that what I thought was important and 
necessary was meant to throw me off the track, to trick me or someone 
into revealing Scully's whereabouts.  And it almost got me killed 
again.

I'm sure Scully would have let me stay dead, this time.

All the way down to Georgia, I was having flashbacks to Antarctica.  
The same thoughts and fears ran through my head.  WhatifI'mtoolate, 
whatifI'mtoolate...I could feel it in the throb of the airplane 
engines, the whine of the helicopter blades, the beating of my heart.

I was almost too late.  When I saw the cars below me from the 
helicopter, I feared that I *was* too late.  But for some reason, 
they--whoever they were, whatever side they're on--left without a 
fuss, without confrontation.  Fortunately Agent Reyes saw me and 
called to me before I went entirely nuts.

"You've got to get her to the hospital," Agent Reyes said, and I 
feared the worst.  I braced myself for it as I entered the dim little 
building.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust and to see Scully, lying 
propped up on some sort of daybed.  She was so pale, her lips 
practically as white as her skin.  Bloody towels lay everywhere.  
There was a smell of iron, of heat from more than the hundreds of 
candles burning or the wood stove.  She clutched a bundle to her, her 
eyes glazed and glittering with a fierce warning light.  Her hair 
hung in damp strands around her face and her teeth were bared 
threateningly.  I half expected her to snarl and growl as I 
approached her in the half-light of the room.

I'd never seen a more beautiful --or more terrifying-- sight in my 
life.

I slowed my steps and approached cautiously, giving her time to see 
me.  "Hey, Scully," I called to her softly.  "What have you got 
there?"

"Mulder," she whispered as she recognized me.  She still looked 
hunted.  Her breath was coming in gasps, and I could hear the baby 
wailing quietly to itself.  It certainly sounded human to me.

I knelt beside her and smoothed her hair back.  I opened the folds of 
the blanket and saw two very human eyes and a red, wrinkled 
forehead.  I felt...I'm not sure what I felt.  I had been certain 
that Scully's baby was human, or "more human than human" to quote the 
late, unlamented Krycek, but seeing it with my own eyes, confirming 
its existence, meant more to me than getting the key to the entire 
alien conspiracy, delivered by Kersh on a silver platter.  I think 
that I forgot to breathe for a minute.  Here was a life I helped to 
create.  I wished I'd been there sooner.  I wished...so many thoughts 
and wishes and dreams streamed through my mind in the space of an 
instant.

Another small snuffling noise from our baby roused me from my trance, 
reminding me of where I was and what I had to do.  Scully needed me.  
I stroked her cheek.  

"Scully, we gotta get you out of here.  Can you get up at all?"

"I--I don't think so, Mulder."  Her voice was barely above a whisper, 
and it sounded raw, like she'd been screaming at the top of her 
lungs.  I realized she probably had been.  I felt terribly inadequate 
in that moment.  I don't know how I could have helped her during the 
birth of the child, other than reminding her to breathe and maybe 
shooting anyone who got too close to her, but I wished I had been 
there.

I wondered what all those people--if people they were--had been 
doing, and why they left so peaceably.  Had Billy Miles been among 
them?  What was his imperative?  I thought that both Rohrer and 
Krycek had, as usual, revealed some half-truths.  I never doubted 
government involvement, and I'd known for a long time that government 
operatives were involved in Scully's abduction.  Doggett relaying 
what Rohrer told him only confirmed what I'd long believed.  At least 
in part.  Some of what he said still wasn't proven, as far as I was 
concerned.

I still didn't know what to think about the replicants.  Were there 
good replicants and bad replicants?  Or were they impelled by some 
need or desire that I could only guess at? 

From the sounds outside, the copter had finally managed to land.  
There was an EMT on board, but I couldn't stand idly by and let him 
do all the rescuing.  And Scully needed to be moved out of there, 
sooner rather than later.

"I don't want to hurt you, Scully, but we have to get going,"  I told 
her, and I scooped my arms under her and picked her up, baby and all.

She gasped and shuddered and I rubbed my cheek against her 
hair.  "You're gonna be fine, Scully, but we've gotta get you and 
Junior to the hospital."  I headed for the door, where I was met by 
Agent Reyes and the EMT.  Between them, they'd managed to get the 
gurney off the helicopter.  We'd had to travel as light as possible, 
since I hadn't been sure how far we'd have to search for Scully's 
location.  Hence, only one EMT and the bare minimum of equipment.  I 
prayed what we had was enough.

Scully wouldn't let go of the baby, not for anything.  No amount of 
cajoling swayed her.  Once we were airborne, the EMT checked them 
both out as best he could.  "She's still bleeding," he shouted over 
the noise of the propellers.

Call me a coward, but I couldn't look.  I sat with my back to him, 
holding Scully's hand, my arm partly around her and the baby.  Her 
eyes were wide and frightened, and she clutched at me and the baby so 
hard I found crescent-shaped marks on my wrist later.

The EMT shouted some things at me.  I caught the word "placenta" and 
some other things.  He started a drip for Scully, and put an oxygen 
mask on her.  She didn't fight it, so maybe my presence helped calm 
her a little.  I finally managed to loosen her hands from the baby 
just a little, and held them while the EMT unwrapped Scully's little 
bundle and looked him over.  I lifted Scully up so she could see what 
he was doing.  I watched too as the EMT unwrapped the baby and I 
could see that he was indeed very human, and very male.  The EMT 
nodded and gave me a thumbs up, and wrapped him back up again.  
Scully never took her eyes off of him, and she reached for him again 
as soon as I let her.

Things happened very quickly once we landed at the hospital.  Several 
medical personnel were waiting when we landed.  Once again, someone 
tried to take the baby, and once again Scully fought them.  I stood 
beside her and made them all back off.  I walked beside Scully all 
the way down, and kept my hand over hers holding the baby.

When we finally got downstairs, I leaned down to Scully.  "Let me 
take him, Scully.  Not away--" I added quickly, as her eyes grew wide 
and panicked again under the mask,  "just right here."  Someone 
intelligently put a bassinet right next to her.  "I'll stand right 
here, I won't let anyone take him," I promised her.  She nodded, and 
with the help of a nurse, I picked up our child for the first time 
and carefully placed him on the bassinet.  

Someone from behind me helped me shrug out of my coat and put a 
plastic smock over me.  The nurse stood to one side so that Scully 
could see her baby at all times while they examined both of them.  I 
stood watch too, right at the head of the bassinet, never taking my 
eyes off the baby as they took off the swaddling and examined him.

I was amazed at the staff here.  All the times we'd visited hospitals 
and emergency rooms as patients, we'd always received good treatment 
as far as our injuries were concerned, but most of the staff were 
pretty cavalier about the uninjured partner, especially when it was 
me.  Of course, I usually was doing something that would not endear 
me to the staff--demanding to see a doctor, demanding answers, 
demanding attention for my partner.  The people here seemed to know 
instinctively that Scully needed to see her baby, needed to have him 
right there.  No one even suggested he be taken to the nursery or 
anywhere else.  I wondered later, when there was time, if they 
somehow knew how special this baby is--and how special his mother is, 
too. 

Scully was conscious the whole terrible time they worked on her.  I 
don't know how she managed.  I couldn't be close enough to her to 
touch her, but I held her with my eyes.  Her gaze flicked from me to 
the baby, me to the baby, over and over again.

One of the doctors took me aside.  "Are you the father?"

"Yes."  With that simple word, I acknowledged it out loud for the 
first time.  I looked over at Scully, who was looking at her baby.  
The nurses were checking all the wires and tubes she was now 
connected to, but she was still awake and alert.  I don't think she 
heard me, though.

"She's lost a lot of blood, but she's stabilized now.  What can you 
tell me about the conditions of the birth?"

I thought swiftly about all the things I *could* tell him but decided 
for once that I would take the easy way out.  "She and a friend got 
lost and she started having labor pains.  The baby was born in an 
abandoned house, with no running water or electricity.  And her 
friend had never assisted at a birth before."  I just barely 
refrained from saying "she didn't know nothin' about birthin' 
babies."  This was Atlanta, after all. 

"Were you there during the birth?"

I shook my head.  "As far as I know, it was just the two of them." 

The doctor nodded.  "Well, for a couple of amateurs, they did 
everything as right as could be expected.  Your wife should recover 
just fine."

I didn't bother to correct him.  "And the baby?"

"He's fine and healthy.  Not a mark on him, passed the Apgar with 
flying colors, everything appears to be okay."

I looked over at Scully.  "Did you tell her?  She needs to know."

The doctor nodded again.  "She asked me to tell you."  He smiled a 
little and walked back over to Scully, saying a few words to her and 
to the nurses before leaving. 

They gave us a private room on the Neonatal wing.  I discovered as 
they moved us down the corridor that the staff who attended Scully 
were actually part of the NICU team, and that was where Scully was 
examined, not the ER.

I made sure that the baby's crib was in Scully's line of sight and 
parked myself beside her.  I took her hand and squeezed it.  "You can 
sleep now, Scully," I said softly.  "The baby's not going anywhere."

"Don't you go anywhere either," she said, and I nodded.

"I'll be right here, keeping an eye on you and the baby,"  I promised 
her.  "Go to sleep." 

She still fought it, though her eyes were drooping.  "Where's Agent 
Reyes?" she asked suddenly.

"She's on her way, I'm sure," I soothed her.  "She had to drive here, 
but she knew where we were headed."

"I need to talk to her, I need to tell her..." Scully's eyes closed 
briefly and then opened again.

"It's okay, you'll see her when she gets here," I said softly.  I 
stroked the back of her hand.  "Just relax, Scully."

At last she began to drop into sleep, which unfortunately didn't last 
long, as someone else made his wants known.  For a little guy, he 
sure had a set of lungs on him.

Scully's eyes flew open again and she began reaching for him.  "He's 
hungry, Mulder.  I have to feed him."

I started to back out the door.  "I'll go get the nurse."

Scully smiled tiredly.  "I know what to do, Mulder.  Just hand him 
over."

I picked up the squalling infant and handed him carefully to Scully.  
I helped her sit up and got a pillow for her to rest her arm on, and 
watched in fascination as she arranged him to her liking and held his 
head to her breast, where he began to nurse enthusiastically.

I felt a really stupid grin spread over my face.  Like father, like 
son.  We have similar tastes.

Just about then the nurse came in.  "You should have called me," she 
admonished me gently.

I shrugged a little and smiled at her.  "I was overruled."

"So I see," she smiled back.  I wondered briefly if Scully would like 
to live in Atlanta.  From where I stood, it seemed like a very nice 
place.

The nurse walked over to Scully and checked to see if everything was 
working as it should.  Satisfied, she smiled at me again and 
asked, "Is there anything I can get you folks?"

I nodded toward Scully.  "Is it too late to get her something to 
eat?  I'm guessing she missed dinner."

"I'll see what I can do," she said with another smile, and walked out 
again.

At long last, with all parties fed, Scully couldn't fight it anymore 
and fell into an exhausted slumber.  Even so, for a while her eyes 
would open periodically and seek out the crib, then they would droop 
shut again.

I sat in a chair facing the bed and the crib.  Despite the fact I'd 
had little sleep over the past several days, I felt wide awake.  
Instead, I simply let my eyes rest on Scully and thought back over 
not just the events of the past few days, but everything that had 
brought us to this point.

Have we earned our rest?  Have we suffered enough?

I thought back over the years of our partnership, what we'd seen, 
what we tried to do.  Of the toll it took not only on us, but those 
around us.  The sacrifices made, willingly or unknowingly, by friends 
and families and even people unknown to us.  Never knowing who to 
trust, except each other.

I thought about those friends who'd survived so far with us.  
Frohike, Langly, and Byers.  Skinner, who'd proved to be the 
staunchest ally we could have hoped for, and gave lasting proof 
earlier that night when he dispatched Alex Krycek.  And maybe now, I 
could include John Doggett and Monica Reyes.  

Agent Doggett was another reluctant recruit to the X-Files.  I 
wondered at the working relationship he and Scully must have had, and 
it made me smile.  Scully would have been forced into defending our 
work, and I'd have paid good money to see just one argument between 
them.

Agent Reyes, I knew even less about than Agent Doggett, but she had 
risen in my estimation by her care for Scully.  She reminded me, 
oddly, of Scully's sister.  Believer though I've always been, Melissa 
Scully's brand of mysticism was one that was hard for me to buy 
into.  I could see something similar in Monica Reyes.  It remained to 
be seen if it would be a help or a hindrance.

I wondered if Scully would want to go back to the X-Files, now.  Or, 
if she'd even want to go back to the FBI.  I had mixed feelings about 
it.  Above all, I wanted her safe, and the baby safe.  I wasn't sure 
how safe either of them  would be if she went back to work.  Possibly 
this had already occurred to her.  If not, we would have to talk 
about it once the dust settled a bit.  Once I knew if she wanted my 
involvement, and was prepared to listen to me.

I hoped that the worst was over, and that we would have at least a 
little breathing space before the next big crisis occurred.

Looking at Scully and the baby, I wondered again, have we earned our 
rest?  Have we suffered enough?

I thought I knew what the answer was, but it wasn't my call.

-x-x-x-

When Agent Reyes walked in later, Scully was still asleep, as was the 
baby.  I joined her outside the room.

"Did you call Skinner?"  I asked her.  "My cell phone suffered a 
casualty."

She nodded.  "He told me.  He's on his way down here."  She gestured 
toward Scully's room.  "How is she?  How's the baby?"

"They're both doing fine," I reassured her.  "The doctor said you did 
everything right."

She half-smiled.  "I was so scared...all those people... and Dana 
screaming, begging me to keep them away from her baby...if they 
hadn't left, I don't know what I would've been able to do to stop 
them.  I almost failed her."  She shook her head.  "I don't know what 
I would have done if you hadn't gotten there."

I glanced into Scully's room to make sure that both she and the baby 
were still sleeping.  I dragged a couple of chairs over right next to 
Scully's door.

"Tell me what happened," I urged Agent Reyes.

Agent Reyes finished her recounting just as Skinner and Doggett 
appeared.  Both looked a little the worse for wear, but considering I 
left Skinner contemplating the body of Alex Krycek, and Doggett 
either being pursued or in pursuit of alien replicants, they looked 
pretty good.

Skinner's first words were, "How is she?"

"She's doing okay," I told him.  "And so is the baby."

Both Skinner and Doggett stopped dead in their tracks, poleaxed by 
what I gathered was unexpected good news.

Skinner still seemed to be having trouble believing it.  "The 
baby's...?"

"He's fine," I repeated.  "Thanks to Agent Reyes."  My newly attuned 
ear could hear him even as I spoke, starting to make what I assumed 
were hungry noises.  According to what I'd read, the time was about 
right for him to need feeding again.  "Excuse me," I left them 
standing in the hallway as I went in to pick up the baby and to rouse 
Scully a little.

Her eyes flew open and she tensed until she saw it was me.  "Is 
everything okay?"  she asked groggily.

"Yeah, everything's good, except someone's hungry," I told her.  I 
helped her arrange herself again.  I was getting pretty good at this.

Once mother and child were settled, I turned and saw the audience at 
the door.  All three stood and stared like they'd never seen a new 
mother before.  Doggett and Skinner had the grace to turn away from 
the intimate spectacle, but Agent Reyes stared until Skinner put his 
hand on her arm and pulled her away.

I shut the door and sat by the bed, watching Scully's face watch the 
baby as he nursed.  I didn't think I would ever get tired of the 
sight.

"You up to some visitors?"  I asked softly.

Her eyes met mine, wide with panic again.  She clutched the baby 
convulsively, who let out a wail at being interrupted.

"It's okay, Scully," I soothed her again.  "It's just Skinner, and 
Agents Reyes and Doggett."

Scully relaxed again and re-settled the baby.  "I'm sorry, I'm 
just...I'm still so afraid, Mulder," she said.

"Maybe what I've got to tell you will help set your mind at rest a 
little," I said, and I told her what Agent Reyes told me.  How the 
alien visitors had crowded into the room, but somehow maintained a 
certain distance throughout the birth.  How, at the baby's first cry, 
all turned as one and filed out again, never approaching nearer than 
they already had.  None had spoken, except for Ranger Alien, Reyes 
had told me.  And all she'd done was insist that the baby would be 
born.  I couldn't say I understood any of it, except that they no 
longer seemed to pose a threat to our baby.

Scully took all this in silently, tears trickling down her cheeks.  I 
figured I might as well get it all over with, and I told her about 
Alex Krycek too.

When I told her, I saw that fierce light in her eyes again.  "I'm 
glad he's dead," she said unexpectedly.  "And I'm glad Skinner was 
the one to do it."

When I opened the door again, only Skinner was standing there.  "I 
sent them downstairs," he said.  "They're filling each other in.  I 
hope you'll do the same for me."

Skinner and I filled each other in on what happened after I left the 
garage to go to Scully.  The whole time, though, Skinner's eyes kept 
flicking to Scully's door.

"You should go in and see for yourself," I told him.

"Are you sure it's okay?"  he asked.  He seemed more scared of what 
he would find in Scully's room than he did when he faced down Krycek.

"It's fine," I said again.  "Go on in, Scully wants to see you."

He got as far as the door before he turned back to me.  "Mulder," he 
said, searching my face.  "Are you okay with this?"

"Hey, if Scully's happy, I'm happy," I said flippantly.

He looked as if he wanted to say more, then he shook his head and 
went in.

I hung out in the hallway until Skinner came back out.  His eyes 
looked a little watery.  I waited patiently for him to say something.

"Cute kid," he said gruffly, and stalked down the hallway to find 
Doggett and Reyes.

-x-x-x-

Scully was released from the hospital the very next day.  I barely 
had time to call her mother and the Gunmen to tell them where we 
were, and that she and the baby were okay.

Scully's mom was waiting at her apartment when we got there.  I 
slipped out before either Scully or her mom noticed I was gone.  I 
figured I'd call later to make sure everything was okay.

There was a message on my machine when I got back to my 
place.  "Mulder, it's me.  Where are you?"

It made me smile to hear those words I'd heard in so many contexts 
over the years.  I called her back immediately.

-x-x-x-

When I let myself into her apartment the next day, I stood and 
listened for her voice, or the baby's.  Instead, I heard male 
voices.  At least they were voices I recognized.

Byers, Langly, and Frohike surrounded me.  It was unspoken, but they 
wanted to hear it.  Was the baby mine?  Was I going to acknowledge 
it?  Langly attempted to find out once before, in his own crude way.  
He managed to help me wound Scully once again on that day.  I think 
Frohike gave him what for later; the comment has never been repeated.

They could, and probably already have, hacked into the database for 
the hospital in Atlanta where my name was on the birth certificate as 
the father.  But they won't take that as proof; they knew I would 
say, and do, anything to protect Scully and the child.  They wanted 
to hear it from me.

I said nothing, and they stuck to safer subjects, asking how I came 
to find Scully and rescue her in the nick of time.  

"There was a light," I said simply.  "I followed it."  What I don't 
say is that the light was Scully.  She has always been my light.  I 
felt the pull of her.  I would have found her as surely as I did in 
Antarctica.

Now I stand outside her bedroom door.  The moment of truth has 
arrived.  One way or another, I will find out what Scully expects of 
me, what she wants of me.  I hope that she has forgiven me and 
understands why I acted the way I did.  She will either throw me out, 
or I will have earned the right to stay forever.  

I enter the light-filled room tentatively.  It's such a contrast to 
the room in Democrat Hot Springs.  But one thing is the same.  Scully 
is its luminous center.

She approaches me with our baby in her arms, and allows me to hold 
him.  This is the first time she has willingly let go of him in my 
presence.  Sure, I picked him up and gave him to her in the hospital, 
but only because she couldn't do it herself.  This is entirely 
voluntary.  It is proof of trust.

I want proof.  I want proof not that I am the father, but that it's a 
role Scully wants me to take.  I ask her what she wants to name the 
child, signaling to her that it's her call, that I will abide by what 
she says.

She tells me, "William," looking at him in my arms.  Then she raises 
her true blue eyes to mine, and adds, "after your father."  Those 
three words do more to tell me what she believes, and what she wants, 
than any number of impassioned declarations of need and want.

By naming our son, she has already told me how she feels about me, 
and what she knows is the truth.  I tell her with my eyes how I feel 
about his name, even as I make one more joke about his paternity.  
Scully shakes her head and smiles.  It's what she expects from me, 
even if it's not what she hopes.

She tries to tell me now that she understands my doubts and fears--
that she had them, too.  She is helping the last vestiges of mine to 
fade away.  I listen to her intently, looking for the right words to 
say to convince her of what I know and what I feel.

"I think we were afraid of the possibilities, Scully," I tell 
her.  "The truth, we both know," and my voice almost breaks on the 
last word.  I hope the look I give her conveys what I mean.  I want 
her to understand, I need her to understand, what I mean.

Now with her own words and demeanor she demands from me the truth I'm 
referring to.  This is the Scully I know and love--asking for proof 
from me.  She deserves the truth.  I owe her that.  I owe her so much 
more than that.

Words won't be enough for her, I realize.  I lean forward, intent on 
just brushing her lips, a promise that in the very near future I will 
exert myself to really show her what I mean.

But the feel of her lips touching mine tips me forward both mentally 
and physically and I move my mouth more firmly against hers.  An 
unexpected tremor thrills through me as her hand slides along my arm 
to grasp my elbow.  I need the steadying influence--I don't think 
I've ever felt such joy in my life as courses through me now.  I wish 
I could be holding Scully in my arms as well, but not for anything 
will I relinquish my hold on our son.

Scully's other hand comes up against the crook of my arm.  Without 
breaking contact, she guides us carefully to sit on the bed.  Now we 
are sitting side by side on Scully's bed.  I have one arm around her, 
and together we are holding our baby as we continue to kiss.

Little by little I manage to edge all three of us up the bed until 
Scully and I are half-reclined against the piled pillows.  William 
rests between us, and he seems content with the way things are 
going.  He makes his little inquiring noises, something between a 
chirp and a grunt, while his mom and dad make out above him.  
William's vocal interjections make me smile against Scully's lips, 
which makes her smile.  We continue to gently kiss, and William 
continues his soft commentary.  We are each content to be with the 
two other people who mean the most to us in the world.

Doggett asked me if my search would ever end.  He seemed puzzled that 
I'd given so much of my life to, what seemed to him, a hopeless 
quest.  At the time he asked me, I couldn't give him an answer.  I 
could only reply that maybe it wouldn't end.  Then, I still feared 
the outcome for Scully and the baby, and myself.

What he didn't know, and I couldn't tell him, is that I've found my 
truth.  It's been right there, alongside me, for years.  But never 
like this.  Scully and I have both found the answers we sought, and 
it is a greater truth, a sweeter realization, than I could have hoped 
for or even dreamed of.

Here in this light-filled room, I realize that it's not the end of my 
quest, but a new start for it.  It's no longer only my quest, it has 
truly become ours.  We have new things to discover now, Scully and 
I.  There are still obstacles to overcome, questions to be answered, 
and a world to save.  But not right now.  We have earned our rest.  
Time enough tomorrow to don the armor once again, and enter the fray.

end.

Many thanks to MBush's analysis of the mytharc and the relationship, 
which helped me to greater insight when I found myself questioning 
what I saw.  If you want to see for yourself, check out 
http://66.78.20.184/TheMytharcIntro.htm

Thanks to Kimpa, my stories can be found at
http://www.kimpart.com/mlfic.html

You can email me at: msnsc21@aol.com