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It took a while, after he regained consciousness, to really focus on what was going on around him. His vision was fuzzy as ocular paths, not used for months, struggled to reconnect. There were several doctors - always doctors- bustling around him. Scully sat motionless in the chair next to his bed . He knew this was different than other times. He remembered being on the ship and the pain that he now refused to focus on lest echoes of it start rebounding through his body again. He felt stiff and his skin was cracked and bleeding in places.
He was focused on Scully’s face and her hand in his, but not the rest of her. She was just another body in the room. Then one of the nurses asked her to move so they could check his blood pressure and she stood up. He saw all of her.
He saw her very pregnant stomach. For just a minute he couldn’t see or hear and worried he was back on the ship, that this was all a dream. The pinch of the blood pressure cuff reminded him that this was actually happening. She noticed him looking and gave him a cautious smile.
He was struggling to make sense of it all. How long had he been gone? After an interminable period, the medical personal cleared out, promising to be back in 15 minutes to check on him. Then they were alone.
It was suddenly the quietest room Mulder had ever been in, even with beep and hum of various medical equipment.
“I…” he struggled to form words and coughed instead.
“Do you want some water?” she asked and jumped up as fast as she could with her considerably bulk. Halfway to her feet, she faltered for a moment and put a hand on her swollen belly. He watched, mesmerized, as she rubbed at a particular spot. When she realized he was staring her hand fell away and she grabbed the pitcher and a cup from a nearby table.
She filled the cup with slightly shaky hands and passed it to him. He took it and sipped, grateful to have a momentary delay while he grappled with the situation.
When the cup was empty, and he knew he couldn’t stall any longer, he handed it to her before relaxing back against the bed.
There was that silence again. He decided to try for something easy that would help clarify things immensely.
“Scully, when...what is the date?”
“It is February 8th.” Seeing he still looked unsure she added, “2001. You were abducted in May.”
Okay. So he had been gone months. Not years. But that could mean…
“Scully, how...when…” He would like to blame his inability to articulate his disjointed thoughts on his medical state, but really he was having trouble wrapping his head around the possibility that this could be THEIR child.
“So remember how sorry you were that you didn’t bring me back a souvenir from your trip to England to see those crop circles? And I told you it was no big deal?” She patted her belly.
Seeing the look of wonder come over his face, she added, “Oh good, you can still count backwards.” She gave a little laugh, but he could see the tears streaming down her face.
“This is our baby?” he asked. He needed to hear the actual words.
She smiled at him through her tears. “Ours, absolutely. Genetic typing via chorionic villus sampling and amniocentesis confirmed it.”
He was going to be a father. Even though they had done several rounds of IVF, it had never seemed real to him. They never talked about what his role would be and it always felt like this foreign thing. It always felt like he was just doing Scully a favor. He had never even entertained the idea of him being an actual parent. But, that was before they had been together.
Now...What did it mean now?
He reached his hand out to her, but she was too far away. He started to struggle to sit up before she realized what he was doing and moved to perch on the side of his bed.
He put a hand on her belly and was met with movement under his palm. She put her hand on top of his. “I think that was an elbow.”’
“So what happens now?” he wondered.
Scully licked her lips and looked slightly nervous.
“That’s up to you,” she said.