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Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, his hands hanging between his knees and his fingertips tapping together nervously. Everything was changing. He stared at the closed bathroom door and swallowed down a wave of nausea and anxiety at what he knew was taking place on the other side. He knew it was bordering on cruel for him to ask her do this, but it was the only explanation he could come up with. He didn’t want to think about the other thing that could be causing these symptoms in her.
He felt sick, like the world was imploding and he didn’t know what was real anymore. When he had handed her the brown paper bag thirty minutes ago, she had become angry, telling him that he knew it wasn’t possible and he was being ridiculous. If anyone else came to you with these symptoms, you’d suggest the same thing he had said calmly, trying to ignore the torment in her eyes. Torment that hadn’t long disappeared.Please, he’d said, do it and rule it out. Her eyes had closed as she relented and they drove back to the motel in silence.
That was fifteen minutes ago. He finally heard the flush of the toilet, running water and then the door opened and she was there, clad in a pair of navy cotton pyjama pants and a white tank top. He looked at her and could see the tears that were threatening to fall but he could also see the glimmer of hope that she was trying so hard to keep hidden. He hated himself for even asking her to do this, for giving her that sliver of hope. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. Regardless of the outcome, their lives were going to change, one way or another.
“Did you…?” His voice was full of guilt but she nodded and joined him on the bed, sighing deeply as she sat. Her thigh pressed against his, ensuring she was sitting as close to him as she could and slipped her hand into his to thread their fingers together. Mulder raised her hand to his mouth to press his lips against her knuckles.
“This is crazy.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but in the silence of the motel room, to Mulder’s ears, it sounded like she had screamed it at the top of her lungs.
“Now we wait?” Mulder asked. He lowered their tightly joined hands to his denim clad knee and glanced at the bathroom.
“Now we wait,” she confirmed.
Scully laid her head on his shoulder and stared at the pen sized piece of white plastic that sat on the bathroom counter, mocking her with its innocence as if it didn’t have total control. After everything she had been through, being told she would never have children, Mulder confessing he had found her ova and then the failed IVF a year earlier, sitting in a motel room in Oregon and waiting on a pregnancy test was the last thing she could have imagined for herself. She couldn’t help but feel like this was one big joke by the universe; make the barren woman do a pregnancy test, just to mess with her head a little bit more. She wiped a stray tear away from her cheek and wondered what she could have possibly done in her life to deserve this.
“Hey,” Mulder murmured, pressing his lips into her hair, “whatever happens, whatever the outcome… I’m here. We’re in this together.”
Scully turned her head and rested her chin on his shoulder as she took some steadying breaths. As hard as she was trying, she couldn’t help but think about what the outcome may be. For almost three years she had lived with the fear that her cancer would return, despite the chip in her neck seemingly keeping it at bay. Now that the Syndicate were all gone and CGB Spender had apparently disappeared from the face of the earth, the worry that there was nobody left to maintain the chip was with her all the time. Not that she would ever confess that to Mulder. She knew he carried enough guilt with him over her cancer fight and the last thing she wanted to do was add to it.
She looked up at him with wet eyes as she breathed in the oh so familiar scent of him. It was the sandalwood and musk shower gel he’d used a few hours earlier and the Hugo Boss aftershave he’d sprayed before they went to dinner and the scent of his skin. She would recognise it anywhere and it always made her feel safe and protected. Eighteen months ago, she would have railed against his concern, keeping him at arms length and telling him I’m fine. Eighteen months ago, she would have kept her symptoms a secret from him, preferring to deal with them alone and only tell him when it became absolutely necessary. But things had changed on a cold January day eighteen months earlier and now, she wasn’t alone anymore.
“Thank you,” she whispered, prompting him to look at her and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Mulder smiled lightly but she could see the unease behind it. It was the same unease she was certain resided in her own eyes and it left her feeling as though she were adrift on a rough ocean, floating far out to sea where she would eventually succumb to the waves and drown in her emotions. But as she looked at him, behind the unease, she could see the security that he offered and she drew strength from the feelings that radiated from him like a furnace. They tethered her, drew her back to a safe harbour and anchored her firmly to him.
“Do you think we should check to see whether it’s…” Mulder asked, glancing anxiously over at the brightly lit bathroom.
Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest at the prospect of going back into the bathroom. Her life was mere seconds away from changing, one way or another. Nodding slowly, she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her thighs and stood. On shaky legs, she crossed the room to the bathroom, only vaguely aware that she wasn’t alone. She cast a quick glance at Mulder in the mirror above the sink to find him standing in the doorway, his hands in his jean pockets and chewing on his lower lip. There were no smiles from him this time. There was nothing but anxiety, fear and a splash of hope residing there.
Scully licked her lips anxiously and looked down at the test that lay face down on the sink unit. Her hands shook as she reached for it and her eyes drifted shut for a second before she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. The courage she was lacking arrived with just his touch. She took a deep and shaky breath and then lowered her eyes and flipped the test over to look at the screen.
Her knees buckled and she grabbed the faux marble sink unit with her free hand as a strangled cry escaped from her throat. Mulder moved quickly to catch her before she hit the floor and lowered her to the toilet and helped her sit on the closed lid, still unaware of what the result had been. He took in the tears streaming down her face and the sobs heaving from deep inside and reached for her hand that held the test. She offered it out to him and watched his face as he looked at it for himself, seeing the variety of emotions cross his handsome features, running from confusion through to surprise and finally realisation when he looked up at her.
“You… you…” he rubbed his mouth and collapsed onto the floor onto his butt, still holding the piece of plastic in his hand. “Scully…” he breathed, watching as she nodded. “You’re having a baby… we’re having a baby?”
She let out a sob that was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “We’re having a baby,” she agreed, not quite believing it for herself.
“Oh my god… holy shit…”
Mulder raised up and knee walked the space between them and pulled her into his arms. Scully wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his neck as he held her tightly and murmured her name and the name of a God he was beginning to believe in, over and over again. He couldn’t believe that after the IVF disaster a year earlier that this was happening. Up until just over a year ago when she had come to him and asked him to provide the other half of the genetic material for the IVF, Mulder had never thought seriously about being a father. His own childhood had been filled with misery and unhappiness after his sister had disappeared and he had vowed that he would never bring a child into the world and allow history to repeat itself.
That was until he met Scully. Several years earlier, during the Peacock case, after a discussion about their own family genetics, he had told her that he’d never seen her as a mother before then. Truth be told, he had never imagined himself as a father before. He had never found a woman he could ever seriously consider having a child with.
But that all changed when Scully had tearfully confessed to him that she couldn’t have children. He had felt his heart break, not just for her, but for him too. He had always imagined that one day, one day, they would end up together and start a family with one another. It felt right whenever he was with her and suspected that she felt the same. But then, knowing her chance at motherhood was stolen from her, he knew his chance to be a father had also ended. If he couldn’t have children with her, be with her in every possible way, he didn’t want them at all.
And then, a glimmer of hope in the darkness of their lives. She had asked him to help her have a child. He could refuse her nothing and despite them only having turned their relationship physical six months earlier, he said yes. What else could he say? He loved her too much to break her heart and prevent her having the one thing she truly wanted. Even though he knew that a successful round of treatment would lead to a child being brought into the world, their child, and would inevitably lead to her leaving the X-Files – how could she work in a dangerous department that involved flying off to the other side of the country at a moments notice when she, they, had a baby to care for – he still couldn’t say no.
They had one shot, only one viable embryo to use and the day that the transfer had taken place, she had wanted to be alone, didn’t want him to spend the night with her and while he didn’t truly understand why, he accepted it. So, feeling rejected and lonely and confused, he went straight to the nearest liquor store, bought a bottle of whiskey and drank three quarters of it on his sofa. His phone had never rung once and even though he had picked up his own phone numerous times throughout the night, he couldn’t bring himself to dial her number.
The next morning, hungover and feeling worse than he had in his life, he had looked at the bottle of whiskey, poured the contents away, had a shower and took a taxi over to her apartment. He had decided at some point of the morning that he deserved to be involved at every step and that included being there at the very beginning. When she opened the door to look at him, she looked as upset and tired as he felt but she stepped into his arms and they held each other tightly, making silent promises that things were going to change.
But the IVF had failed not long after, breaking both their hearts in the process. In her darkened apartment, foreheads pressed together and both trying to keep control of their emotions, he had told her not to give up on a miracle and told himself that he would uncover every stone in order to help her become a mother. And now, all these months later, their miracle had occurred and somehow they had managed to conceive the old fashioned way.
There were questions to ask, there had to be, but right now, none of it mattered. Right now, he pushed away every thought he had and focused them all on the woman in his arms. For right now, they were no different to any other couple who were trying to start a family. What they had been through was irrelevant. All that mattered was right now, each other and the dividing bundle of cells deep within her body.
Everything was changing and Mulder couldn’t wait to see what the future brought for them.