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Chapter Text

Saturday, October 20, 2001
Monica Reyes’ Apartment, Washington, DC
8:08 PM

Scully laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling of Reyes’ office cum guest room. 

When they’d set out on their cross country drive, Scully had imagined she would go back to her apartment and wait to hear from Mulder. She’d thought about organizing William’s things, tossing out the baby clothes that would be too small now, and maybe getting some new items for him – doing anything to keep herself busy while she waited. 

But then she remembered she didn’t have an apartment anymore – someone else lived in her home. 

“I guess I’ll stay with my mom,” Scully had said to Reyes and Doggett, somewhere in Nebraska. “I’m sure it will be a shock to her to find out we’re alive. She’ll probably like it if we stay with her.” 

In the front of the car, Doggett and Reyes had exchanged a look. “What?” Scully asked, after they were silent for too long.

“Your mom moved to San Diego. A month ago.” Reyes turned from the passenger seat to look at Scully. “But you can stay with me, if you want.”

Scully tried to smile in thanks, but she wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.

Now, as she counted the cracks in the plaster ceiling, she focused on the giant hole in her life. She didn't have a home, a job, her partner, her child. She couldn’t even go to her mother’s and tell her she was alive. She’d thought about calling, but she didn’t know how to have the conversation. It would be better in person. Her mom could hug her and cry, and Scully wouldn’t have to say anything. She’d just have to be there. 

They would go to San Diego when this was over, Scully reasoned. After all, they weren’t out of danger yet. It would be cruel to call her mom to tell her they were alive, just to have the Syndicate take them again the next day. 

Yes, Scully thought, it’s kinder not to let her know until it’s all settled. 

Scully rolled on her side to grab the burner cell phone the Lone Gunmen had given her before they’d left Oregon. It was fully charged, but there were no calls or messages. Just as it had been when she’d checked five minutes ago. 

Mulder was supposed to contact her when they had the artifact and were ready to use it on William. Scully hated this part of the plan – she would have to go to William to draw his blood and analyze it to see if the artifact was indeed changing his white blood cells. No one else in their group could do a blood draw on a baby (or an adult, for that matter). 

At this point the Syndicate had to be looking for them again. When they didn’t bring William in for his bone marrow biopsy yesterday morning, that would have set off alarms. Guards would have been sent to their house. They would have found Spender there, in the living room, half his head missing. 

Her stomach turned at the thought of Spender. She’d murdered him, plain and simple. Just like she’d murdered Pfaster. She was repulsed by her actions, that she could fire at an old man tied to a chair. But in that moment, she’d felt possessed, like someone else was controlling her body. Like when she’d killed Pfaster. 

Before, she’d wondered if something evil had possessed her. Maybe it wasn’t her that had sent a bullet into Pfaster’s brain, but an entity outside her control. But now she’d done it again. 

Was she an agent of evil? 

Or was she a person who could murder when pushed too far?

Scully looked at the burner phone again. She wondered what Mulder thought of her actions. She’d seen the look on his face after she’d killed Spender – one of disbelief. It was the same look he’d given her after Pfaster. Then he’d told her she didn’t have a choice. He’d lied on his report, saying that he didn’t have Pfaster under control.

Given what she’d done, Scully wondered if that was the wrong course. If Mulder should have told the truth, and she should have been tried for murder. She’d used excessive force, she’d gone against everything in her training. It was police brutality. She should have been punished for what she did, no matter how much better the world was for her having done it. 

She didn’t think she could be tried for murdering Spender. He would have to actually exist in order for a court of law to charge her. Maybe the Syndicate would seek vengeance. But she deserved that. She’d killed him out of vengeance. An eye for an eye, and all that. 

There was a soft knock on the ajar bedroom door. Monica pushed it open wider. “Hey,” she said, “ The Birdcage just started on TV, if you want to watch it with me.”

Scully didn’t want to watch a movie, but she also didn’t want to stay in here, staring at the cracks in the ceiling and stewing over the choices she’d made in life. She rose, grabbed the phone, and followed Reyes into the living room.

Saturday, October 20, 2001
Outside Monica Reyes’ Apartment, Washington, DC
10:32 PM

Krycek watched as the light in Reyes’ living room turned off. 

“What the hell are you up to?” he murmured, leaning back in the seat of his car. He’d been watching the apartment for several hours now.

Krycek wasn’t too surprised when he saw Scully head into Reyes’ apartment. Skinner and everyone else had conveniently disappeared right after he’d brought proof that Mulder and Scully were alive. Krycek had evidently let too much slip about their location, which hurt his chances of getting that stupid artifact back. He’d have to do some brute force threats, it would appear. 

He had everyone’s houses under surveillance, and what he found odd was that only Scully, along with the new agents, had returned. Mulder and the baby weren’t with her. Likely because she knew she could be tracked with the chip. But it did make him wonder what Mulder was doing with the baby – because it sure seemed like Scully was doing absolutely nothing. 

Krycek’s phone rang – it was Marita. “Yeah?” he said after pressing the talk button.

“Have you heard?” she asked.

Krycek assumed she was talking about Mulder and Scully escaping, but played dumb. “Heard what?”

“He’s dead.”

Krycek’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Who? Mulder? The baby?” Was that why Scully was alone?

“Spender.”

What the fuck. He looked back up at Reyes’ apartment in wonder. “How?”

“Shot in the head,” she replied. “He was found in Mulder and Scully’s house, but they’re gone.”

Holy shit, they’d finally killed him. Good for them. “Any fallout?”

“Not from his death. I think they’ve been trying to get rid of him for years. But they aren’t happy about the baby being gone.”

“How badly do they want the baby back?” Krycek asked. 

“Enough that the artifact issue may be forgiven if you find him.” With that, she hung up. 

Krycek sighed. He didn’t like the idea of kidnaping a baby. First off, he didn’t know how the hell to take care of one. Would he have to take Mulder or Scully as well just to keep the prize alive? 

Krycek sighed. He’d keep an eye on Scully for a few days, to see if she would lead him to Mulder. Without a lead, it would take significant legwork to track his query, and Krycek didn’t want to work that hard if he didn’t have to.

Sunday, October 21, 2001
Rented Live/Work Loft, Baltimore,  Maryland
11:47 AM

Mulder rocked William as he watched Frohike set up the portable crib. 

It had taken a day longer to make it across the country than Mulder had anticipated. It turned out that five and a half month old babies were not keen on spending long stretches in the car. It felt to Mulder as though they stopped every hour so he could try to get William to stop crying. And since he had been an unreliable passenger, they’d chosen to drive as much as possible while he was sleeping. Which meant Mulder had not seen a bed in four days. 

Until now. 

The Gunmen had rented a loft live/work space, under an alias. The already furnished space had three bedrooms, this one boasting a king size bed. Mulder wished Scully was here, so that once William was down he could hold her and drift off to sleep. Not to mention it would be nice to have help with the baby. His traveling companions had proven themselves generally useless in that arena. 

“God, I hope he stays asleep for a few hours,” he said to Frohike. “I feel like I’m about to drop.”

“The single dad life is hard, compadre,” Frohike replied, locking the last joint of the crib in place. 

“I’m not single,” Mulder huffed, laying William down in the crib. “We are just down a man.” 

Frohike clasped his shoulder. “I know. When are you going to contact her?” 

Mulder shrugged. Skinner had said he would get the artifact tomorrow, without explanation. Mulder assumed that meant wherever he’d stashed it, likely a safety deposit box, wasn’t open today. 

Delaying introducing his son to the artifact didn’t bother Mulder. His stomach turned at the thought of what he was about to do, as he recalled how the rubbings had affected him. He hoped William’s reaction to the artifact was like Krycek’s and Scully’s, not his own. 

Although the longer they waited, the longer he was without Scully. And the longer they were in danger.

“I think we should give it some time to work before having Scully come. We don’t know how long we’ll have once she’s here.” Mulder sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. “Now,” he said, lying down, “I’m going to do as they suggest and sleep when the baby sleeps.”

“I’ll wake you for dinner.” Frohike headed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“If William doesn’t beat you to it,” Mulder murmured, closing his eyes. 

With how exhausted he was, he’d thought drifting off to sleep wouldn’t take but a moment. But his body seemed to know that it wasn’t even lunch time yet, and fought him on the concept of sleep. His thoughts bounced around like a pinball, one moment he was worrying about William, how he would react to the artifact, would he be safe if this worked. And what would they do if he wasn’t? Would he have to go into hiding? Would it be without Scully?

The Gunmen seemed confident that they could make something that would block her chip from being tracked, but would that prevent it from holding the cancer at bay? What would they do if the cancer came back? Could he raise William alone? 

Mulder moaned as images of a life without Scully danced before him. He buried his face in the pillow and grumbled, “Mind, shut up and let me sleep.”

Chapter Text

Monday, October 22, 2001
Rented Live/Work Loft, Baltimore, Maryland
5:45 AM

Skinner headed down to the kitchen, freshly showered and shaved. He’d slept like a rock the night before, finally allowed a bed and nearly 20 hours of not having to be in a car. 

The drive across the country had been arduous at best. Skinner didn’t have much experience with babies, and the past four days with William hadn’t made him long for the unchosen path. It seemed like there was always something Mulder needed to do for the child – feeding, changing, entertaining. He could see that Mulder loved his son, but he could also see that a light was gone from his eyes, and Skinner wondered if it was just the exhaustion and worry from recent events, or something more. Because from where Skinner was sitting, being a father looked pretty rough, and he wondered if Mulder felt the same way. 

The smell of coffee permeated the lower level of the loft. Skinner knew why he was up this early – he had to drive to Richmond to get the artifact from the safety deposit box he’d stashed it in. The bank opened at nine, and he wanted to get this show on the road as soon as possible. But why was anyone else up? As he approached the kitchen, he could hear Mulder singing. William must have woken him up – yet another reason having a child seemed like a questionable choice in life.  

“And if I were the king of the world, tell you what I'd do, I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the war, and make sweet love to your mom. Yes I would make sweet love to your mom. Sing it now, joy–” Mulder stopped short as Skinner entered the kitchen. 

“I don’t think those are the words,” Skinner said, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

Mulder shrugged, still swaying with William. “Well, I’m not going to make sweet love to him ,” Mulder said, gesturing at the baby. 

“You could choose a more appropriate song. Like Rockabye Baby or something.” Mulder had been singing crazy songs at William for the past four days. The strangest was probably The Piña Colada Song, which was also the most memorable because that stupid song had been stuck in Skinner’s head for the next several hours. At least Joy to the World was a decent song. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Mulder took a sip of his own coffee. “You’re off?”

Skinner nodded. “I’ll be back around one.” 

Mulder’s expression turned dark, and he held William closer. Skinner could tell he was nervous about using the artifact on his son, and he didn’t blame him. Though they’d seen it work wonders on Krycek, and evidently also Scully, Skinner remembered those days that Mulder was out of his mind after seeing just the rubbings from the artifact. 

Mulder spoke, breaking into Skinner’s thoughts. “Would you mind holding him? I need to…” He gestured with his head towards the bathroom. “I may be a minute.”

Skinner nodded, and Mulder passed William to him. He was heavier than Skinner expected. He hadn’t held William since he was a newborn, as Byers had been Mulder’s go to for the last few days when he needed help with the baby. Skinner supposed of the four of them, Byers was the most ‘family man’ of the group. William watched his father leave, then turned to eye Skinner. His little eyebrows pinched together, as though he was considering if he should be alarmed by his new caretaker. He let out a little screech (which Skinner had learned was a happy sound), and reached out, planting both of his little hands on Skinner’s glasses. 

Skinner sighed as he looked at the baby through the smudges. He removed his glasses, and bounced a blurry William, hoping that Mulder wasn’t actually as full of shit as he could be metaphorically.

Monday, October 22, 2001
Rented Live/Work Loft, Baltimore, Maryland
1:38 PM

Mulder was reclined on the couch with William, asleep on his chest. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly was playing on the TV, and he was trying to eat a ham sandwich Frohike had made him without getting crumbs on his son’s head. He wasn’t succeeding. After trying to gently dust the crumbs off his son’s peach fuzz, he wondered if William would object to having his head dustbusted. 

The front door swung open, and Skinner entered, a large manila envelope in his hand. “I have it,” he said, heading over to Mulder. 

Across the room, the Gunmen were setting up their computers, along with the lab equipment Scully would need to analyze if the artifact was working. Frohike called, “I’ll bring down his crib, and set it up over here.”

Mulder watched as everyone worked around him, getting ready to introduce the artifact to his son. A weight pressed down on Mulder’s chest, and he stroked William’s back while taking a few deep breaths. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered, more to himself than his son. That was something to be grateful about – William had no idea what was happening. He could still grow up to be a well adjusted, successful person. Assuming that was possible with a father as fucked up and trauma laden as Mulder. 

Frohike came down the stairs, awkwardly maneuvering the crib. Skinner rushed over to help, while Mulder remained on the couch. He knew soon enough he’d have to get up and do this, but maybe if he just ignored it for a few more minutes, he could pretend it wasn’t happening. Mulder turned his attention back to the movie. It was the scene with the three way standoff in the cemetery. The camera switched between the three combatants, the music slowly rising to a crescendo. Finally, a move was made, and Clint Eastwood, the faster draw, takes out Angel Eyes. 

In the silence after the shot was fired, Skinner called, “Mulder, we’re ready when you are.”

Mulder rose, and after turning the TV off, joined the other men near the bank of computers and lab equipment. He slowly lowered William into the crib, trying not to wake him. He pulled back and waited, expecting William to start wailing from the loss of contact, but mercifully, he stayed asleep. 

Skinner picked up the envelope and removed the artifact. He held it out to Mulder.

Mulder shook his head and took a step back. Even though he’d touched the artifact six months ago, with no ill effects, he didn’t feel like taking the chance. Not when he was William’s only parent at the moment. “No, can you… can you put it on him?”

Skinner nodded, and Mulder held his breath as he put the artifact on William’s torso. The baby stirred, but otherwise showed no reaction. Mulder let out a long sigh. 

There was nothing to do now but wait.

Monday, October 22, 2001
Monica Reyes’ Apartment, Washington, DC
7:20 PM

“Dana, I’m back,” Reyes called as she opened the door to her apartment. She couldn’t see where Scully was, but given that she could hear the TV playing a rerun of Friends , she assumed she was lying on the couch. Exactly where she’d left her almost ten hours ago. 

They’d decided when they’d arrived back in DC that Scully should lay low while Reyes and Doggett returned to work on Monday. Scully didn’t have the credentials to get into the FBI building, and there wasn’t anything for her to do until William was cured. So it made sense for her to stay at Reyes’ and wait for Mulder to call. 

But Reyes didn’t think that all this inactivity was good for Scully. Since they’d started their drive across the country, Scully had become quieter and quieter each day. She’d brought it up earlier to Doggett. “It’s almost like how she was when Mulder was gone,” she said.

Doggett nodded. “I think all of this has been hard on her. And now she’s without her son…” he trailed off and Reyes let the topic drop, knowing that Doggett knew all too well what it was like to be without a child. 

Wanting to do something to cheer her up, Reyes had gotten Thai food from the place Scully liked near work, then picked up a bottle of white wine and a tub of double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream at the grocery store. Reyes hoped one of these items would make Scully feel better, even if it was temporary. 

Reyes walked into the living room, and as she suspected, Scully was laying on the couch. She was still in her borrowed pajamas, and it didn’t look like she’d showered. “Hey Dana, I brought dinner. Hungry?” 

“Thanks,” Scully replied, and Reyes noticed she didn’t actually answer if she was hungry or not. She did get up, grab the burner cell phone that she wouldn’t be parted from, and followed Reyes to the kitchen. 

“I got Thai from the place you like,” Reyes said, pulling out the boxes as Scully pulled plates from the cupboard. “And some wine and ice cream for dessert.” 

Scully eyed the offerings. “I haven’t had anything to drink in a long time.” 

Of course she hadn’t, Reyes thought. That hadn’t occurred to her. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“No,” Scully said, grabbing the wine bottle. “I was just thinking one glass and I’ll be wasted.”

Reyes smirked and waggled her eyebrows. “Feel like getting wasted?”

Scully let out a laugh. “I’ve felt like getting wasted for about a year now.”

Dinner plated and wine poured, they returned to the living room. The rerun of Friends had turned into a rerun of Mad About You. “I could put on a movie, if you like?” Reyes said, placing her food on the coffee table.

Scully was on the couch, sitting cross-legged. “This is fine,” she said, taking a large sip of wine. She closed her eyes, and leaned back. 

Reyes couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked, even with everything that was going on. “I just want you to know,” Reyes began. “That you and Mulder… you’re both so brave. You’ve really dealt with everything that’s happened so well.” 

Scully rocked her head towards Reyes and cracked open her eyes. “We haven’t, but thanks.” 

Reyes was about to argue, but the ring of the burner phone cut through the apartment. Scully nearly dropped her wine as she dove for the phone. “Mulder?”

She paused, and Reyes could hear the voice on the other side of the line, but only faintly. It was like trying to make out what  the teacher on Charlie Brown was saying. 

“Ok, and he’s had no reaction?” There was another pause, and Scully let out a long breath. “No, I agree, I should come now and test. Tell me where you are.”

Reyes was up and grabbing a pen and paper. Once it was in Scully’s hands, she started scribbling. “Ok, we’ll be there in about an hour.”

After Krycek had watched Reyes head up with a bag of takeout, he figured nothing interesting was going to happen for the remainder of the evening. However, as a good former agent, he would stick around until the apartment went dark and his query went to bed. 

So he was reclined, listening to the pregame show for the baseball playoff game, when Reyes and Scully both came charging out the front door of the building. They hustled to Reyes’ car, hopped in, and took off down the street.

Krycek smirked as he started his car and pulled out to follow. Finally, something interesting was happening.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 22, 2001
Rented Live/Work Loft, Baltimore, Maryland
8:56 PM

Mulder was pacing the room, a fussy William in his arms. His son had slept with the artifact for around an hour before waking up, needing to be changed and fed. Unwilling to be set back down, they’d tried tying the artifact to William, and then everyone (other than Mulder) took turns holding the baby, trying to entertain him.

It worked for a while, but soon William grew tired of the other men and began crying and reaching for Mulder. 

So Mulder took him, and had spent the last several hours trying to hold his son while not touching the artifact. He didn’t know if it was just proximity or actual skin contact that activated the thing. In any case, Mulder didn’t care to find out. 

There was a knock at the door, and Frohike rushed to answer it. As the door opened, Mulder was relieved to see Scully standing there. She entered, and walked directly towards Mulder. “How is he?” she asked, holding out her arms for the baby. 

“He seems fine. The artifact is under his onesie, on his back,” Mulder said, passing her their son. 

She hugged the baby tight, kissing him on the head. She then looked up at Mulder. Her eyes told him everything her words didn’t, that she was happy to see him, and she was scared for their child. That she was tired and depressed and ready for all of this to be over. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder in return. 

“I should test him,” she said, passing William back to Mulder. “Can you get one of his arms out, and then hold him while I draw blood?” 

Mulder nodded. Scully went over to the lab equipment to prepare, while Mulder headed for the couch. “Can you take out the artifact?” he asked Frohike, once he had William’s onesie unzipped. Frohike gingerly pulled out the metal fragment, and placed it on the coffee table. Mulder laid William on his lap, the baby’s head at his knees, his feet toward Mulder’s stomach. He pulled his arms out of the onesie and waited for Scully. 

“Alright,” she said, sitting on the couch next to Mulder. “Hold his arm,” she commanded, like they hadn’t done this a million times before. Mulder prayed this was the last time they’d have to do a blood draw on William. 

William turned to look at his mother and smiled. He let out a little screech and reached for her. “Hi baby,” she said, her hand caressing his head. “I’m happy to see you too.” 

She tied the little tourniquet and then started feeling his arm, looking for a vein. “Ready?” she asked.

Mulder nodded, and braced. 

As he always did, William screamed when the needle made contact. Mulder and Scully automatically started making calming noises as Scully collected the blood. Mulder could feel everyone else looking on, as it was their first time watching this happen. 

Mulder wondered if this looked as bad as it felt. 

Blood draw complete, Scully removed the tourniquet and put a Band-Aid on William’s arm. She took the blood and went to the lab area, leaving Mulder to calm William. He put his onesie back on, and then started bouncing him. “You’re alright,” he whispered into his son’s head. “That was hopefully the last one for a long time.”

Krycek cased the loft that Reyes and Scully had disappeared into. There was only one door, and all the windows were at least a story off the ground. They also had drawn curtains, which made it even harder for Krycek to get a sense of what was going on. 

He’d bet good money, though, that Mulder and the baby were in this loft.

Krycek returned to his car and pulled out a thermal imaging device. He pointed it at the building. Ghostly apparitions appeared on the device's screen, and he scanned first the upper, then lower floor. No one seemed to be upstairs, but he counted seven people on the first floor, and a lot of computers. He wasn’t sure if he saw the baby or not, but it was likely someone was holding him, so he might be hard to spot. 

Seven was an odd number, though. There were the three nerds, Mulder and Scully, Skinner, and the two new agents. Someone was missing. Probably Skinner or Doggett, Krycek mused, seeing as the three amigos were hardly seen apart. 

Krycek got back in his car and thought. The only way he was getting in was through that locked front door. Busting in on a crew of armed Federal Agents probably wouldn’t end well for him. He needed something better. 

He turned on the radio. The ballgame was now on, and he let his mind drift while half paying attention. Something would come to him. 

It always did.

Scully couldn’t believe her eyes. 

“It’s normal,” she whispered. William’s blood test results – they were all normal. She wasn’t seeing any of the abnormalities she’d seen in the past. The artifact had worked. 

No one was paying attention to her. The TV was back on, and Frohike had set out some snacks (that no one was eating). They were all waiting for her to give the results of the test. Scully should be jumping up, running to Mulder and William, shouting the good news from the rooftops. But she couldn’t believe it. How could a hunk of metal have done this? 

She knew she’d watched it regrow Krycek’s arm, but it was still so unbelievable. She’d run the test again, just to be sure. She couldn’t bear the thought of telling Mulder that everything was ok, that this was all over, and then having to tell him she’d made a mistake. 

Scully started the test procedure again when there was a knock. “That must be John,” Reyes said, standing to answer the door. Scully turned her attention back to her work. 

The door slammed open, and Reyes let out a shout. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, but it was too late. Krycek pushed Doggett into the room, gun at his head. “Hey all,” he said, positioning himself behind Doggett. “I see you decided to have a reunion, but forgot to invite me.”

“What the hell do you want, Krycek?” Skinner barked.  

“What do I want? To be left in peace, but since that isn’t going to happen, I need the kid.” He gestured to William, who was cradled in Mulder’s arms. 

“No!” Scully cried, only to hear her words echoed by Mulder. 

“You don’t have much of a choice,” Krycek said, pressing the gun to Doggett’s head. 

“Don’t give him up,” Doggett said. “This bastard can do his worst.”

“No,” Scully said again, taking a step forward. Krycek gave her a look, and she halted. “You don’t want him. He isn’t immune anymore.”

Mulder turned to look at her. “What? It worked?”

“I just finished running the test. His blood cells are normal now.”

Krycek gave her a perplexed look. “How?”

“The artifact. It healed him,” Scully replied. 

“The artifact is here?” 

Scully didn’t reply, but Krycek’s eyes scanned the room, until they fell upon the artifact, which was still laying on the table.

“Well,” Krycek said with a grin. “I’m happy for you all. I didn’t want to deal with the kid anyway. You may have just screwed over humanity, but oh well. I always enjoy you guys giving the Syndicate a swift kick in the nuts.” Krycek looked at Scully. “You got a piece of paper over there?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to give you Marita Covarrubias’ number. Call her and tell her about the kid. She’ll get a kick out of it.”

Scully didn’t know what else to do, so she scribbled down the digits that Krycek recited. Once he was done, he shoved Doggett away, but kept his gun trained on him. “I’ll be taking this,” he said, reaching for the artifact, “since the kid’s of no…” 

Scully watched as the artifact, which had been a solid piece of metal, disintegrated in Krycek’s hand. “What the fuck?” 

Skinner took advantage of the distraction. He pulled his gun and fired. 

The bullet hit Krycek in his right arm, causing him to drop his gun. Everyone else took cover. 

In the chaos that ensued, Krycek ran out the front door. Skinner, Doggett, and Reyes followed in pursuit. 

Scully quickly joined Mulder, who was still kneeling on the ground, trying to calm William. “It’s ok, buddy,” he cooed. Scully ran her hands along William, making soothing noises of her own. 

William’s cries slowly lessened, and Mulder looked up at her. “Is it really over?” 

“I think so. I want to run the test again, but…” she bit her lip. “I think it might be over.”

Chapter Text

Monday, October 22, 2001
Rented Live/Work Loft, Baltimore, Maryland
11:15 PM

Mulder came back from using the bathroom to find Scully exactly as he’d left her: lying on the bed, wrapped around William. He sat down next to them, absentmindedly rubbing her thigh. He was still having trouble believing that after all these months of anxiety and worry, it could actually be over. 

Scully had run the test on William’s blood four times – she’d gone as far to collect a second sample just to be sure of what she was seeing. They’d all returned the same result: William was now a normal baby. While Mulder was greatly relieved by this, he also felt a pang of guilt that now his son could be infected by the soldier virus. But being a regular cog was better than being the savior.

“I was thinking we should call Marita now,” Scully said. “Just in case they are tracking me.”

Mulder nodded. He’d had the same idea. The last thing they needed was for some kind of strike team to come knocking on their door tonight. The unwelcome visit from Krycek was enough. “Do you think we should worry about Krycek?” Mulder asked. Though Skinner, Doggett, and Reyes had pursued him, he’d gotten away. 

“No more than usual,” Scully replied. “We don’t have anything he wants… anymore.”

That was true. William was a normal baby and the artifact had disintegrated. “Why do you think the artifact changed?”

She shrugged. “Its magic was used up?”

“Look at you,” Mulder said, chuckling. “Admitting the artifact was magic.”

She huffed. “It grew arms back, changed William. I have no explanation for these things, and now that it’s gone, I can’t study it. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’”

“It’s so hot when you quote Arthur C. Clarke.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Do you have something I could sleep in? And an extra toothbrush?” 

He rose and pulled out one of the gray t-shirts he’d bought at a Walmart in Reno. He tossed it next to her on the bed. “I only have my toothbrush, but you’re welcome to it.” 

She made a face. “Mulder, no. That’s not hygienic.”

“Well, I’d agree with you if you didn’t stick your tongue in my mouth on a regular basis. My plaque is your plaque.”

She made another face as she carefully detached herself from William. She left him with Mulder on the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Mulder pulled out his phone, along with the paper with Marita’s number. Despite it being nearly midnight, he dialed and waited as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Marita’s distinctive voice came through the line. 

“It’s Mulder,” he replied, feeling tense about how this interaction would go. 

“How did you get this number?”

“Krycek.”

“Why did he give it to you?”

Mulder took a breath. “William – my son – he’s no longer of interest to you. He’s no longer immune to the alien viruses.”

There was a long pause. “How?” Marita asked. 

Mulder explained to her what had happened tonight. Midway through, Scully walked back into the bedroom, his gray t-shirt landing mid-thigh on her. He reached for her, and she sat next to him, their heads together so they could both hear Marita. 

“You realize you may have doomed us all,” Marita said once Mulder had finished his story. 

“I don’t care,” Mulder replied. “All we want is to be left alone. Whatever proof you need to corroborate our story we will provide, but after that… we just want to live our lives.”

“I can understand that desire, Mr. Mulder, though I cannot guarantee it,” Marita said. “Bring the baby to this address tomorrow.” Mulder scribbled down an address in DC. “We will run tests to confirm what you're saying.” 

The line went dead.

“Do you think it’s a set up?” Scully asked.

Mulder shook his head. “You’ve run the tests yourself. Why would they want William now?”

“Revenge? Or maybe they don’t want William at all.”

Mulder slowly turned his head to look at her. “You think they want us?” Images flashed before his mind of them being forced to produce yet more enhanced offspring. 

“Me,” she corrected. “For what I did.”

Now Mulder was really confused. “What did you do?” She stared at him for a moment, the disbelief at his statement clear as day. He scrubbed his face. “Come on Scully, it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. Help a fella out.”

“I murdered Spender.”

“You didn’t murder him,” Mulder replied, though he wasn’t sure it was true. He did, however, know that Scully shouldn’t feel guilt over what she did. 

“What else do you call shooting a restrained unarmed man?”

He sighed. “A man who abducted you, twice. Who medically raped you. Who was threatening our son. I call it self defense.”

She scoffed. “Just like it was ‘self defense’ when I murdered Pfaster.”

“It was,” Mulder said, taking her by the shoulder. “You did what you had to do. Both times.”

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” When Mulder did not respond right away, she continued. “He’d abducted you twice as well. He ordered a brain surgery that nearly killed you. William’s your son, too.”

Mulder didn’t know why he hadn’t shot him. He’d had plenty of opportunities, but for some reason never pulled the trigger. “Scully, it doesn’t matter. He was never going to leave us alone. It had to be done.”

She didn’t respond. Instead she curled on her side, facing away from him.

Mulder rose and gingerly transferred William from the bed to his crib. He then stripped down to his boxers, and slid into bed behind her. He wrapped an arm around her, and nuzzled her neck. “It had to be done,” he said again, this time whispered into the back of her neck. 

“Then why do I feel so bad about it? I’ve killed in the line of duty before. But with Pfaster and… him … it feels different.” 

Mulder’s finger creeped under the t-shirt she was wearing, and came to rest on her stomach. “Because it was personal, both times.”

She half turned, in order to look at him. “And how does that not make me evil? When someone pushes me too far, I kill them?”

Mulder wanted to shake her, to break her out of this cycle of recrimination. “Scully, you are not evil.” She started to argue, but Mulder barreled on. “I don’t doubt that this was a traumatic experience. Taking a life, even that bastard's life, isn’t an easy thing. But the right thing isn’t always easy. And…” He stroked her cheek, trying to build courage for the next part. “You’re depressed. Your anxiety is worse than I’ve ever seen it. You’re dwelling on this and building it up in your head, making it something it’s not.” 

She stared at him, stunned into silence by his words. “You think I’m depressed?”

“I think we both are.”

She was silent for a long moment, then curled against him, burying her head in his chest. “This has been the hardest year of my life,” she murmured. He stroked her hair. 

“I know.” He knew what it was like to be without your partner. He also knew what it was like to face your partner’s death (even if it didn’t come to pass). But he didn’t know what it was like to do all that while pregnant. He kissed the top of her head. “But we made it.”

She shifted and looked up at him. He expected to see tears in her eyes, but there were none. “We made it,” she whispered, then pressed her lips against his. 

It was no chaste kiss and arousal surged through him. The shift in mood, from her telling him she was an agent of evil, to her plunging her tongue down his throat was abrupt. He knew she was seeking comfort in his touch – she was asking him to help her forget. 

She’d done the same thing the night she’d killed Pfaster. 

Mulder questioned if this was healthy, but he was too hard to care. He didn’t care that he was exhausted or that the baby was sleeping right next to him. He wanted her. Badly. 

Their clothes were quickly removed, he slid his hand between her legs. She gasped, and he found her ready for him. After a few minutes of pleasuring her, she whispered, “God, I want you inside of me.” 

He grinned against her neck. “I bought condoms at the Walmart in Reno.” He’d seen them as he was weaving his way through the toiletry section, and had grabbed in a moment of hope.

She turned to face him, stilling his hand in the process. “You’re telling me that you were thinking far enough ahead to get condoms, but a second toothbrush didn’t occur to you?”

He kissed her. “A man must have his priorities.”

She laughed and shoved him towards the edge of the bed. “Well, go get them. What are you waiting for?”

Mulder didn’t have to be told twice.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, November 21, 2001
Dr. Brahms office, San Diego, California
1:05 PM

“I see you didn’t bring William today.”

Mulder nodded at Dr. Brahms, while Scully fidgeted next to him. This was a huge step for them, not bringing their son to therapy. 

It had been a month since that night in the loft, when the artifact had cured William. Since they had taken William to be tested, and the Syndicate had said William was no longer of interest. 

“I guess we should go about getting undead,” Mulder had said as they drove back from the location Marita had directed them to.

“We have to tell my mom first. That we’re alive. I don’t want her to find out because she receives paperwork or a call from a stranger.”

“We can call her when we get back to the loft.” 

Scully shook her head. “I want to do it in person.”

Once the Gunmen had cooked them up some IDs, Mulder and Scully boarded a plane for San Diego. When they pulled up to Scully’s mother’s new townhouse, Mulder started to get out of the car, but Scully didn’t move. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“I don’t know how to do this. What do I say?” 

Mulder supposed ‘Surprise! I’m alive!’ wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “I don’t know. But,” he took her hand, “we’ll figure it out together.”

She squeezed his hand. “Together,” she echoed.

“How does it feel to be without William?” Dr. Brahms asked, pulling Mulder back into the present. 

“Nerve wracking,” Mulder replied.

“Dana?” Dr. Brahms asked. 

Scully gnawed her lip. “I don’t know. I think I feel afraid.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Scully fidgeted some more before answering. “That he won’t be there when we get back. That someone will hurt my mom to get him.”

Dr. Brahms nodded. “Given what happened to you, these are normal fears to have.”

They of course couldn't tell the psychologists the whole truth, but they had said they’d been kidnapped, without going into details. 

“Have you both been leaving the house, alone?” Dr. Brahms asked.

Mulder nodded, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Scully nod as well. “We’ve been going to the grocery store,” Mulder supplied. He didn’t mention that the first time he’d tried it, he’d called Scully from the produce aisle and proceeded to keep her on the phone for the rest of the trip. 

The second time went better. He’d made it all the way to frozen foods before calling. 

When the session was over, they headed back to Scully’s mom’s. They’d been staying there since they’d come to San Diego, as they’d only recently gotten control over their finances again. Mulder did suspect that Scully found comfort being with her mom, so he was in no rush to have them leave. Plus Maggie was a good cook.  

When they entered the front door, the scent of freshly baked pies wafted through the house. The preparations for Thanksgiving had begun. While Mulder was excited for pie, he wasn’t looking forward to a day with Bill.

After nearly giving Maggie a heart attack when they’d shown up at her door in October, she had called both Bill and Charlie to let them know the good news. Bill, Tara, and Matthew had come over right away, and while Bill had given Scully a bear hug, Mulder could feel the cold shoulder he was receiving from a mile away. 

Maggie had insisted on everyone staying for dinner to celebrate, but Mulder was struggling with the amount of Scully Family Togetherness that was happening. He’d gone out back, to sit and be with his own thoughts for a while. He wondered if his parents were still alive, if their reunion would look anything like this. 

He heard the door crack open, and expected to see Scully, coming out to see why he was hiding. Instead, he saw Bill. 

“Hey Bill,” Mulder said, trying to keep his voice level. 

“Mr. Mulder.” Bill stood, looking out at the small backyard. Neither said anything for several minutes, as the tension grew. It was like waiting to be sucker punched.

Finally, Bill spoke. “Do you have any idea what this did to my mother?”

Mulder sighed. “I have some idea, and I’m sorry. But we didn’t have a choice. We didn’t want this to happen.”

“None of this is ever your fault, is it? It all just happens.”

Mulder sighed, and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared down at the terracotta tiles of the patio. Bill was right: this was his fault. His choices, his decisions were what led to everything that had happened. If he could have let Samantha go, if he had stayed with BCU, if he had never kissed Scully on New Years Eve… none of this would have happened. 

Once, a long time ago, he’d asked Scully if she could do it all again, knowing what she knew now, would she? She’d said yes, and at the time he didn’t understand why. So many terrible things had happened to her during her work on the X-Files, why not change it? 

But Mulder knew now. If any piece of it hadn’t happened, maybe he wouldn’t have her. Maybe they wouldn't have their son. It would all be different, and Mulder wasn’t sure that he could guarantee that it would be better. 

Despite everything, despite all the shit they’d been through, Mulder was fairly happy. He hoped Scully was too.

“Bill, I don’t want to argue with you,” Mulder said. “I know Scully and I have made choices that have caused you and your family pain. And I am sorry for that. But she’s been through a lot, and all I want is for her to be surrounded by her family. Because it makes her happy.” He could feel tears welling, and he pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “All I want is for her to be happy,” Mulder whispered, more to himself than Bill. 

There was a long silence, then Mulder heard the backdoor open and shut. Mulder wondered if all Bill had ever wanted was to make him cry, and having done that, he would now leave him alone. 

In Maggie’s entryway, Mulder and Scully divested themselves of their (hardly necessary) coats. “Mom?” Scully called out, and Mulder could hear the tinge of panic in her voice. 

“In the kitchen!” 

Scully rushed off, and Mulder tried (and failed) to control his pace as they followed the voice. Maggie was prepping food for tomorrow, while William sat in his high chair, covered in smashed sweet potato. 

“Mom!” Scully said, staring at William. “What happened?” 

“Oh, I was making the filling for the sweet potato pie that Fox wanted, and William kept reaching for it, so I gave him a piece. I’m pretty sure most of it is on him, I don’t know that any got in.”

Scully started to wipe William down with a towel, while trying to avoid getting covered in sweet potato herself. 

“I think this might be better solved with a bath,” Mulder said, taking the towel from Scully and wrapping it around William before picking him up. He headed up stairs, Scully right behind him. 

Mulder ran the bath water while Scully stripped their son. “My god, it’s everywhere,” Scully said, carefully removing the sweet potato covered clothes. 

Mulder took William and put him in the tub. William started splashing, and Mulder sat on the ground, next to the tub. Scully joined him. Together, they washed away the mess.

“All clean, William,” Scully said, washing away the last of the orange goo. 

“He’s starting anew,” Mulder said. “Ready to become covered in another food, another day.” 

She smiled at him, then her face turned pensive. “Is that what we’re doing? Starting anew?” 

They hadn’t talked about the future yet. They’d been reacting, trying to get through the next moment for so long, Mulder hadn’t considered what anything past next month would look like. “Maybe,” he replied. “I haven’t given much thought about where we go from here.”

“Me neither,” Scully replied. “I don’t know if I’m ready. To go back to the FBI.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” Mulder said the words before his mind truly processed them. Did he really not want to go back?

Scully’s face mirrored his thoughts. “Really?”

Mulder shrugged. “It has to end sometime, Scully. Maybe this is it. Maybe it’s our time to start anew.”

He watched as Scully pondered that for a moment. “Maybe it is. Maybe we can stay out here, near my mom.”

Mulder shrugged. “The weather is nice. Maybe we could buy a house with a view of the ocean.”

She laughed. “I don’t know if we have the money for that.” 

“We can have an ocean view if William goes to a state school.” 

Scully shifted up to her knees, and moved closer to Mulder. “I think I’ll be happy as long as we’re all together. Ocean view or no.”

They kissed, and when they parted, Mulder looked into her eyes. In them he could see his future. He saw them doing house work, music playing in the background, and him grabbing her and dancing for a moment when the mood struck. He could see them at William’s baseball game, ranting at each other about the unfair call the ump had made. Sitting at William’s high school graduation, watching their son receive his diploma, and enter a new stage of life. He saw her growing older, but always so beautiful, always his perfect other. He saw them on a porch swing, old, but still hand in hand, watching the sunset over the ocean from the house he’d convinced her to spend way too much money on. 

He took her hand and kissed it. “Scully?” he asked. 

She hummed in response. 

“Wanna get hitched?”