Author's Notes: This is for an anonymous Tumblr Prompt I got: "Hold my hand until it's over?" Set during the IVF time period. Not going to lie, this was partially inspired by the lovely admiralities' story "Manu Ad Coxus" which you need to go check out if you haven't. It just punched my heart and I keep thinking about it and I wanted to write a little something, and this prompt just worked. (I took liberties there at the end, but hey, it's fanfiction.)

It struck him as odd. If there was one word that summed Mulder up, without a doubt, it would be 'Believer.' He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't expecting the unexpected or looking to the sky for answers. He wasn't usually rattled either. Alien sighting? Of course. Pig were flying? Predictable. Large-scale government conspiracies? An average Tuesday.

Of course it would be Scully to shake his foundation.

He couldn't believe she was asking him to do this; be the father of her child. Years of thinking outside the realm of extreme possibility hadn't prepared him for that one. Yet here she was, so vulnerable in front of him that he felt looking at her was an intrusion, but so enamoured he couldn't take his eyes off her. It wasn't even out of desperation. She genuinely wanted him for this, and he'd never questioned her rationality more.

Sure he'd thought about it, especially when he saw couples with their children. A physical manifestation of a metaphysical bond. A side effect of love. Was that what their child could be considered? Could he call it their child? Regardless, that's what he would think every time he saw the baby. His love for Scully in the flesh. What traits of Scully's would shine over his own? Would their child have her red hair and freckles? Eyes that shine like a beacon of light, anchoring him to shore. Would their kid be cursed with his nose and existential crises? Probably not. When Scully was with him she seemed to bring out the best in him. He couldn't wait to see the truth of that fact in front of his face, nuzzled in her arms.

Taking her hand a few days later, he tries not to look like this is the best proposition he'd ever been offered before, "Well...the answer is yes."

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He couldn't believe she wanted him in the room with her. Since being asked, he was curious if she assumed his role would extend no further than doing what he did best; thinking about her with his cock in his hand. Only this time with a cup in front of him. Even if it was, he'd accept that. He even abstained from coming for two weeks so he'd have a better sample for her. The biggest gap he'd taken since a certain redhead walked into his office seven years ago and established a permanent residency in his mind.

He finished the sample, trying his best to keep any contents from spilling out before getting the lid on. When he walked out he walked out he was shocked to see she was standing right there, and he hoped the idle sounds of the hospital had been louder to her ears than the stifling of her name on his lips as he made his donation.

He doesn't have a chance to ask before the doctor comes out and asks for the parents to follow him. He couldn't hide the surprise when she motioned for him to follow, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. A chance to see their child conceived would probably be one of the best moments of his life. It would only be better if the conception happened the ol' fashioned way, but beggars can't be choosers.

He sits in the chair in the corner and puts his hands dramatically over his eyes as she changes into the crisp paper gown that matches the antiseptic smell of the room. The completely sterile room.

God, he hopes this works.

She tells him to open his eyes and he's met with the sight of Scully sitting back on the hospital chair. Her legs are in those stirrups and the image is startlingly familiar. He sees it a lot in his dreams, but instead of stirrups it's his shoulders and his heart is pounding in desire instead of anxiety.

The doctor comes shortly after that with a table full of tools that made Mulder want to clench his legs shut in sympathy. He sees Scully shift in her seat and he's reminded just how in sync they are. The doctor explains the process in medical terms and he's positive Scully already knows all of this, but she's hanging off every word like it's gospel and, with how much faith and reverence they have in this process, it might as well be.

Then just like that, the man's working in between her legs and her face contorts in discomfort. It pains him to see, and he's on the edge of his seat, already embodying the role of nervous, doting father. His attention is drawn away from her face as her hand reaches out to him.

"Hold my hand until it's over?"

He takes it greedily, and, as simple as that, he feels relieved. She looks at him and gives him a shy smile that he returns happily. This is not under the circumstances he would have wanted, but, just like in his fantasies, it's them. Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, skin grasping onto skin like it's the only thing keeping them from floating away, locking eyes as they became one.

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He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Red. The size of a rose petal and just as vibrant. Like she was bleeding from a bullet wound, but the only thing that was shot was their dream. Their dream. There would be no red haired, freckled little love child running around looking for UFOs in the sky. There would just be menstrual blood staining the ivory fabric of her skirt. There would just be his shaky voice telling her he thought she sat in something when he knew in his heart she didn't.

Just tears in her eyes as she tried to pretend her heart isn't bleeding the same crimson blossoming on her skirt.

He tried to reach out and grab her hand, but she rushed out of the office before his skin had a chance to graze hers, leaving his hand raised as he grasped at nothing.

Isn't that what they'd been doing this whole time?

The cruel fate of that was easier to believe.