I nixed the pregnancy storyline in this one because frankly, I think it was a lazy story choice. This is my first fic set after season 11. Inspiration is the song "Please" by Elton John. Please leave a review if you like it!
Dana Scully woke up in a familiar bedroom and sat up slowly. It used to be hers - well, theirs - and lately, she'd been waking up there more often than not. Mulder was still asleep beside her, snoring lightly. She glanced at the clock. 6 AM.
She'd slept better than she thought she would have after last night's ordeal. Half of her felt relieved - the Cigarette Smoking Man was finally gone. She felt peace when she thought of William. Although she wouldn't realize it for some time, she knew he was still alive. But the other half of her felt sadness for Mulder. Even though being apart from her child for over 15 years was hard for her, somehow, since meeting him, she'd gotten comfortable with the idea that maybe he wasn't really hers. He was hers biologically, but she never parented him. She breastfed him and rocked him to sleep for the first few months, but after that, there wasn't anything holding them together. Their home life wouldn't have been the typical life she had imagined when she got pregnant.
But Mulder - he had only met his son briefly before Mulder was ripped away from Scully and William. By the time they reunited, William was gone. She wasn't sure how Mulder had grieved for him, and in the last few weeks, it became clear to her that maybe Mulder never did grieve. Always the believer, Mulder probably ignored the grieving in favor of the idea that he would search for William until he found him. And then he did, but only for a short while, and only to find out that maybe William wasn't really his at all.
Mulder would have been an amazing father, she thought, feeling that tightness in her chest that came before tears. To her, he would always be William's father. He would have been the best dad, always willing to run around outside until nightfall or help with homework. He'd take his son camping and show him all the constellations in the sky, and he would have gone on every college tour. He'd encourage his son to follow his heart, a lesson rarely taught to young men.
She sniffled as a few tears fell and the sound woke Mulder. She felt his large, warm hand on her back and turned to face him, leaning her head against the headboard. Mulder looked worried.
"Hey," he said softly, "Are you thinking about…" He trailed off. He didn't have to say their son's name.
Scully wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head. "No. Well, yes."
Mulder looked confused. He drew himself up to sit up slightly and tucked a lock of hair that escaped from her tiny ponytail behind her ear before resting his hand on her cheek.
"I was thinking about you and him," she said slowly. "I'm sorry you two never got to be father and son. You would have been a great father, Mulder."
He smiled sadly. "Thanks, Scully. I'm sad too. I think I'll be grieving a lot in the coming weeks," he admitted, which shocked her enough for it to be visible on her face. Instead of making a joke, he sighed. "This didn't end how I wanted it to."
"Me neither," she said softly. "But at least that awful cigarette man is gone."
"Oh, my father? Good riddance," Mulder said darkly, his eyes clouding over. Shit. In all of this, she'd forgotten that. Or maybe she just didn't want to remember.
"A father is someone who cares for a child," she said, taking his hand in hers. "He never did that for you."
Mulder nodded and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Breakfast?," he murmured into her hair. She nodded and he drew back, then stretched his arms up and shuffled out of bed and down the stairs.
Scully slid out of bed and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Some of her hair was gathered back in a ponytail, but a few pieces were falling out. She was wearing Mulder's FBI t-shirt and it was practically a dress on her, but she had her own plaid pajama pants under it because it was a little chilly out. Without makeup, she looked a bit older than she wanted to. She looked like someone's mother, but she wasn't. Not really.
She sighed and made her way downstairs. The stress of whatever would happen next was already weighing on her. How long until Mulder slipped into another manic frenzy? How long would it take to pick up the pieces?
But he sounded different this morning. Like he meant it when he said he was going to grieve. Could the death of the cigarette man signal a change for them? Less running, less scrambling for the truth?
Mulder was humming as he moved around the kitchen, and it was a happy hum. She knew him well enough to know the difference between happy humming and defeated humming. Sometimes, he just had to make noise to remind himself he was still there. She knew the feeling.
"Hey," Mulder said, turning around to hand her a mug of coffee. "I think I'll make pancakes. Sound good?"
She nodded and took a sip. "Mulder, can we talk first?"
He nodded and followed her into the living room. She sat on the couch, set her coffee on the table and pulled him to sit beside her. She didn't let go of one of his hands, weaving her fingers through his and fiddling with his hand like it was a toy.
"Mulder…," she began, making direct eye contact with him. He looked concerned and she wanted to assuage him of his fear immediately.
"Mulder, please let me grow old with you."
His wide eyes told her he was not expecting that. She liked to keep him guessing, all the years later.
She continued. "After everything we've been through, all the times we've been shortchanged in this life and every time we hid our feelings from the other a little too well… I just don't think we have anything left to prove. I love you and I'm ready to slow down."
He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
"Maybe," she said, biting her lip. "Or we don't even have to make it official. Let's just stop running - literally and emotionally. I don't want to watch us fall apart again. Were not getting younger - let's put everything back together, sew it all up and just… be."
"Scully," Mulder said, pulling her closer to him. She was practically straddling him. "I love you so much. More than I can say. And you're right -"
She stopped him there, putting her finger to his lips. "Wait, I need to savor this."
He laughed a little and pushed her finger away. She saw warmth in his eyes and knew it was going to be okay.
"You're right, we've been down this road many times and every time, I still felt like I had something to prove. To the world, to the cancer man, to my son. But the only person who's ever cared what I did was you." He raised their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"I am ready to put in the work to fix this," he said seriously. "I will confront my bullshit, I will talk with you, not just at you, and I will slow down. These last few months have taught me that you don't know what you have 'til it's gone, and I don't want to have to lose you again before I realize I've taken you for granted."
Her mouth parted open slightly. It was one of the most romantic things he'd ever said to her - basically wedding vows right there on his old leather couch.
"Mulder -" She began but he cut her off by covering her open mouth with his and kissing her senseless. She inched her way up into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I'm done putting us on the line in pursuit of something greater," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry you had to wait this long."
She smiled and kissed him again. "As long as you put some actions behind those words, I'm yours forever, Fox Mulder."
He grinned and nipped at her neck. "My word is as good as gold, Dana Scully."
She shifted and laid in his arms on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. His arms wrapped around her in this tiny little house. For once in their lives, there wasn't a monster at the door.
Mulder took a long, deep breath and Scully felt his body ripple beneath hers. She took a deep breath too.
It was time to move on.