Specifically, I'd wish that she could experience the happiness she'd always longed for; motherhood. It was no secret that for a long time, all she'd wanted was a child. That need was only heightened when she discovered that it was impossible. It was completely unfair, and I always believed secretly, that if I'd turned her away early on, if I'd said that I didn't need her, she never would have lost so much. It seemed as if a deity somewhere delighted in seeing her heart break. First there was Emily. Scully had loved her right off. All she needed was the knowledge that, biologically, that girl was her child. And she would've done anything for her. In the short time they had together, she did everything she could. And though it wasn't enough in the end, I think that that little girl loved Scully, because she tried so hard just to make it better, or to make it okay, even for a moment.
Then there was William, a miracle, without a doubt. In my opinion, an angel in waiting, whose simple existence proved that there is a God, whether or not I'd ever wanted to believe it. I'd held that child in my arms and knew, everything that Scully stood for, and all of her faith, was worth it. If a few heart-aches and mistakes led to something so completely perfect, there was no other excuse. God was on her side. Most people want their children to be special, and certainly Scully had high hopes for William, but she simply wanted her baby alive, super-human or not, and I didn't blame her. It was enough that he was there, living, breathing. And when I went away, though I had my fears, I didn't doubt for a second that Scully would always find a way to protect him, no matter the cost. Because it's what mother's do. Mother's protect their children, with no regard for themselves, or anyone else, and Scully was meant to be a mother.
When Skinner told me of her decision, of what it had all come down to, I was surprised. Shocked, even. Shocked that she was so strong. I'd always known she was strong, but I never truly knew her strength. But I found out that day. Even when she cried in my arms and said she was afraid I would never forgive her, I knew. I'll never know anyone as completely selfless, and strong as Dana Scully. I knew she had no choice, and that was what had broken her; the fact that in the end, she couldn't always be the hero. Everytime I look at her now and see her eyes staring through me, I know that she's thinking of him. He'd be starting kindergarten now, and I know she's thought of that. His first day of school. He'd probably wear a shirt with dinosaurs or something, elastic shorts, and those velcro shoes that light up. And he'd be so smart. Of that, I had no doubt.
I knew that she felt empty sometimes, she'd told me as much. I can imagine that's how any mother feels who loses their one chance, their one miracle. She'd also said that if I hadn't been there to reassure her, she'd probably have broken a long time ago. I don't believe that. Like I said, she's strong. Maybe stronger than she knows. If she were going to break, it would've happened by now. She'd suffered so much.
Which is why as I sit in the rain now, staring blankly up at the clouds, I hope I'm doing the right thing. God knows, it feels so right. It feels completely perfect to me. The last five years we've spent together, three of them hiding in motel after motel, and if I hadn't been completely in love with her before, I damn sure am now. I know that she loves me, but I'm not sure if it's as much as I hope. No guy in my position is ever sure. But my fingers are getting sore from gripping the box so tight in the cold rain, so I decide it's time. I shamble into the house, shivering all over, and though the freezing rain isn't helping, I know it's something more.
I find her in the den, reading, her face a bit brighter than usual. She hears me come in and looks up, smiling, despite the massive amounts of rain dripping from my coat onto the rug. I try to smile, but find that my face actually hurts from the thoughts that are spinning through my head. She notices, and seems concerned. "Are you okay?" she asks, closing her book and starting to stand. I hold up my hand, signaling her to stop. "I need to talk to you," I say, climbing to my knees in the floor at her feet. There's rain dripping from my hair down the back of my neck, making me tremble; it feels like ice. "Okay," she says, nervous.
Trying to clear my head one final time I run my hand through my hair, brushing the rain away, and wiping my hand on my coat. Then I take her hand. "Oh God," I manage, in a whisper, then clear my throat, looking up into her eyes. "I love you," I say, knowing she knows it, but lacking a better place to start. I feel like an idiot, like a stupid teenager, who's about to get his first kiss and is paranoid his breath stinks or something. The silence only lasts for a moment, but it's thick, so I force myself to go on, talking over the painful lump in my throat. "You know I love you. I always will. You've been with me, by my side, for so long, through so much. I know I shouldn't be afraid of losing you." She smiles, nodding. "I know that, every morning that I wake up beside you, I'm so completely happy. I mean, I know we've been through a lot, and that things aren't perfect, even now. But I've always been the happiest with you, I..."
Oh, God, and I can't finish it. I don't know how. I want to cry and run away, but I know I can't. I just can't. I'm thinking of all the reasons I love her, and all these pretty things to say, but somewhere between my heart and my brain they get lost, and jumbled and make no sense to me. She's staring at me wide-eyed, and I can see a slow realization come over her face. I'm so relieved. She squeezes my hand and takes a deep breath.
"Are you asking...me to marry you?"
I choke, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. For a moment, I can't speak, so all I do, is nod. The box is still in my hand, my fingers nearly numb from gripping it so tightly. I hold it up and open it.
She starts to cry, looking in the box at the two silver bands, and my hands start shaking again. "But more than that," I say, finally finding my voice. "I don't want to just get married. That's so ordinary. And...nothing I feel for you is ordinary." I pause a second, to brush a tear from her cheek, and she sniffles. "I think that you and I were meant for each other, in every way." She nods, and I'm convinced that she knows what I'm getting at. I'm so relieved, because my heart was getting in the way of the signals from my brain. I pull one of the rings from the box and place it on her right ring finger, then I kiss her hand. She's fighting tears, apparently trying to stop them all together, but failing miserably.
She keeps sniffling, and reaching up to wipe her eyes. After a few minutes of silent tears, she takes the box from my hand and pulls out the second ring. I'm still dripping wet from the rain but she ignores it, scooting closer to me and taking my right hand, sliding the ring on my finger. Then the air is filled with a silence like I've never experienced before. Just another thing I've always loved about her; I never have to explain anymore, she just knows. We're still for a moment, our hands locked together, staring at the rings, and I feel so proud.
Eventually, I lift myself up and lean forward, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her tight up against me. She ignores the wet clothes, and clings tightly to me, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
"I'm never going to leave you," I whisper, kissing her forehead. I could feel her smile against my skin.
"You'd better not," she said, then lifted her head to look me in the eye. "Because I'm pregnant."
I do believe in God. I believe in fate and destiny, and all that. But mostly I believe that all those tough times together, all that tragedy, they were just tests. I'd say we passed.
In that moment, I knew a happiness like I'd never known existed, and all I could do was kiss her. My wish was coming true. Well, the most important one, anyway.