Title: Home For the Holidays

Author: Neoxphile

Spoilers: Duane Barry, Ascension, One Breath, Christmas Carol, Emily, The End, The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati, William, X-Files: I Want To Believe

Category: challengefic - written for the Nursery Files' First Christmas With You challenge

Summary: Christmastime in 2009 collides with news that a seventeen-year-old girl has allegedly murdered a couple and kidnapped two small children...and has ominous news about a little boy named William Van De Kamp.

Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital
December 4, 2009

Heavy wet snowflakes drifted by the restroom window as Scully sat on the closed lid of the toilet and waited for the white plastic timer balanced on the edge of the sink to go off. As soon as it did, she looked down at the pregnancy test and sighed.

Negative.

It had been foolish to hope that a pair of missed periods were the harbinger of another miracle baby, but until she saw the results she'd clung to the possibility that it was a successful pregnancy, not menopause, in her immediate future. At least she hadn't told Mulder, she considered. At least she'd keep her idiocy to herself rather than let it infect him too. The doubts must have been at the back of her mind because something had subconsciously prompted her to buy the test on the way to work and take it in one of the single occupancy bathrooms rather than at home.

Most of all it had been a mistake to allow herself to believe that life setting on a smoother course over the past eighteen months was some sort of sign that they might finally get all of the things they wanted out of life. It had truly begun to seem that they had in fact left the darkness behind them after that last case, especially when things began to go better for her at the hospital, and Mulder was contacted out of the blue by Phoebe Katz, formerly of FPS, with a proposal to create a highly fictionalized videogame based on the Monica Bannan case. He had thought it was a long shot, but over the past few months the development was going very well, and he was currently packing for Toronto where her new company was located and intending to go over storyboard ideas for the final production. All that seemed to be missing was their son, and since it was impossible to get him back, the idea that they might have another child to share their life with somehow didn't seem so far-fetched, not if they were finally getting what they deserved.

Now of course that was obviously not happening. For a moment she debated about whether or not she should bring the used test home with her, or if it was okay to throw it away in the wastebasket in the room with her. The odds of one of the nuns getting yelled at was low considering she had a fair amount of company when it came to lay people working in the hospital, but still… in the end she grabbed several paper towels to wrap it in, and then put the whole bundle in the bag the test had come in before shoving it down to the bottom of the trash bag.

Since she'd brushed against more trash than she would have liked to, she spent longer washing her hands than she usually did. And maybe if she was completely honest with herself, part of that was because she wanted to give herself longer before she had to reengage with the rest of the hospital more than out of concern for a risk to her patients' health.

Eventually Scully opened the restroom door and steeled herself for having to carry on a normal conversation like she wasn't devastated that her body was sending clear signals that any hope for another miracle should be considered now past. She'd already dabbed away the embarrassing tears that had threatened to overflow, so it was now just a matter of pasting a happy smile, or at least a neutral expression, onto her face. I can to this, she told herself as she stepped out into the hallway. I'm fine.

The thought that she only had to pretend to be okay for a few more days crossed her mind. Just after Thanksgiving she was pulled aside and told that she must take off the last three weeks of December because she had amassed an alarming number of vacation days, and they insisted that she used them up rather than carry all of them over to the new year. In a few more days she would be at home instead of under the steady gaze of her coworkers and occasionally far too perceptive patients. And thank God the weekend was coming up too.

"Hey, are you busy?" a voice asked behind her.

The speaker clearly wasn't one of the nuns, and father Ybarra certainly wouldn't have used the word 'hey' even if he was one of the few men she ran into in the halls so she was intrigued. Maybe it was another doctor, one whose voice she didn't readily recognize. "Why?" she asked even as she turned to see who it was.

If he was a doctor, it was one who was visiting. He was heavyset and older than her, she thought, but it was hard to tell if he was fifty or seventy because a snowy white beard obstructed most of his features. He did have crow's feet, but it was impossible to tell if he had other wrinkles. The fact that he was also carrying a large stack of brown cardboard boxes didn't help. "I could use some help with these if you don't mind," he told her.

"Oh," she mumbled and grabbed three small boxes off the top of the stack. "Where are we taking them?"

"I was told I could store them in a closet down the hall." He frowned. "Too bad I wrote the room number on a piece of paper that's in my pocket."

"I think I know where you mean," she told him, remembering a seldom used broom closet. She led the way there, and jumped back a few inches when opening the door caused a mop to launch itself out after her. He managed to stop it with his shoulder but some of his remaining boxes wobbled precariously.

"That was close," he said, pushing the mop into the room ahead of them. It skittered oddly across the old linoleum tiles and for a moment she was reminded of Fantasia.

She had no idea why the mop had been left by the doorway like that – rather than the room being filled to the brim like she expected, it was practically empty. A few dusty cleaning supplies sat on otherwise bare shelves, and a table with nothing on it was pushed up against the back wall.

"I must say," she said as she watched him put his boxes on the table. He reached for the ones she still held a second later. "This is all very mysterious. What exactly are we doing?"

"You were taking pity on a man carrying too many packages," he said, eyes twinkling with good humor. Then he began to whisper. "And I'm getting ready to play Santa in a few days."

"Really?" Scully lowered her voice to whisper conspiratorially. "Did all of these boxes come from your workshop?"

He squinted a shipping label. "This one is from Kentucky."

"But it is a gift?" she persisted, wondering why she cared. It would make no difference to her life if there were wonderful gifts in the boxes or just refills for the paper towel dispensers in the restrooms.

He nodded slightly. "Oh, sure."

Giving the table a doubtful look she asked, "And will you be wrapping them in here?"

"Nope," he said with a grin. "The parents were told they could have a present handed out during Santa's official visit – if they'd also pay to get them wrapped. Thank God for Amazon and grandmas who like to do their own shopping and wrapping."

"And you're going to be dressed as Santa when you hand them out?" Scully asked, glad that he wouldn't be wielding rolls of wrapping paper in the dusty confines of the closet. The last thing she needed was to do first aid on him if he managed to knock something on himself in the struggle.

He smirked at her. "It's a lot more magical if the sick kids are given a gift by Santa than by Carl, Sister Constance's brother."

She gave him a half smile, glad to finally know his name. The fact that she hadn't until now made the conversation feel a bit surreal. "It's very kind of you to do this to brighten up the Christmas of children who have had a rough year."

"I'm happy to. I've been blessed and I'm happy to give back." There must have been something about her expression that seemed pained when he said this because he said, "I have a feeling you're not feeling quite so blessed right about now."

"Not exactly, no," she admitted. She practically had to bite her tongue to keep from confessing that not being happy made her feel ungrateful for the things in her life she did have. There was no good reason to dump all of that on a complete stranger so she restrained herself.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Carl told her, sounding sincere.

"Disappointments are a part of life," she said philosophically. "I should be well-used to that by now. I'm simply not going to have the Christmas I'd hoped for, that's for sure." The thought of the test buried in the trash made her miserable all over again. Despite what Mulder thought was going to happen come 2012, she thought he would have been happy if she could tell him that she was pregnant. He really would have been happy about it, she thought, too.

"Well, the holidays have a way of surprising us sometimes," Carl said, sounding nearly as jovial as the man he was planning to imitate soon. "Maybe yours will be better than you think."

"I don't think so, Carl," Scully told him too quickly. It made her wonder if she really believed that she wouldn't be happy without a child in her life. How much of that was because she still felt guilty for giving her treasure away, and keeping Mulder from really knowing him?

To her surprise Carl put a hand on her shoulder. "Have faith. You work in a hospital where miracles of all sizes are pulled off every day. You can't tell me that doesn't gladden your heart at least a little."

"Oh, it does." But it didn't mean that she thought that her life would be improved by the association. "But…" she trailed off, unsure of how to articulate her thoughts.

The big bearded man gave her a sheepish smile. "Maybe I should have followed my sister's vocational path. Listen to me, lecturing you about divinity and I own a hardware store."

"When are you giving out the toys?" Scully asked, hoping to both change and soon end the conversation.

"The night of the eighteenth. I would have preferred later but the powers that be didn't want the children to actually think I was really Santa, and holding off to Christmas Eve like I would've preferred might have muddied the water," Carl explained. "I've met enough young kids to realize that they don't care about the date, they're going to believe what they believe, but try telling that to a board of strict Catholics."

"The eighteenth?" This disappointed her a little. "I won't be here then, but I'm really glad that you're doing this for them."

He stepped out of the closet, and she followed, turning off the light. "I'm sure you do more for them. Don't sell yourself short – my sister really does believe you work miracles around here."

"We try," Scully said.

Carl gave her a little wave and walked back towards the main entrance, step more lively now that he wasn't weighed down with boxes.

She watched him for a moment, then one of the sisters called for her, and she found herself rushing towards a patient's room. At least helping the little boy get his asthma attack served to take her mind off of herself, so that was probably one of the blessings the faux Santa encouraged her to count.

A long ziiiippppp noise rang in the air as Scully opened the front door that afternoon. So it came to no surprise to her to find Mulder sweating slightly with hands still on his suitcase. She gave his bulging bag a dubious look. "Do you really think that's going to fit into the overhead bin?"

"Sure," he said confidently, then looked down at it. "I mean, I hope it will."

"Oh, Mulder," she sighed with a slight shake of her head. Then she kissed him on the cheek. "Did you try rolling the clothes like Tara suggested?"

"Um, no." She reached down and unzipped the bag, ignoring his "Hey, wait!"

A pair of socks exploded out of the bag, and he caught them before they hit the floor. "Nice catch," she offered, already reaching into his bag and picking up clothes to try the method her sister in law had suggested at Thanksgiving after seeing Mulder's last attempt at packing.

"I don't see what difference this can possibly make," he muttered behind her.

But a few minutes later his bag was packed without bulging at its seams. "There," she said with some satisfaction. Mulder sheepishly handed her the pair of socks that he was still holding. "What would you do without me?"

"I don't know, and I hope I never find out," he said, leaning close to her ear before he kissed her back. His kiss took considerably longer than hers had. Once they finally pulled away, he asked, "What are you going to do without me this week?"

Scully shrugged. Part of her wanted to tell him about the negative test, but did he really deserve having her dump her disappointments on him just before he left for a trip? "I'm sure my patients will keep me busy," she told him when he continued to give her expectant looks.

"It must be a bummer to be in Christmas in December, especially the kids."

"Yes. But it seems that this year the hospital realizes that because they've roped someone into playing Santa for the kids." Even as she said it, she wondered how the families knew that their children would still be in the hospital nearly three weeks from then. Perhaps they just were being cautious, figuring it was better to send a gift the child wouldn't get there than to be overly hopeful that they'd be home for the holiday. "I met him today as he stashed some of the gifts in an old supply closet. I helped him carry a few of them."

Mulder's brow furrowed. "Should I be worried that you were in a closet with another man at work?"

"Mulder!" she exclaimed, laughing with surprise.

He continued to play up his concern. "You don't think I pay attention when you watch that Grey's Anatomy show, but I've caught enough to know that hospitals are a hotbed of clandestine romances."

"Have you ever taken a look at my co-workers?" Scully asked, trying not to giggle.

"I'm sure some of the sisters are quite lovely once you get them out of their wimples."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really. Now you're making me worried."

"Scully..." he protested, but he was still smiling.

"I assure you, I was not kissing Santa in the supply closet," she said, but all at once her good humor began to wan when she thought of that 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa' song. No one would be calling her mommy, not this Christmas or any other. A familiar pang of guilt assaulted her when she thought back on the only Christmas she and William had shared - he'd been too young to speak then, and only babbling. Poor Mulder hadn't even been granted that much time with their son.

Apparently her maudlin mood was obvious. "Are you okay?" Mulder asked, tone suddenly laced with concern.

"I'm okay," she reassured them both. Then she patted him on the back. "Come on. If we're going to have dinner before your flight, we've got to go now."

"Right," he agreed, threading an arm around her waist and maneuvering his suitcase with his free hand. "I won't be gone long."

"I know," she told him. Still, the thought of the next several days alone didn't gladden her heart.

a/n: I will try hard to finish this soon, but feedback will help inspire me to work on this out around other things today and tomorrow, so can I have some? :)

Speaking of inspiration: it's not too late to pen your own fic for the challenge (which is to have an XF character spend a first Christmas with a newly born, newly discovered, newly adopted, or newly reunited child. or you can have more than one of the types just listed), especially if you keep it short or post in multiple chapters like I am doing. Google "Nursery Files Challenges" click the challenges link with mulderscreek in the url - not geocities - and the First Christmas With You challenge is the first one listed.