Right so some housekeeping before we get started:

1) I'm not an angry fan who feels like Chris hijacked Scully's uterus and wants to set him on fire for what he said about William.

2) On the William topic – he is basically an adult. M&S have no legal right to him. They have no current emotional ties to him and same for him. They are nothing more than his biological parents and that's how this will be treated.

3) If you are looking for warm fuzzy M&S with William, and picnics in the park with him and the new baby, this isn't the fic for you.

4) Each chapter will feature an M&S part and a William part. There will be very little M&S and William interaction, however, as this has to come together organically and cannot be rushed.

And now, on with the show….

(You can read the story before this Impossibly Possible because it's the same timeline, but it's not necessary as it's more a stand alone, but sort of part of this too)

Chapter 1

The drive to his house was too long and her place was almost empty. So they checked into the first hotel they saw.

It was an old hotel, and the rooms were basic. A bed. A dresser and a TV, probably black and white if they turned it on. There were no comforts or luxuries anywhere to be found.

They weren't likely to sleep. Or even rest. But he wouldn't let them wander the night, lost in their grief and joy.

She'd asked him weeks ago, in a whispered secret, before their world had fallen apart, before their souls had been laid to bare, if she could come home. If they could move forward and find a way to force the light back into their lives. If they could build a real future in their unremarkable little house.

They'd gone to her house the next day to start packing her things. It wasn't a fast move, however. They were taking their time, boxing, packing, and lounging in whatever free time they could find. They never got much packing done if they were honest, instead spending their moments with food, laughter and making love on every possible surface. It was actually a goal of Mulder's, to christen every inch of her home before she left.

It was the promise of a new beginning and they were determined to do it right this time. It was the first time in years, that life was starting to make sense. And for once, they didn't want anything more.

Except William. But they would always want William. He was their son. Their flesh. Their blood. Their miracle child, conceived and born of their love. He was the only good they had ever truly done.

And now, he wasn't. He was an experiment created in a lab, by all the forces of evil that had been working against them. It was sick. Disgusting and the nightmare they had always feared. But that didn't negate 17 years of loving him. Of desperation to find him and see the young man he was to become. They could have lived with never finding him, they would admit now. How could they live with this, how could they bare it? How could they live with themselves knowing he was seventeen and dead? His body cold and alone in the water somewhere.

"How is Skinner?" She was standing in the bathroom doorway, clad in the only robe they found in the closet. It smelled like mothballs, like it hadn't been washed in weeks, but what other choice did she have?

Mulder was in bed, probably wearing only his boxers, as his clothes were to blood stained to be stayed in. He was propped up against the headboard, his face unreadable. He'd been on the phone with Kersh, undoubtedly asking for whatever updates were to be had – other than the fact that he was taking their badges and closing the X Files.

Again.

"Alive," He pushed out on a shaky breath, "but severely injured. It'll be a long road."

She nodded and took a step toward him.

"Monica wasn't so lucky."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she sucked in a breath, unsure what her reaction should be. She'd have to think about it later, when her tears replenished and she was able to cry again. "Cancerman?" She asked, almost to the bed side now.

Mulder flipped the covers back, and looked up at her, a dry smile on his lips. "Kersh denies knowledge of any such person."

She let out a laugh that and shook her head, as she sat on the edge of the bed. "And naturally there is no sign of his body."

"Naturally," Mulder laughed, shaking his head. "That son of a bitch has more lives than a cat."

She untied her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, making it easier to slid out of as she eased into bed. "William…" She started. He would assume she was going to ask if they found his body, but that wasn't what she met.

"They haven't found him. Kersh promised to call as soon as they do," They didn't trust the man, though, this time he heard something in the other man's voice to believe he would call them.

She nodded and laid down next to him, pulling the covers over her. "He's alive."

He didn't know how she knew but he wouldn't question her. He would simply go and find him. "I'll go find him, Scully."

He was already pushing the covers back, when she grabbed his hand. "No," She pushed out through a shaky breath, pulling him down next to her. "No Mulder."

"But Scully…" He started.

"He asked us to let him go, Mulder. That's what we have to do. We can't keep doing this. We can't risk our lives and sanity anymore. If he wants to find us, he will. We have to move forward."

She watched her words filter through his mind, and then realization wash over his face.

He nodded and lowered himself onto an elbow. His other hand snaked under the covers, and over her hip bone. His fingers were light and soft against her stomach, his palm resting barely there against her skin. "Are you still hungry? I can get the pizza box from the car."

He didn't want to be the kind of man who fed his pregnant partner pizza and junk food during her pregnancy, but there hadn't been anything else open. So they ate pizza.

Tomorrow night he would go shopping and serve her a proper meal. And he'd hold her hair back if it didn't stay down.

She smiled up at him, grateful that he understood. Grateful that he was her with her. Grateful that despite all the sadness surrounding them, Mulder could always keep her going.

"Those first two slices aren't sitting to well."

"How long have you known?" He asked, eyes wide with curiosity. "If you're far enough along to be having morning sickness, this baby wasn't made on your couch, or your table, or your counter…"

"Mulder," she laughed, eyes blazing into his. "Two days," She answered, "that wasn't how I wanted to tell you."

He shrugged, his eyes full of so much love she almost couldn't breathe. "You got to tell me this time, Scully. We are already off to a better start than last time." His fingers played softly against her stomach. He should probably be worried that he would be seventy plus before this kid was eighteen, but he wasn't. He couldn't wait to meet her. "I'd say we made this little lady back in that hotel, when we had our little reunion rendezvous."

She chewed on her bottom lip, the memories coming back in a rush.

"That would mean you're about eight weeks, four days, 13 hours and 15 minutes," He concluded, "Give or take, depending if we made her the first time or the second, or third…."

She laughed at that. Hard and full. The weight of the day dissolving for a moment.

"Photographic memory, Scully," He teased, "It's not surprising you got pregnant that night. We were pretty good."

"Just pretty good?" She asked through her laughter.

"Trying to be modest." He leaned down to drop a kiss on her lips. This was the first time he'd gotten to kiss her in days, and it was as bitter as it was sweet. His lips went to her stomach next, and he dropped a barely there kiss against the blanket. "Mommy needs to keep that pizza down, be a good girl and let her get some sleep."

Scully rested a hand on the back of his hand and splayed her fingers in his hair, eyes drifted closed and she said a slight thank you. To God. To her mother. To whomever it was for letting her have this miracle.

She reached over and flicked the light switch next to her bed.

Maybe they would get some rest after all.

He could see the light in their room flick off through the blinds. He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing and watching.

The parking lot was empty, so he didn't need to worry about anyone seeing him.

He had followed them from the docks. He watched them at the pizza place, fascinated with the way they looked at each other.

Like they were going to be okay as long as they had each other. Like the world was crumbling around them, but as long as they had each other to hold onto, everything would be okay.

He assumed that the one they called Smoking Man and all the people out to get him, had been trying to break them up for years, with no avail.

Why he was here, he didn't know and he couldn't explain. He'd heard them on the dock. Seen their pain and their muted joy. He asked them to let him go, and that's what they would try to do.

He wondered if they could. The Van de Kemp's had loved him, sure, but what he felt from these two, was like nothing he could explain.

She'd told Mulder she was pregnant; he didn't have to hear the words to know about this baby. About his sister. He'd seen her in one of their shared vison.

Or was she his niece? He wasn't sure what or whom he believed.

He shared these visions with her, his mother. That wasn't all that drew him to her. He couldn't explain it, but his urge to know more was almost overpowering, despite his protests.

And Mulder. Smoking Man said that was his brother, and while that might be true, that wasn't what this felt like. What his mind screamed at him when he looked into Mulder's eyes, his eyes.

Maybe that's why he'd followed them from dinner to this hotel, because he couldn't follow his own advice.

Because letting go was harder than he thought it would be.

To be continued