Five months. That was how long it had been since she last saw those puppy-dog eyes, that wry smile, or had felt those firm hands on her tiny shoulders. She missed his laugh, the way he had called her beautiful even when she was eight months pregnant. The way he had held her. The way he had caressed her.

She tried to jar these images from her mind, to focus on the matter at hand. The funeral was underway, and so was the procession of crying people whom she had invited to attend. Front and center was Walter Skinner, her boss. The bottle cap glasses he always wore reflected the dim lighting, making his eyes unreadable, although she was almost certain that she saw a fear tears welling up inside of them.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the untimely death of Fox William Mulder."

No, Scully thought to herself, we are here to waste our time. She had never been one for tears. The Navy brat almost sympathized with those who found her cold and emotionless. Of course, Mulder had never thought so. No, not her sweet, intelligent Mulder, the man who had believed and yet never been believed in himself.

The X-Files had been closed. Seeing as the section's lead man was dead, the FBI had seen no use for keeping it open. Scully could be relocated elsewhere. Of course she could have. What was the X-Files without Mulder, right? How could anyone possibly expect for her to carry on that dangerous work?

She tried to relinquish any bitter feelings as she approached the podium, tactfully preparing an unprepared speech in her mind. All she could think of saying was how Mulder didn't deserve this. He never would have wanted this dimly lit funeral parlor or that tiny patch of earth. He wanted to live, to be free amongst the animals that roamed.

Or his sister.

Clearing her throat, Scully wondered if the two had been reunited in their final resting place. Once more, that terrible twinge of jealousy. Biting her lower lip, she fought it off and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hello."

The guests stared at her, cold, emotionless figurines dressed in suits and ties. None of them knew what she was going through, not even her own boss, the one who had supervised them. No one would ever know what she had been through, raising a son amidst her husband's death. "As you know, Mulder was a very special guy." How fake her words sounded, even to her own ears! "He graduated top of his class at Quantico…and he was not only my husband but my best friend. So when he disap—" a sharp look from Skinner made her alter her word choice. "Died, you can imagine how I felt. So, um, I thank you all for coming out here tonight."

The descent from the podium seemed to take ages. When she finally returned to her seat, she found herself more eager than ever to cradle her baby William, the only comfort she had left. Countless others took the podium, retelling stories of how they had been best friends with Mulder or else had barely known him but always admired her work. Even though she tried to laugh and smile along with everyone else, Scully felt oddly aloof. Everything seemed so faked, so cut and dry and disgusting that it made her want to run screaming from the very jail that she had been locked inside of.

At long last, the final speech had been made and everyone was preparing to journey to the burial site. Skinner offered to drive Scully there, but she calmly refused. If she could do one thing, it was drive. He couldn't take that away from her. If he did, she would more than likely lose her sanity.

"Come on, Billy," she said with every ounce of cheer that she could muster. "Let's go, honey."

The baby cooed, pointing at a nearby drapery. Scully glanced over her shoulder; no one was there. William had been acting strangely lately, motioning to random objects as though someone was there entertaining him. Disregarding her crazy thoughts, Scully fastened her precious child into his car seat before preparing to leave. As she turned the key in the ignition, a crazy thought came to her: what if she skipped the burial?

Acting upon whim, she drove off towards home, gentle music lulling her child to sleep. She found herself smiling at her suddenly jailbreak, imagining what Mulder would have said. Nice on, Scully, he would have said with a smirk, It seems I'm rubbing off on you after all.

More than you'll ever know, Mulder, she wanted to say. More than you'll ever know.