The airport was busy when Maggie Scully arrived in Virginia, the air heavy with anticipation and irritation as families struggled to get to their spring break vacations. She travelled alone, small suitcase in hand, her gaze steadily focused on the faces passing by her. She hadn't had a reason to come to this coast in years, not until she got word from the daughter she had hoped for years was still alive.

It has been more than five years since Maggie had seen or heard from Scully. Her daughter gave birth to her son and let everyone she loved most visit them once (just once) before disappearing with the baby's father. No notice, no goodbye. Maggie didn't know if she should be mourning for them or praying for their safety.

And now, Scully had promised to see her again, in this very airport.

But it was Mulder who came to pick her up, not Scully. Mulder and a floppy haired boy with blue eyes and a big nose who looked nothing like the dozing infant she held eight years ago.

She saw them before they saw her, and she watched them, curious. Watched as the boy jumped from floor tile to floor tile, careful not to fall onto a line, and as his father kept an eye on the hopping child and at the crowd emerging from the far end of the hall. Mulder seemed to have hardened over the years, looking rigid wary at the commotion around him, but he softened when he went to grab William's hand to keep from losing him.

They were a part of the family that she didn't know; people linked to her by blood or pleasant memories but with whom she had not spoken to in years. When Scully left, she moved to the west coast to be closer to Bill and his family. She had four children, such a large family, and she only regularly saw one of them now.

The crowd slowly started to disintegrate, and Maggie picked up her pace, clutching her suitcase behind her tightly. She finally caught Mulder's eye when she approached the two, causing a cautious smile to creep upon the man's face. He wrapped her in a hug while his son stared up at her curiously at their feet.

"I'm sorry Dana couldn't come meet you too. She had to work," Mulder said.

"That's quite alright. I'm just as happy to see you and William."

The little boy tugged on her coat sleeve. "It's Will."

"You're called Will?" He nodded.

"We've only really call him William when he's been bad." His father supplied.

"I'm not bad!"

"That's right, you're an angel, buddy."

It was colder in Virginia than it was in California, and Mulder was courteous enough to turn up the heat for her when they dragged themselves, Will, and her luggage over to the car.

Her grandson was William by the time they made the journey up the driveway towards their house. He had been kicking the car seat in front of him for the latter half of the journey, hungry and bored of his handheld video game.

"He doesn't really like car rides," explained Mulder sheepishly. They were at the house now, and he parked the car with a sight before helping WIll out.

"I imagine that no child does," said Maggie. She smiled as Will took her hand and started dragging her towards the house, a small structure with unremarkable features that look even more dull amongst the poor weather of the late winter.

"C'mon, I wanna show you my climbing tree."

"Let's wait until after dinner, Will," Mulder said, pulling Maggie's bags from the trunk of the car. "Mommy's going to be home soon."

"Kay."

They took her inside where it was warmer. Mulder carried Maggie's bags upstairs, and Will was quick to show her around the house.

Maggie peeked into rooms as they rushed past them. Will's idea of a house tour didn't involve much else than showing her his favourite toys and hiding spots. Around the house, occasional spots of clutter littered surfaces, but everything was dust free, almost sparking in the light. Maggie smiled. Her daughter seemed to have loosed up after having Will, but the remaining cleanliness was familiar. She had worried so much she wouldn't recognize her.

And then Dana came home. Maggie had expected to meet her at the airport, to hug her and watch her pretend not to tear up in public. But, unpredictable as ever, she didn't show up until Maggie was settled into her home with coffee and her lingering anxieties as hand.

Expectations so rarely measure up to the rawness of reality, Maggie knew. Yes, Scully still fought back tears. She's always acted as if in front of an audience, so guarded. But her hug was warm and she let Maggie linger with her arms around her.

Pulling away, Scully hardened slightly. No more tears for Dana, no way. "I hope they've fed you well," she said with a pointed look at William. The boy nodded.

"I shared my cookies with grandma." Satisfied, Scully went to put her coat away. Maggie watched as she settled back in with her tiny family in their tiny house, so far from the rest of the world.

At dinner they were a well oiled machine of three. Will set the plates- it's a grownup chore, Grandma. You have to be careful or else the plates break- and William appeared as soon as the asparagus on his plate did. She quickly learned to distinguish the two. His parents bustled around the kitchen and refused to let her help, insisting she was the guest. As they cleaned, Maggie instead took the time to admire their fridge, decorated with pictures and handmade magnets, much like her own when her children were small. A photograph hung among hand drawn pictures, the family of three sitting on a park bench in the summer.

"That's from a Fourth of July celebration when Will was two," said Scully. "It was the first time we gave him cotton candy."

Mulder came up behind them drying a dish. "He loved that stuff."

"He was sick after that. We felt so guilty."

"I think that's the reason for his sweet tooth."

"Yeah, there was no way that was inherited." Dana rolled her eyes as she turned back to her work.

"Are you sure you don't need help, hun?" They didn't.

They have not had a personal conversation since Maggie had arrived two days before. Her grandson, without a single memory of her, had taken to her immediately and had not let her out of his sight since. He took her to his climbing tree, as promised, and grappled his way up as his mother hovered below him. Her eyes were locked on WIll and didn't see the puddle beside her, and she sunk her sneakered foot into it. Mulder chuckled and she kicked mud at him. William laughed above them.

Now, dusk had fallen on the unremarkable house, much more gently now that the winter was turning into spring. New sets of footprints, large and small, were imprinted into the slush and mud, pointing towards the house.

Inside it was brighter, albeit not much less muddy. William had been carried upstairs against his will by his father for a bath, leaving a faint trail of mud and a tense silence between mother and daughter. They sat in the kitchen, each cradling her own cup of tea.

"He's grown up to be such a sweet boy, Dana," Maggie said. Her fingers restlessly traced the blue and green design of her mug.

"Thanks, mom."

"Mulder said he's been staying home with him?"

"Yeah, Will's being homeschooled for now. We were too scared before... but he'll be starting this fall."

"You've made a lovely home for yourselves."

Scully smiled slightly. "Thanks. It's quiet here with the three of us, but we like it," Maggie tried not to let her face fall at her words. Her daughter had the sense to look ashamed. "I'm, I'm sorry we haven't kept in contact."

"I understand, you were trying to protect your family."

"Don't, Mom. Brushing this off isn't going to solve anything." Maggie didn't continue. Scully started again. "I know that I've become distant in the past years."

"Distant? Distant is a child who you only see on holidays. Not one who ran off for five years after so little contact to begin with." Scully had the sense to look guilty. Maggie continued. "But truthfully, I've been waiting for the day that you packed up and left without a word," At this, Scully looked down at the soppy tea bag in her mug. "And then you did. I just wish I had a chance to get to know your family."

"It's your family too."

"I hardly know you, Dana. Any of you." Maggie paused. "I'd like to know why you left."

"We were worried for Will's safety."

"And now you're not?"

"We couldn't stay hidden forever. We have work to do." Scully was curt. Her work has always been so secretive.

"Work? Dana, not everything in life is about work."

Scully ignored her. "The threat is smaller now. Or maybe- maybe it wasn't as big as we thought to begin with. But we hated living in the dark. We chose to get out, and now we have work to do."

Maggie stared into the final dregs of her tea. Scully stared at her fidgeting fingers. "What do you want from me, Mom?"

"I want you to let me into your life more. I want to see you more than once every five years. I want to know that, if something were to happen, I can hear about it. I don't want to be left not knowing again, Dana."

"I can try. I can start"

"Yes, but you've said that before."

Scully swallowed. "I-"

They were interrupted by footsteps padding down the hall, muffled by worn down carpet. It was Will, his skin lightly pink and pajamas put on. He came up to Maggie, leaning towards her to talk.

"Can you read my story for me today?" She glanced at Scully, who nodded with a small, sad smile on her face. She stood and let her grandson drag her to his bedroom and an awaiting pile of books. He was still so small, hardly ready to begin school. She still had some time left with him.

No one spoke of the Scully-Mulder family absence for the remainder of her stay. A few weeks after she returned home, Maggie received a hand drawn picture in the mail of four figures walking in the woods, three large and one small. It was a start.