WHAT I'VE TAKEN FROM YOU
Teresa stood and handed her son to Scully, who took him without complaint, and left the room to retrieve the files she had mentioned. The baby, fussy at first, began to calm down as Scully cooed at him. His fear of the stranger whose arms he now rested in turned to curiosity, as she reached out and grabbed one of his toys off the coffee table and began to play with him.
Mulder watched Scully bounce the baby on her lap, and talk to him with a softness in her voice he hadn't heard since Emily had died. The way the little boy responded to her was remarkable, and it was then that Mulder realized how natural this was for her; how strong her maternal instincts were. The baby in her arms looked… right.
He wondered what would have happened if she had never joined the FBI; if she had never met him.
He pictured in his mind, a different image of Scully. He pictured a beautiful woman, who had no premature lines on her face from a stressful life, coming home from a busy day at the hospital where she worked. A place where she saved lives without risking her own. He pictured her coming through the doors of a big house in a suburban neighborhood, the pitter-patter of tiny feet approaching her as she entered.
He saw her children, coming at her with sticky hands and gigantic smiles, attacking her in their embrace, as she squeezed them back.
In his mind he saw a faceless man approach her, kiss her, and ask her how her day was. He could see them all sitting around the dinner table, eating a home cooked meal, talking about their achievements for the day, and their hopes for tomorrow.
He saw Scully happy.
Was this image in his head the life that Scully willfully chose not have? Or had his own selfish need of her made her feel guilty enough to say?
Part of him wanted to be that faceless man he saw. Wanted to be able to embrace her, both of them full of smiles and contentment, with no worries about government conspiracies and finding the truth. Part of him wanted a life where all the truths were laid out in front of him, and he needn't search for anything but lost toys and missing shoes.
But he knew he could never have that life. Not after everything he had seen, everything he had done, all the effort he had put into the project. This was going to remain his life forever. He didn't think there was an end for him.
But Scully.
Scully didn't have to live like this anymore. She didn't have to follow him to the middle of God-knows-where every week, chasing the next big thing, tracking down the next big lead.
She could have a life, and as much as it would hurt him to lose her, part of him wished that she would go and never look back.
But then he remembered her abduction. He remembered the parts of her he had found that they had taken, making this daydream of his not just improbable, but impossible. He remembered that Scully would never hear that pitter-patter of feet approaching her. She would never have a womb full of life. She would never have a chance to put her natural mothering abilities into practice.
And it was all because of him.
It was all because she was associated with him.
The person he loved most in the world was also the one he had hurt the most. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair, and it killed him to know that there was nothing he could do about it.
At that moment he would do anything in the world to give her that life. To give her a better career, a home, or even just a child.
But he couldn't.
Mulder snapped back to reality and looked away from Scully and the baby. It panged him too much.
'I would throw away everything right now, just to give you back the life you deserve. I would forget all the conspiracies, all the things I've saw, every bit of proof I've tried to piece together, if it would mean that you could be happy. Jesus, Scully,' Mulder thought to himself. 'how can you even bear to look at me? How can you still trust me, and care for me, and be there for me? It's not fair. You have never taken anything from me, but look at everything that I've taken from you.'