a/n: sorry i've taken forever to update this...I've been busy with New Beginnings (is it a plug if you post

it on one of your other stories?) Anyway, hope this was worth the wait!

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The doctor discharged Scully from the hospital the next day. Mulder drove Scully to her apartment. The ride was silent, but the aftertaste of death clung in the air around them. Mulder pulled into Scully's parking lot and shifted the car into park. He opened the trunk and pulled out Scully's overnight bag. He left the baby carrier in the trunk and slammed the door. Still, Mulder and Scully avoided eye contact and remained quiet. Scully walked ahead of Mulder as the went to her apartment door. When she had just put the key in the door, she slowly spun around to Mulder, staring at his feet.

"I think I'd rather be alone right now," Scully uttered.

Mulder studied her face, hoping to find evidence otherwise. He nodded and left her apartment. Scully pulled her suitcase in behind her just enough so that she could close the door, locking it behind her. She broke into tears as soon as the lock clicked beneath her fingers.

She managed to find her way onto her couch, her tears turning into sobs. The sobs shook her body, but she did not take notice. Scully made no attempt to quiet her cries and began to hyperventilate. Then, just as soon as her tears began, they stopped. She sat bolt upright, her head cocked to the side, listening. She heard something. It sounded like...like a crying baby. She knew she must be hallucinating, but she could not help but listen. Then it came again. Scully jumped up, running to what should have been the nursery. The crying stopped. She spun around in a circle. She sighed. Scully did not understand why she was having these hallucinations, but she was certain that it was all in her mind.

Scully thought she should get some rest. She walked into her bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. She fumbled for a T-shirt and, after changing, collapsed into bed. In the state between awake and asleep, the sound came again. She opened her eyes and sat up, searching in the darkness for the apparition she expected. Nothing. The cries became louder. Scully turned on the stereo, drowning out the cries with classical music. The cries increased still in volume.

Scully screamed, "STOP IT!"

The sound left, only to return five minutes later. Scully turned up her stereo until the bed vibrated. Still, she could hear the crying. It would not stop. She sat up and flipped on the lamp next to her bed. She swung her feet over onto the cool hardwood floors and padded into the bathroom.

Her shaking hands fumbled with the childproof cap. Finally, Scully managed to retrieve and swallow two sleeping pills. Then, Scully walked through her bedroom and into the living room. She flipped her desk light on and rummaged through the drawers until she found the small package containing two earplugs. Through all of this, the disembodied cries haunted her. Soon, her scared cries matched them. With unstable hands, she inserted the foam earplugs and stumbled back into her bedroom. Her forgotten stereo vibrated the bed, lulling her to sleep, into which she sank willingly. The cries, though, stayed with her until she fully fell asleep. The unmuffled cries came from within Scully, a sick creation of her emotionally strained soul.

.xXx.

Mulder was hurt that Scully did not want him to be with her. He drove home in a daze. As he stepped out of the elevator and to his apartment door, he let out a choked sob. Mulder fumbled with his keys and stumbled into his apartment, barely shutting the door behind him. Tears streamed down his face as his body, overcome with suppressed sobs, sank into the doorframe entering his living room. Mulder sat there, his lanky body crumbled in grief, for a good twenty minutes. Finally, he managed to stand up and stumble over to his desk.

He struggled to open the left drawer of his desk, jammed with too many papers. After tossing the papers onto his floor, he retrieved what he had been searching for-his old photo album. He had not looked through it since before he had gone to save Scully from Antarctica. It must have slipped his mind. Through his tears, he flipped through the pages of him as a young child. He smiled as memories flooded back. As he turned the page, his eyes locked on a picture of him at about four years old. He was holding Samantha; she was just a newborn. His mouth curved slightly into a sad smile, then he frowned. His sadness turned to anger, his anger to rage.

Mulder slammed the book shut, tossing it angrily back into the drawer. [why can't I have a baby now?]He yelled a barbaric grunt. The anger seemed to much to bottle up in one man's body. He searched for something on which to place his anger. He grabbed the lamp off his desk, yanking the cord out of the wall and leaving him in complete darkness. Mulder hurled the lamp across the room, listening to the ceramic crash into a hundred pieces as it slammed against a wall.

"WHY? What the fuck did I do?" Mulder boomed. "I don't deserve this, GOD!"

He blamed God. "Is it because I don't go to church? Is it such a fucking big deal?"

He blamed William. "Why couldn't you have just been born alive? I don't understand. It can't be that hard to do!"

He blamed Scully. "Why ask me to help you when you are the one to mess the damn thing up! This is your fault, Scully. I didn't do this. Why won't you talk to me about it. I didn't do anything!"

He blamed THEM. "Like you don't already cause enough fucking pain in Scully's and my lives. Leave us the fuck alone. The one joy, the one indulgence we make, and you have to screw us over."

He blamed himself. "You sorry sonuvabitch! You should have been there. You should have told her that it was all right to take the medicine, that it would not make her weak in your eyes. ASSHOLE!"

The rage filled him, his eyes turned a dark, stormy color Mulder spun around and punched the wall on his left. A picture fell off of the wall from the vibrations his fist caused as it collided with the wallboard. He pulled his bloodied fist out of the hole he made, cursing. Once again, he collapsed on the floor. Deep down, he did not blame anybody. For once, he didn't even blame himself. He propped himself up, leaning against his couch. He remained like that for the rest of the night, staring at the hole in the wall.

a/n: I hope this portrayed the emotions that Mulder and Scully felt. I hope Mulder and Scully were in-character, too.

Review, please!