Beginning Notes: There's another "mini-crossover" with Queen of the South in this chapter, but you don't have to have seen QoS to understand the story.

"There's a flower that grows in the darkness. It's called lirio de los valles. It actually does better in the shade. It blooms in spite of the darkness. … So many reasons it shouldn't exist. It must be celebrated."

~~ Teresa Mendoza, Queen of the South, S01E04

October 2018

Scully finished typing up her review of the autopsy report that Monica had requested her opinion on, hit send, then slowly and carefully rose from her chair. King looked up at her expectantly, and she assured him that everything was fine; she just had to urinate for about the 15th time in an hour. As her due date neared, their dog had been staying close to her, as if he sensed she needed extra protection. The puppy they had taken in months before had grown into a very large, imposing-looking dog. She waddled towards the bathroom, thankful that their office was on the second floor, where both bathrooms were. It would have been a colossal pain in the ass if they hadn't turned Mulder's old first-floor office into Jackson's bedroom.

Mulder and Jackson had spent the summer decluttering the house, rearranging it to suit the fact that a family was living there now and readying it for the baby's arrival. The tiny third bedroom upstairs, which Mulder had called a "storage room" and Scully called a "junk room," had been turned into a modest but functional office that acted as the official home base of their new consultancy, M&S Investigations. (Mulder had suggested "S&M," hoping that Scully wouldn't notice the double entendre. She had.) The day her boys hauled Mulder's desk from the living room up to the new office, Scully remarked to Mulder that they had finally moved up from the basement to the top floor.

Mulder had another office at Quantico, and she had one waiting for her if she wanted it. He taught a profiling class two days a week, and she had an open invitation to teach forensics once her maternity leave was over. They also lent their expertise to consulting for the X-Files Division, now headed up by Monica, as well as other FBI divisions, law enforcement agencies, and even the occasional individual around the country. Mulder had been right about the depth of their referral network. They didn't have to look for clients; clients found them, and even with help from Doggett and Skinner, both semi-retired now, they had to turn cases away. Although Scully was technically on leave, her at-home work providing second opinions on autopsy findings kept her busy. She had pulled back in the final month of her pregnancy, and the report she'd just completed was the last she had booked.

Jackson and his mother hadn't had any shared visions or dreams since the one they'd shared with Mulder all those months ago. They hypothesized it was because they lived together now; there was no need to communicate through dreams and visions when they could speak to each other whenever they wanted.

About halfway through Scully's pregnancy, Jackson had begun "hearing" Lily in a vague sense. "She doesn't have words, so it's more like impressions and feelings, like she's warm, or content, or uncomfortable," he'd explained.

After using the toilet, Scully waddled over to what would soon, very soon, be their baby daughter's bedroom. Scully had insisted that the room not be painted pink or have other stereotypically feminine decor. They'd ended up painting the walls a light grey and filling the room with bright, cheerful child's furniture. The corner where the baby's crib sat was accented with a colorful stencil of a whimsical woodland scene with a deer, an owl, a rabbit, and of course a fox. The baby mobile featured a sun, moon, and Earth with stars, an astronaut, a rocket ship, and a little UFO with a green alien inside.

In addition to Mulder going completely overboard, their friends and family had been sending them a steady stream of baby toys, children's books, and clothing, much of it featuring foxes and aliens. This baby is going to be so spoiled, she thought as she looked around, her hands on her enormous midsection. While Lily was within normal limits, she was going to be a large baby.

A Halloween baby. When Dr. Adams had confirmed that Halloween was the expected due date, Mulder had been over the moon. Scully had tried to temper his enthusiasm by reminding him that a pregnancy due date was not a hard-and-fast deadline, but that didn't stop him from coming home with Halloween-themed baby clothes and enough Halloween decorations to set up a haunted house attraction. He had spent the better part of the day outside, turning the front yard area into a Halloween wonderland, complete with pumpkins, prop gravestones, and an assortment of inflatables.

Scully carefully made her way down the stairs, King loping behind her, and stepped out onto the porch, where Mulder was proudly surveying his work.

"The baby is going to love it!" he exclaimed, a goofy grin on his face.

"The baby isn't going to have any idea what's going on," Scully retorted, "and we never get any trick-or-treaters. This is all for you, Mulder, and you're taking everything down and putting it all away neatly after the holiday." The house was finally at the point where all of them could move around in it without bumping into things, and by god, it was staying that way. There would be no more "junk rooms."

King, confused, sniffed around Mulder's decorations and lifted his leg next to a gravestone. "HEY! NO! BAD!" Mulder screamed, rushing towards the dog as Scully doubled over in laughter, as much as a heavily pregnant woman could double over. Mulder groaned at his ruined décor. "Your dog is bad, Scully."

"You're the one who decided to decorate his bathroom."

Jackson's truck pulled up the drive. After he figured out where to park amidst Mulder's Halloween decorations, he stepped out, carrying his books, a pretty Latina girl with him. Mulder and Scully liked Isabella. She was a bright, creative girl whose family owned a local independent funeral home. She insisted it was haunted. Mulder and Jackson believed her and were entranced by her stories. Scully sided with the girl's parents, who pointed to their daughter's very active imagination and the influence of her rather superstitious, Old World grandmother.

Isabella looked at the yard appreciably. "Cool decorations, Mr. Mulder!" Like Mulder, she viewed Halloween as a bigger holiday than Christmas. "I think my parents might have a couple of casket ends from models they don't sell anymore, those things they put on display walls. Want me to ask them? They'd look great in your graveyard!"

Mulder grinned. "Thank you, Isabella. I'll take them!"

Now it was Scully's turn to groan. Why couldn't her son be dating the veterinarian's daughter?

"We're going to go study for calc," Jackson said as he and Isabella approached the porch.

"Door OPEN, Jackson!" Scully reminded him, getting a "Yeah, yeah, yeah" as the teens disappeared into the house.

Isabella was special. Not special like Jackson or his mother, but special like Teresa. Her abilities were not engineered; she had been born with them. Teresa saw glimpses of the future. Isabella saw glimpses of the dead.

Jackson could be honest with Isabella about himself and his family. She didn't shrink away from him; she accepted and embraced him for who he was. She was supposed to have met him, she said, just as she was supposed to have been born to parents in the funeral business. She also felt strongly that Jackson had a special purpose in life, and that being sent back to his birthparents, who also had a special purpose, was no accident. He was supposed to find them again.

Jackson was uncomfortable with this. He knew that the cigarette-smoking bastard who he'd sent straight to Hell had claimed he had a "special purpose" as well: to bring about the end of the world. But his girlfriend was adamant that the purpose she envisioned was something positive. "Maybe that was your purpose, to kill him and end his plans, but I don't think so," she said. "There's something else. I don't know what. Something. I can feel it. I don't think it's happened yet."

Early morning, October 31, 2018

They were sitting together on a beach in some exotic, faraway land. It was the first time he'd dreamed of her since she'd shown him the future she'd wanted him to return to and claim. "I did what you asked," Jackson told Teresa. "I haven't tried to contact you. I've seen you in the news. They say you're a murderer, that you killed Epifanio in cold blood."

Teresa shook her head. "You know it's more complicated than that, Jackson."

"I know. I know you."

She put her arms around the young man she'd treated as a surrogate son and pulled him into an embrace. Then, she sat back, keeping her hands on his shoulders and giving him a level look. "Your sister will be born very soon. There are so many reasons this child should not have existed. When your parents leave for the hospital, you must go with them. Don't let them leave without you. Do you understand?"

"What? Why?"

"This is important, Jackson, and we don't have a lot of time. You must go with your parents to the hospital. Promise me that you will go with them."

"Okay, I promise, but why-?"

"You will know what to do."

Jackson's eyes snapped open at banging on his bedroom door and Mulder shouting on the other side of it. He looked at the clock beside his bed; it was just after 2:00 a.m. "Jackson! Jackson, wake up!"

"Yeah, I'm awake. Come in."

Mulder opened the door. He looked nervous but elated. "I'm taking Scully to the hospital. It's time."

Jackson nodded and was about to tell Mulder he'd come by the hospital later. Then, he remembered his dream. You must go with your parents. Promise me that you will. He jumped out of bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. "I'll be ready in a minute."

Mulder shook his head. "No, you've got school today, that big calculus exam? You can't miss that. Just keep your phone on you."

"No, Mulder, I have to come." He pulled on a tee-shirt and hoodie. "I can make up the test. I have to come."

"Jackson, no. Everything is going to be fine. You need to go take your test."

Jackson was frantic. He grabbed Mulder by the shoulders. "You don't understand. I have to go with you guys. She told me it was important, and I promised her."

"What? Promised who?"

"Mulder, I just saw Teresa in a dream, or a vision, or whatever. I have to come with you." Mulder looked confused. "Listen, it's, what, two in the morning? The test isn't until after lunch. I can come with you guys to the hospital, and if everything is fine, I can go to school late."

Scully called for Mulder from upstairs, and he sighed. He had about a million thoughts and emotions racing through his head and heart at once, and he didn't have the mental space to argue about this right now. "Okay, fine." He tossed the car keys at Jackson. "Go start the SUV and turn on the heater to warm it up. I'll go get Scully. I'm driving, though."

"We're going to have a Halloween baby! We're going to have a Halloween baby!"

Jackson had never seen Mulder so elated. Scully, too, was smiling despite the pain of contractions, holding her belly as she sat in the front passenger seat. They were nearing the freeway entrance, and so far, nothing of note had happened. Jackson was starting to wonder if his dream had been just that, a dream, nothing more.

"OH GOD HERE'S ANOTHER ONE ARRRGGGHHH!" Scully screwed up her face, gritted her teeth, and breathed her way through it. Once she'd settled down, she asked Jackson, "Can you feel anything from her right now? How does she feel?"

Jackson concentrated for a moment. "Pressure, not painful, but different. Something is different. She can tell something is happening."

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he heard Mulder yelp, then saw a bright light and heard a very loud GOONNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG reverberating through his skull, like someone was ringing the Liberty Bell next to his head.

Then silence and darkness, and a strange smell, and something soft in his face. Then screaming. Lily was screaming. Mulder was screaming. Mulder and Lily were screaming.

Scully was silent.

"SCULLY! SCULLAAAAYYYYYYY!"

The SUV rested on the side of a rural road a couple of miles from the freeway entrance. They were the only ones around. They had hit a utility pole, the passenger side having gotten it the worst, and all the airbags had deployed. Semi-conscious, Jackson had a vague sense – Did he watch it happen, or just think he did? – of Mulder calling to Scully from the driver seat, then, getting no response, stumbling out of his side of the car and over to hers.

"Oh my god oh my god no no no no no NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! SCULLAYYYYYYY!"

Jackson felt himself come awake. When he'd been shot in the head, the pain had been concentrated there. Now, he hurt everywhere. He felt the regenerative energy rising up inside him.

You will know what to do.

Lily's screams were getting weaker; Mulder's screams and pleas were getting more desperate. He pushed the regenerative energy back.

He knew what he had to do. He had to conserve it, and he had to get out of the car. He just prayed to whatever god may have been listening that this would work. His body objected to moving; the regenerative energy objected to being tamped down, and the car door objected to opening. By sheer force of will, he forced the door open and stumbled out of the passenger side.

It felt like walking through knee-high wet cement while enveloped in a thick red fog.

Scully's door was open. Mulder was on his phone with a 911 operator, crying and screaming. His nose was bloody, and he looked like he'd just bee on the wrong end of a fistfight, but he didn't seem to notice. Jackson thought he heard something about swerving to avoid a deer. He wasn't sure. It took everything he had to exit the car and move towards his mother, who was slumped against the airbag, motionless. He couldn't see any injuries, but there was blood visible between her legs. She and the baby had been knocked around, and something had ruptured inside.

Mulder let go of the phone. "Jackson! JACKSON! Can you help her? Please tell me you can help her, please, please, please…" Mulder stepped away from Scully to give Jackson room to move in, then crumpled to his knees.

Not able to speak, Jackson just nodded. He could still hear Lily's screams; that was good. Screaming meant that she was still feeling and living. He could feel Scully, too, a whisper deep in his mind. Help her. Not help me, Jackson noticed, but help her.

"Helping you both," he managed to get out. His tongue was thick, and his words were slurred. He took Scully's right hand in both of his and focused for all he was worth. He had done this before, but never to someone (two people) so severely injured, and never when he was injured himself. He saw the regenerative energy in his mind's eye as a burning light; he drew a deep breath and exhaled, picturing it pushing it out of his body and into hers, seeking, finding the rupture, regenerating, repairing, giving life back to his mother and his sister.

It wasn't just in his mind's eye anymore. It was visible now, glowing and burning as it went out of him and into Scully. With each deep breath and exhale, he pushed more and more, every bit of it he could muster. He felt like his bones were cracking, like his head was swelling and burning and going to explode into flames, but he kept pushing until Lily stopped screaming. She was okay. Unhappy from having experienced pain, a completely new sensation to her, but okay.

He heard Scully gasp and felt her jerk. He opened his eyes to see her looking right at him. Then he heard Mulder scream her name and his. He tried to turn to look at his father, but he had reached the limits of his endurance. He heard emergency sirens in the distance, but they sounded like they were underwater. He tried to smile at Scully but wasn't sure he succeeded. That's when everything went dark.

"Scully Scully oh my god Scully!" Mulder jumped to his feet and moved to help his family. Only moments ago, his wife had looked pale and dead. Unfortunately, now their son looked pale and dead. He wasn't sure who to go to first.

"Mulder?"

"Can you get up?"

"I – I think so." Scully looked around and noticed Jackson on the ground beside the car. "JACKSON!" she fumbled with her seatbelt. "I think it's stuck. Mulder, what happened?"

Mulder knelt beside his son. "Fucking deer in the middle of the road. I had to swerve so I didn't hit it." He put his finger on Jackson's neck. "He's breathing, and he's got a pulse. WHOA!" Mulder jerked away from his son as if he'd just been burned. Jackson's body briefly illuminated in a faint glow, then faded. He was still unconscious, but his color had returned.

"ARRGGGHHHHH!"

Mulder's heart went into his throat. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Yeah, just another contraction." She saw the blood between her legs and blanched.

"Scully, you won't believe what happened. Jackson, he – he saved you. I watched him. It was incredible. Do you remember any of it?"

She shook her head. "No, I just remember us talking, and me asking Jackson if he could hear Lily."

Jackson groaned, and Mulder gingerly tapped his shoulder. "Jackson! You there?"

"Yeah, I – are they okay?" He tried to sit up.

"I think so, thanks to you. Don't try to get up. The ambulance is almost here."

Jackson smiled at his father. "Told you I needed to come."

The emergency vehicles showed up moments later. Jackson was concussed and needed fluids. Mulder had a broken nose. The firefighters had to cut the seatbelt to get Scully out of the car, and the paramedics were very concerned about the blood, but to their confusion, they couldn't find anything wrong with her or the baby – other than that she was coming fast.

"Looks like you're going to get your Halloween baby," Scully said as she was loaded into the ambulance.

Jackson had repaired the hemorrhage, along with any other effects from the accident, but the jolt had apparently pushed the labor along. Scully went straight from the ambulance into the delivery room, Mulder insisting on following despite the doctors wanting to check him for head injuries. "I'll get scanned and jabbed after my wife has her baby," he'd snapped at the paramedics and the ER staff.

Dr. Adams had been paged and met them at the hospital. Mulder heard the paramedics tell her that they'd tried to figure out what had caused Scully to bleed, to no avail. Whatever it was, it had stopped. Other than being in active labor, she was fine, and they couldn't detect any signs of fetal distress, either. The doctor was perplexed but decided to put her questions aside when she saw how close Scully was to delivery. She hurried away to scrub up and instructed a nurse to get Mulder a set of scrubs.

Despite all the reasons she should never have existed, Lily Margaret Mulder, the child that blossomed in darkness, officially arrived at 4:06 a.m. on Halloween 2018, squalling her extreme displeasure at her tumultuous entry into the world.

After the nurses cleaned Lily up, weighed her, and checked her vitals, they wrapped her in a blanket and brought her back to her parents so that Scully could feed her. She weighed just over 8 pounds and was long and lean, like her father, with a tuft of Scully red hair on her head. Her nose and cheekbones were Scully's, and she had Mulder's eyes and full lips. She latched on to Scully's breast as soon as it was offered to her and began feeding with gusto.

"She's her father's daughter, Mulder," Scully laughed. Mulder was amazed; for all the pain she had been in only a short while before, his wife was absolutely radiant.

"She's so beautiful. Thank you, Dana," Mulder told her, kissing her forehead and snuggling up to her as she fed their infant daughter. Mulder never thought he could love another woman as much as his Scully, but looking at his Lily, he knew he would do anything for her.

Another doctor entered the room. "Excuse me, are you Mr. and Mrs. Mulder?" he asked, looking down at his electronic tablet.

"I'm Dr. Scully, and this is my husband, Fox Mulder," Scully responded, irritation in her voice. She'd just given birth and wasn't in the mood to suffer fools.

The doctor looked embarrassed. "I apologize. I'm Dr. DeSanctis. I'm treating your son, Jackson Van De Kamp."

"How is he?"

"He suffered a mild concussion, dehydration, and some soft tissue contusions. We're giving him fluids and want to keep him for observation, but I anticipate releasing him later today." He smiled at the baby. "Congratulations. I can have a nurse bring him to see you once we've got you in your room."

The doctors couldn't understand it. The family was the talk of the hospital.

Clearly, this patient had suffered some sort of rupture during the car accident – given her history, they suspected a placental abruption – but there was no sign of it. No scan or test could find a reason why she had bled on the scene, and other than going more quickly than would be expected, the delivery had been textbook-perfect. The patient was fine; she didn't even look like she'd been in an accident. Her husband had been on the side of the car that had suffered less damage, but he looked far worse for the wear.

Then there was the matter of their son, the boy with a last name different than theirs. He arrived at the hospital concussed, dehydrated, and with an elevated body temperature, but his improvement had been nothing short of remarkable. He had objected to being transported in a wheelchair to see his parents and his new sister, insisting that he could walk on his own.

Nobody could understand it.

Once Mulder had begun making calls and sending texts, Scully's room began to flood with gifts: flowers and balloons from Skinner, Monica and John, Scott and Ben, Karen, Tara and Bill, Isabella's parents, and even a few of Mulder's co-workers at Quantico.

Then, there was the gift from a family friend who wished to remain anonymous, a lily of the valley bouquet.

The unsigned card read, "She blooms despite the darkness. She must be celebrated."

End Notes: This seems a good a place as any to end this installment of The Next Files, but I have more planned for this "universe." Thanks for sticking with it; be seeing you!