Title: Here Without You
Author: FoxsDana
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Rating: PG
Classification/Key Words: Mulder/Scully romance, Scully POV, angst
Spoilers: The Unnatural, Nothing Important Happened Today
Summary: Dana Scully is left alone to raise her and Mulder's son William. She begins to feel new hope after reconnecting spiritually with Mulder. But will that connection be enough to hold her until she meets him again in the physical?
Dedication: To all my avid readers and especially to M & S forever who asked we to write a sequel to "I'll Go Wherever You Will Go". To the group "3 Doors Down" for writing a WONDERFUL song called "Here Without You" which inspired this fic. To all X-Philes present and future. And as usual to my wonderful and supportive husband who continues to inspire me every day. I love you Foxy!
Feedback: Please, I love it!
Archive: Sure! Just let me know where it's going!
Disclaimer: The characters of the X-Files do not belong to me but are the property of Chris Carter, 20th Century Fox and 1013 Productions. Any similarities to the names or places of the fictional aspects of this story are purely coincidental.
NOTE: This fic is a sequel to "I'll Go Wherever You Will Go" and continues on from the last scene.
I awake with a start and sit up looking around the room. Is he here? "Mulder?" I ask looking into the darkness. I keep looking around the room with hope in my eyes. And that is something that I haven't felt myself in a long time. I can still practically smell him; still feel his touch on my skin. It felt so real! It was true what Missy said we have reconnected again. But now as I find myself sitting here in the darkness alone, I want more than that! Now that I've seen him again I want him more than ever. I want him beside me to take the place of this cold spot on the other side of the bed.
I lay my head on the other side. HIS side. I have slept in this bed all alone for so many years, so why should it affect me now? But it is different now. Ever since the night our relationship changed and I made my choice, he consumes my every thought. Not a moment goes by that I don't think of him. He is normally lying beside me here. I can almost feel him nuzzling my neck. Feel his hot breath, which sends shivers all through me. God how I love this man. This beautiful, tender, loving, inspiring, wonderful man. I know that not everyone would agree with that last sentence but then again they don't know him the way that I do. This man knows me more than I even know myself. He has been so many things for me: friend, partner, lover, confidant and teacher.
Looking up at the ceiling, I remember the first day I met him. I can see him turning to face me wearing those reading glasses and giving me that smirk. Little did I realize that those hazel eyes would become a part of my life in more ways than I could possibly imagine. That I would loose myself in them and see that twinkle that was associated with him getting those crazy ideas. But even now I would love to hear one of those ideas crazy or not. And how many of those ideas ended up being right in the end? But he never rubbed it in my face like most would. No, he respected my opinions and valued them. Regardless of what others believe I did trust him right from the start. Why, do you say? I honestly can't answer that question. I guess it was because I just somehow knew. And I knew from that day forward that I would follow this man to the ends of the earth if I had to. And I have. And I wouldn't change anything for the world for it now.
As I lay there, I hear an all too familiar cry in the background. But there is something almost unusual about this particular one. It's not a cry of hunger or from wetness. It's a cry from deep within. It's like he knows what I am thinking and feeling. He too understands the emptiness that I feel. But he doesn't long for me. He longs for his father. How can a baby long for someone that he had only been with a few days? Is the connection between father and son truly that strong? I never would have believed it but I do now. He knows his father and will never forget him. He is the product of a special kind of love, a special bond unlike no other. He is our miracle that was never supposed to be. The only thing that keeps me going from day to day. The only part of him that I have left. My dear, sweet little baby boy. My little William.
I slowly rise from the bed and head into the nursery. I can see him lying in his crib crying with his tiny arms outstretched. It's like he's searching for something that isn't there. Maybe he's still looking for his father's touch? I lower my hands into the crib and gently scoop him into my arms. His crying seems to be more persistent tonight so I try patting his back gently. I am unsuccessful in this endeavor and start rocking him in my arms. His crying continues so I take him out to the living room and to a lone rocking chair, which sits by a window. This rocking chair was a gift from someone who has become a great friend to me ever since Mulder has been gone, Monica Reyes. She knows how much William means to me and comes over just about every day just to see him. She tries not to think of Mulder as she looks at him but I know she does and just doesn't want to tell me. She's the one who told me that William misses his father. That that is the reason he cries for no reason.
Easing myself into the chair, I continue to cradle his body. Shifting him slightly, I begin the gentle rhythms of the rocker. I then sing to him softly.
Hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake, you shall have,
All the pretty little horses
His crying lessens as I continue the movements of the rocking chair. This was the very same song that my mother used to sing to me when I was a baby. It's a tradition I have now passed on to my son. As I continue rocking him I slowly undo my pajama top. This is another way that we have bonded. How many nights have we spent in front of this window? Taking my breast out I offer him a nipple and he begins suckling. It's times like this that I'm glad to be a mother. When it can just be him and I bonding as mothers and sons do. Will he remember lying here at night with me nursing on my breast? I can assume not. But I will always have this memory.
As he continues to suckle, I look down at him and caress his forehead gently. "Your father, he is out there somewhere, William. And I know he misses you and loves you very much. And as soon as he is able to, he will be right here back with us. And then....he can sit right here in this very rocking chair at night with you like I am. You would like that wouldn't you? And then...when you're older, he can take you outside and teach you how to play baseball and basketball. And he can get you your own mitt and bat. And then...he can show you how to hit the ball."
I start to tear up as I think of how Mulder taught me to hit. That night we were at that baseball field with only an audience of one pitcher boy and the stars in the sky. The only sound that could be heard in the night was the cracking of a bat and our laughter. He had held me so close and I hadn't pushed him away. That birthday present was the best I had ever received. Because for that brief time I had been able to forget about the troubles of the world and become a person that I had thought was dead: Dana Katherine Scully. A person would have a hard time believing that such a simple thing as teaching me how to hit a baseball could change my life but it did.
And now as I stare down at our son, I realize that he will be wonderful just like his father. The thought of Mulder playing catch in the front yard with William is almost too much for me to bear. I can hear the laughing and giggling from William as Mulder tickles him. See them rough housing, as I have to call them into dinner. Boys will be boys. But these are two boys I am VERY proud of. These are two of the most important people in my life.
Looking down I realize that William has stopped suckling and is fast asleep. I gently take the nipple out of his mouth and tuck my breast back into my top. I bend down and carefully kiss the top of his forehead. "Sleep well, my little William. Dream of your father coming up and taking you in his arms. He's coming for us, William." I let out a yawn. "He's....He's coming." I then can feel my own weariness starting to overtake me from my astral journey earlier. "He's coming." My eyes start to close. "He's coming." I then finally succumb to my need for rest and fall asleep in the rocking chair with William in my arms.