Mourning - Requested by baronessblixen and suitablyaggrivated - July 30th, 2019

Season 9 - "You can't sit there all day"

"How is she?" Doggett whispered when his partner opened the door. If he had to take one guess based off her red, puffy eyes and the apparent absence of the red headed agent in question, he'd say about just as good as he'd expected.

Monica just shook her head before her face crumpled. "Hey, hey, shhh," he comforted, pulling her into his arms.

"I knew it would be hard, but I didn't realize just how much it would hurt," she admitted, speaking quietly into his shirt to make sure the words were only heard by him.

"I know, Mon," he whispered, rubbing her back while she sniffed.

They all loved that little boy.

"Why don't you take a break, go get some air. Let me talk with her for a while, okay?" he stated softly, pulling back at the same time she did.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice cracking from strain.

"Yeah, go ahead," he confirmed and stepped aside so she could leave.

He stepped into the apartment he'd visited so many times in the past few months and shut the door behind him. But unlike the many other visits, there were no sounds of a baby cooing from the other room and he came bearing only the weight of his empathy instead of extra formula or diapers. "Just want to help. I know this shit's expensive."

Now, the only sound he could hear was that of grief in its rawest form, the sound he heard his ex-wife making all those years ago. The sounds only a mother without a child can make.

Swallowing down his own feelings, he walked the stretch of the hallway to the room he knew she'd be in. Despite his many offers to remove the furniture for her so she wouldn't have the constant reminder, she'd chosen to keep the room exactly as it was. Not that he'd expected any different.

The animals on the yellow and blue banner were still smiling, the sun still reflected warmly through the curtains, the mobile still spun over the crib, the amount of normalcy was almost suffocating when contrasted so heavily with the sight of Scully sitting on the floor next to the crib while staring blankly at a blue pacifier held in her fingers. From his vantage point he could see the indentations on the blanket from when William was lifted out one last time and he had a feeling that might have been what led to Scully sitting on the floor.

Her face didn't seem to register he'd even entered the room.

"You can't just sit there all day, Scully," he told her softly, taking a few steps towards her.

From her profile, he saw her try to form words, but ended up closing her eyes instead, resulting in big fat tears rolling down her cheeks in the path already laid by many predecessors.

He let out a sympathetic sigh before walking closer and sitting down next to her on the floor, ignoring the way his knees cracked on the way down. Doggett didn't know if she'd want to be touched, so he didn't make a move to wrap an arm around her. Instead, he put his hands in his lap and followed her gaze to a tag on the bottom of the crib.

CAUTION: TWO PERSON ASSEMBLY REQUIRED

He knew she was reading that like it was some manifestation of fate mocking her and he wished more in this moment than ever before that Mulder would somehow come out of the woodworks and comfort her in the way only, he seemed to know how. Because Doggett knew no matter how many times they tried to tell her he'd understand, it wouldn't matter until the words came out of his mouth.

She'd been told that she was doing what she had to do, that there was no other choice, by every person they knew. He didn't know how to comfort a wound he'd never fully learned to heal himself. He didn't know what to say. "When Luke disappeared, my wife did exactly what you're doing right now," he admitted.

He didn't know where he was going with this, but she'd given him her attention and he wanted to say something worthwhile. "I know the circumstances are different and all, but," he swallowed and took a moment before continuing. "I regret not being there for her because she stayed in that dark place for months. I-I know moving on seems like an insult to the life you'd wanted, the life you'd been dreaming of," he swallowed thickly as her chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears. "But you can't lose yourself in this grief."

"I'm sorry, John," she croaked, clearly speaking for the first time in what had to have been hours.

He shook his head dismissing her sympathy, "I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to know that the pain will stay with you, but you can't let it destroy you. William wouldn't want that." Then after a pause, he added, "Mulder wouldn't want that."

She sobbed at the mentioning of Mulder, her imagined betrayal of him undoubtably the biggest source of her grief, and he didn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to him, relieved when she seemed to take comfort rather than offense in the gesture. "How will he ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Scully. He himself went into hiding to protect you and William, he'll understand you needed to put your son in a similar position for the same reason," he explained, rubbing up and down her arm soothingly.

"I just wish I could tell him," she cried.

"You will," he replied confidently.

His attention was drawn to her as she lifted her head up to look at the mobiles of stars, the sunlight hitting them in such a way that the pain reflected the light. Her brows crinkled as she fought back a sob and, still looking intently at the mobile, whispered, "I hope you're right."