May 2001

The hospital doors closed and Mulder stood outside of them, his pulse racing and head spinning. Scully and his son were on the other side of those double doors. The adrenaline in his veins kept him from falling forward, his body wound tight with worry.

He paced in front of the doors, his eyes looking through the small square windows at every turn, knowing he would not see them, but trying nonetheless. His hands were shaking, feeling empty without the small baby held within them. As soon as the helicopter had landed on the roof, a nurse had taken him from Mulder, as Scully was strapped to a gurney.

Questions were shouted at him but he could not understand them all, the helicopter loud and his mind on the woman he loved, who was unconscious as they pushed her into the hospital. The baby was crying and he felt like he could cry along with him.

"You're the husband?" They had shouted and he shook his head. No, not the husband.

"That's my son," he had said, his voice breaking. "And she's my… my… Scully. She's…"

"Sir, if you're not the husband, I'm sorry but you'll have to wait here. Sir! Stop! Wait here. We need to tend to them. Wait."

Wait.

Not his best trait, especially when it came to the possibility of Scully being hurt or suffering. Add in their baby… baby… how the fuck did they expect him to wait patiently? He glanced up at the doors again and sighed heavily, knowing he would undoubtedly have to do just that, if he was going to be allowed to see them.

Looking around, he saw there was a waiting area close by. Walking over to it, he collapsed into a chair. Leaning his head back, he let out a deep breath and shook his head, thinking back to the sight of Scully on the bed in that dilapidated building.

He had run to her side, kneeling down beside her and saying her name softly. She opened her eyes with an exhausted smile, the baby lying on her chest, her body and hair soaked with sweat.

"It's a boy," she had whispered, looking into his eyes. "We have a son." She laughed softly and her eyes rolled back into her head, and her body went limp.

He had yelled for Monica, as he took the baby from Scully. Grabbing a towel, he had wrapped the baby and handed him to Monica. Uncovering Scully, he had seen the blood on the sheets and he froze.

"Mulder, she needs to get to the hospital. Come on!" Monica had yelled over the pounding in his ears as he saw the amount of blood she had lost.

Covering her again, he had lifted her, blood covered sheets and all, hurrying to the helicopter, Monica following behind with the baby. Setting Scully inside, laying her on the bench seat, he had climbed in and Monica handed him the baby.

"Take care of them!" she had shouted, holding his gaze with a nod. He had held the baby close and nodded back, shouting to the pilot to get them to a hospital.

Monica had shut the door and waved them off, becoming further away as they rose in the air. He had forgone any seatbelts, sitting on the floor beside Scully to monitor her breathing and be sure she was okay, the baby surprisingly quiet as he held him tightly in his arms.

He had rested his forehead against hers and whispered his love for her, the baby, and his pride in her bravery. She remained unconscious, her breathing even, while his own was erratic and heavy. He never looked anywhere but her face, watching to be sure she remained breathing.

"Agent Mulder! Coming up on the hospital. We're about three minutes out!" the pilot had yelled back to him and he nodded, unable to yell in return.

"Three minutes, Scully," he had said, his lips pressed against her temple. "We're almost there. Hold on."

Those three minutes had felt like an eternity, his worry for her increasing the longer she remained unconscious.

Finally, they had begun to descend and landed. The door opened and everything became a blur of activity, leading to where he was now; sitting alone in the waiting room. His heart felt as though it had been torn into two pieces, each of them holding onto half of it as they were taken from him.

Taking a deep breath, he realized he could smell the baby in his clothes. Lifting the collar of his shirt to his nose, he inhaled, the scent clinging to the fabric. It was indescribable, something he had never smelled before. As he held the shirt, he saw his hands had traces of blood on them and his stomach turned.

Standing up, he found a bathroom and washed his hands, needing to rid himself of the red streaks of Scully's blood. Looking into the mirror, he took in his appearance. Not only was her blood on his hands, but his shirt and jacket as well. It was nothing compared to what she must have lost, but seeing it made him feel weak.

They had been injured in the past, both of them bloodied and broken, hell, he was currently sporting a gash on his forehead now. But seeing her lying there, the dark red blood against the white of the sheets, watching her body go limp… He felt bile in the back of his throat and he swallowed it down.

He took a deep breath, and scrubbed at his hands harder than before, the water hot, but not hot enough for him to feel completely clean. Her blood on him began to feel like a bad omen and he wanted to be rid of it.

His hands clean, but his clothes still spattered with her blood, he opened the door and walked back to the waiting area. Pacing back and forth, he sighed deeply, his eyes on the doors as he did.

Eventually the adrenaline pushing forward began to abate. He sank into a chair again, everything suddenly feeling very heavy. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. If anything happened to either of them…

"Sir?"

He looked up and saw the nurse who told him to wait earlier. He stood up quickly and she gave him a small smile.

"They're okay?" he asked and her smile grew.

"The baby is doing fine. We have him in the neonatal unit right now, just to keep an eye on him. He's okay, considering his welcome into the world seemed rather traumatic." She looked at him and he nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly.

"He's doing well, in good health, with a very strong set of lungs," she said with a chuckle. He smiled faintly, worried that something was wrong with Scully and she was not saying.

"And his mother?" he whispered, his heart pounding hard, his breath catching in his throat.

"She's still in the operating room, but should be in recovery soon. She lost a fair amount of blood, but she will be okay."

"Did she regain consciousness?"

"Briefly. She told us her name, asked after the baby, and you. I assume it was you, if you're Mulder." She smiled and he nodded.

"I am," he said, reaching for his wallet, showing her his identification. She nodded and he put it back into his pocket. "How long until I can see them?"

"You could see the baby now, but it will be a little while yet before she's in recovery and resting." He nodded and the nurse smiled, pushing the doors open, and letting him walk ahead of her.

He waited for her to step ahead of him and then followed her to the neonatal unit and walked inside. He was instructed to wash his hands at the sink before he could see the baby.

"Do you… is there a chance I could get a gown, or a scrubs shirt? I don't… my clothes…" he said, gesturing down and she nodded, disappearing through a door and coming back with a light blue scrubs shirt and a pink plastic bag.

He nodded his thanks, taking the items into a nearby bathroom and changing hurriedly, putting his sweat and blood covered clothes in the plastic bag. Not bothering to wash his hands, knowing he would need to do it again, he left the bathroom and found the nurse.

Washing his hands and she instructed, he dried them and then held his bag of clothes, walking behind her further into the wing. They passed impossibly small babies incubators connected to breathing tubes and he felt his stomach drop.

"Just down here," she said quietly, motioning him to the left.

They walked into a small section and he saw the baby, his baby, their baby, sleeping peacefully in an open bassinet under a soft glowing warming light. He was connected to a monitor to register his heart and breathing rate, but nothing like the other babies they had passed. Mulder watched the baby's small chest rise and fall as he breathed and his eyes filled with tears.

"You can have a seat in the chair there," the nurse said softly, pointing to the rocking chair he had completely missed. "But first, you need this." She slid a bracelet around his wrist and he looked down, finding a white band which read, "baby boy Scully." He looked at the nurse in confusion and she smiled.

"You said you were the father and she confirmed it when we asked. We didn't have a name for him, so until we do, we go by the sex of the child and the mother's last name." She smiled and he nodded, looking back at the baby. "I'll leave you two alone, but I'm around if you need me."

"Can I hold him?" he asked nervously, glancing at her and she nodded.

"Of course. I can help you if you'd like," she said, and he nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief.

He set his bag of clothes on the small couch in the room and stepped over to the nurse who was expertly wrapping the baby and adjusting the monitor wires, before handing him to Mulder. "Mind his head. Yes, just like that, there you go."

He exhaled a breath as he looked down at the little person in his arms, paying no attention to words the nurse said as she left them alone, and he sat down in the rocking chair.

He watched the baby's tiny hands opening and closing, as he made grunting noises, his body moving slightly. He frowned with his eyes closed, his eyebrows then rising up and back down as he settled, grunting again as he exhaled and fell asleep. Mulder ran his fingers softly across the top of his head as he stared at him.

Perfect. He was perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, two ears, a nose and a mouth. He placed his hand on the baby's chest and felt his heart beating quickly as his lungs expanded, providing him with the oxygen he needed.

Unable to tear his eyes from him, he sat in the chair, rocking their son, breathing in his scent. Laughing softly, he cried with relief. The worry he had felt since he came back, the anger he carried inside, despite his knowledge that it was their baby, disappeared at the sight of the miracle he now held in his arms.

He was perfect. They had created a perfect child where the improbability was stacked so high against them, it could only be viewed as a miracle.

"My son," he whispered. "I have a son. You are my son." He traced his fingers over the baby's head, cheeks, and nose. Bending his head, he kissed the small hands, smiling at him as he sat back, watching him sleep.

"Mr. Mulder?" Came the nurse's soft voice again, minutes or possibly hours later, and he looked up at her. She smiled and walked over to him. "Miss Scully is in recovery and asking for you. I can take you to her, but we need to leave the baby here. Once she's out of recovery, we will move her to the maternity ward. As soon as the doctor has cleared him to leave this ward, we can have them together in the same room."

He nodded and she carefully took the baby from him, laying him back in the bassinet, arranging the wires and blankets around him. Kissing his fingertips, he touched the baby's head once more. Picking up his bag, he followed the nurse from the room, anxious to see how Scully was doing.

Stepping inside the recovery room, he saw Scully lying peacefully, the only person in the room. He swallowed and the nurse squeezed his arm before walking away and leaving them alone. He walked over to her quietly and set his bag on the chair beside her. Taking her hand, he stared at her, watching her sleep, the color back in her cheeks.

"Scully," he whispered. "I'm here." He held her hand and felt her squeeze his fingers weakly.

"Hmmm," she hummed, attempting to open her eyes.

"Rest, Scully. Everything is okay."

"The baby. Is he…?"

"He's perfect. He's safe and completely perfect."

"Hmmm," she hummed again, nodding her head very slowly twice and then she was asleep, her grip on his fingers slackening.

He pulled the chair closer to her bed, never releasing her hand, as he stared at her. Sitting down, he stroked her hand with his thumb, brushing her still slightly damp hair back with the other.

"He's perfect, Scully. I don't know how he… but he is… he's beautiful. You did that, Scully," he whispered, tears filling his eyes as he realized again what they had created, and what she had done to bring him safely into the world. He dropped his forehead to hers and he sighed deeply as he closed his eyes.

"Mulder," she mumbled and he let out a soft, incredulous laugh.

"I love you, Scully. You continue to amaze me, every single day," he whispered, over the large lump in the back of his throat.

"I love you," she breathed and he laughed again. He raised his head, opening his eyes to stare at her, shaking his head and laughing softly, his worry for her and the baby, now gone.

Elated. He felt elated. She was okay. Tired and sore as hell, but she was okay.

They both were. They all were.

Kissing her softly, her lips warm and sweet, he felt his heart nearly bursting. They were a family now, the three of them. He had been so worried and now they were reunited, never to be separated again. They were safe, gaining their strength, and healing together.

Kissing her once more, he laid his head on the bed and took a deep calming breath, her hand held tightly within his own. He smiled at the sight of their white matching hospital bracelets, knowing their son had one of his own around his tiny ankle. The three of them, bound and linked together by blood and small plastic hospital bands.

Closing his eyes, the fear and worry lessening within his body, he took another deep breath, exhaustion finally taking over as he fell asleep beside her.