Mulder followed one of the nurses into a quieter room down the hall, the bright, sterile lighting making everything feel surreal. He glanced down at the tiny bundle in his arms, the baby barely bigger than a loaf of bread, and couldn't help but feel a flicker of panic.
The nurse, a cheerful woman in her early fifties named Karen, noticed his hesitation. "First-time dad?" she asked with a kind smile.
Mulder nodded, still trying to process everything. "Yeah. I mean… I think so," he mumbled, then immediately winced at how that sounded.
Karen chuckled, not pressing for an explanation. "You're doing great," she said reassuringly. "Babies can sense when someone's nervous, but look—he's completely calm with you. That's a good sign."
Mulder glanced down at the baby again, who was staring up at him with unfocused, half-lidded eyes. The boy let out a soft coo, his tiny fingers flexing against the swaddle, and Mulder felt his chest tighten with an emotion he couldn't quite name.
Karen motioned toward a nearby bassinet. "Alright, Dad, let's put him down here so we can get started. Don't worry, I'll talk you through everything."
Reluctantly, Mulder laid the baby down, his hands lingering for a second as if afraid to let go. Karen began unwrapping the swaddle, revealing impossibly small arms and legs. The baby kicked instinctively, letting out a startled cry at the sudden freedom.
Karen moved efficiently, checking the baby's weight, length, and reflexes while explaining everything she was doing. "Looks like he's about eight pounds even—good size. And twenty-one inches long. Tall boy."
Mulder couldn't help but smile at that. "He clearly doesn't take after his mom," he murmured.
Karen raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, she grabbed a tiny thermometer and gently placed it under the baby's arm. "He's doing great so far. Nice strong lungs, healthy color, good reflexes."
As she worked, Mulder's gaze never left the baby. The tiny fingers, the tuft of red hair, the scrunched-up expression of displeasure as Karen checked his vitals—it was all mesmerizing. He couldn't believe this little person had been inside Scully just hours ago.
When Karen finished the initial check-up, she motioned for Mulder to follow her to a small sink. "Time for his first bath. You're welcome to help if you'd like."
Mulder hesitated. "I don't want to screw it up."
Karen smiled patiently. "You won't. I'll guide you."
With her help, Mulder carefully held the baby over the sink, supporting his head and neck as Karen showed him how to gently rinse and wash the newborn's delicate skin. The baby squawked in protest at the water, his tiny fists flailing, but Karen reassured Mulder, "He's fine. Babies usually hate their first bath—it's a big change from being all snug and warm."
Mulder couldn't help but laugh softly at the baby's indignant expression. "He's got a lot of fight in him. Definitely his mother's kid."
Karen handed him a soft towel, and Mulder carefully wrapped the baby up, patting him dry as he quieted down. "See?" Karen said. "You're a natural."
Mulder didn't feel like a natural—his hands were trembling slightly, and he was pretty sure he'd gotten water everywhere—but when he looked down at his son, all bundled up and staring at him with wide, curious eyes, none of that mattered.
Karen placed a small, knitted cap on the baby's head to keep him warm and handed him back to Mulder. "There you go. All cleaned up and ready to go back to Mom."
Mulder cradled the baby against his chest, his hand supporting the back of his head. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the tiny life in his arms.
"Welcome to the world, little guy," he whispered, his voice thick.
The baby blinked up at him, his gaze unfocused but intent. Mulder swore he saw a spark of recognition there, as if the boy somehow knew him.
With that, he turned and headed back toward Scully's room.