From: Laura Starzynski Date: Wed, 24 Feb 1999 22:52:59 -0600 Subject: Filling Emptiness Title: Filling the Emptiness Author: Laura Starzynski Rating: R (adult situations) Category: SRA Spoilers: Emily/Christmas Carol Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Archive: Anywhere, just tell me! Summary: Angsty look at what happens when you just need more than you have. Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. Send no money. :) WARNING: This story deals quite a bit with the abortion issue (without giving too much away). I would like to say that the ideas in this story are NOT MINE. I take the 5th about my own opinion on this issue. Decisions in this story are my interpretation of how Mulder and Scully feel about the issue as they have to deal with it. Author's Note: I have to apologize about one thing in this story. It should be NC-17, but I respectfully refuse to write one. I don't do those things on the third date. Sorry. Insert one of your more favorite fanfic "doing it" scenes into the story, it would be much better than one I could write. Also note that I tried to keep the story dark, I promise I don't need therapy, I just have been having a bad couple of weeks. I adore feedback, good or bad, so if it moves you, send it to Cenhaf13@aol.com. Muchas gracias, senores y senoritas. Now, on with the show: ======================================================= Filling Emptiness -To be or not to be? That IS the question- Mulder thought while staring down at his gun. -Under the chin or in the mouth?- he pondered as tear after tear dripped down his cheeks and off of his chin. It had been six weeks and Scully was still missing. The first time it happened, it had been very hard; that was a cakewalk compared to the state he was in now. This time she had literally been ripped from his arms, mere minutes after he had discovered what it felt like to physically love and be loved by Dana Katherine Scully. Tears splashed on the gun and he checked its clip for the third time. It was full and ready; he snapped it back into place and clicked off the safety. He had never noticed it before, but the gun looked hungry. It was yearning for the heat of discharge spiced with the smoke of gun powder. It hungered for blood. Mulder knew that it was truly he who wanted to taste death. Not necessarily his own; he would most like to personally torture and maim whoever it was that stolen Scully, his beautiful friend and partner. Those that had taken her had left his soul bleeding like an amputee missing a vital part. He looked at the bottle of Jack Daniel's sitting in front of him. -No- he decided. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to make this decision and not cower behind alcohol. His emaciated gun eyed Mulder. If the abductors were not there, if they could not be found, who would feed its hunger? Six weeks ago to the hour and every second since then, Mulder's insides felt like they were being shredded to ribbons. The thundering pain of separation from a love as old as time between him and Scully, but in its physical infancy, nearly rendered him immobile in its volume. Mulder whispered, "Scully. I don't believe in God, I don't believe in religion, but I believed in you, in us." Tears continued to fall as he went on. "Please. I don't want to go on, I don't think that I can without you. Scully..." he choked on her name as her smiling face danced and faded like a ghost in front of his eyes. "Scully, are you out there? Don't make me live in a world where I can feel your warmth, love, and then have to live with the void it leaves!" Mulder dropped the gun and began sobbing with his head in his hands. His crystal world with all of his ideals, with everything he held sacred shattered again for the millionth time in six weeks. He moaned and sobbed and pleaded, "Don't leave me here like this! I need you. I'll promise you anything." Mulder began shaking violently. "Scully, I am so scared. If I knew you were dead, that would be one thing. A bullet and I would be dead, too. I don't want to breathe if you can't. But I DON'T know! I know nothing! They've taken you, they've taken everything!" Mulder stopped talking, but the tears kept coming. He tucked his gun away and simply sat in the darkness and cried. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Six weeks ago: Mulder was drunk. He was drunk and had only one thing on his mind. "Georgetown, please," he instructed the taxi driver, "Let's go to Georgetown." The taxi dropped Mulder off in front of Scully's building. He stopped momentarily and surveyed the sky. For those who knew him, they would guess he was looking for spacecraft and flashing lights. In truth, he wasn't. He was noticing how beautiful the sky looked. It was almost violent in its beauty and vastness. Mulder was noticing how the half moon was bright enough to turn the few clouds in the sky a bluish white. All of the stars shined brightly and he sought Orion, the constellation, like an old friend. Orion the hunter. Mulder was hunting, too. He hoped that his prey would win. In his alcoholic haze, he knew that he was going to say and do things better left undone. But he was frustrated and tired of tap-dancing around feelings and issues buried for far too long. He would put everything on the line tonight and suffer whatever consequences they held in the morning. Mulder took in a deep breath and walked up to Scully's apartment. He pounded on the door. Scully awoke and looked at the clock. 1:15. Terrific, she had just gotten to sleep and now her partner demanded her presence and expertise for something. No one else would be pounding on her door at such a late hour except for Mulder with a bee in his bonnet about something. Scully didn't bother with a robe as she padded to the door in satin pajamas. There was a slight chill in the apartment and she wrapped her arms around herself as she made her way to the door. "Mulder, wha-?" Scully started as she opened the door. She almost slammed it shut again because she didn't recognize the tall man standing before her. He was leaning with his head on his arm against the frame of the door. He looked at her with an unmistakable leer. "Invite me in," he said after a few seconds and brushed by her into the apartment. Confused, Scully brushed some of the hair out of her eyes, the other arm still clutched around her as she noticed Mulder swaying in the darkened living room. "Mulder, are you drunk?" His attention had wandered around the room but refocused on Scully when she spoke. "Umm-hmm," he confirmed. "Why are you here? What do you want?" Scully asked, irritated. "You," he said simply. He looked her dead in the eye and whispered fiercely, "I. Want. You." Scully stepped to him and began trying to steer him back to the door. "I think you should go home, Mulder. I'll call you a cab." She was facing him, trying to turn his shoulders towards the door. He was as immobile as a statue of marble. He looked back down at Scully with that same leer and she felt her arms drop to her sides in resignation. She knew that he was attracted to her, but she also saw it as her responsibility in the relationship to keep the professional distance. She was supposed to shoot down each of his half-hearted come-ons made with the understanding of mutual attraction and an "if the situation was different" air. Even if he was more than half-way serious, she felt she should uphold their professionalism. Scully had sacrificed too much to her job at the Bureau to be flippant about the kind of relationship she had with her partner. She brought those sacrifices to mind to help steel her defenses against Mulder, who it would be far too easy to fall for. Sacrifices including friends, peer respect, a social life, a family life, her sister, her chance at children, Emily. Scully looked at Mulder square in they eye and mentally dared him to try and break through her well-fortified barriers. Mulder was up for the challenge he saw in her icy stare. Mulder was tired and cold. He needed to feel the warmth of another human. Not necessarily physical, body-to-body warmth, but compassion beyond friendship. He wanted to feel actual love. Yes, he and Scully loved each other very deeply, but tonight it wasn't enough. He felt like he was scrambling for the few crumbs of actual affection that she seldom threw his way. He knew he got more than anyone these days, but he was starved for it and tonight would push all boundaries to sate that hunger. Mulder stepped very slowly towards Scully without suppressing the need in his eyes like he was accustomed to doing. She inched back, unafraid, but indifferent. They both knew it was a battle of wills, that he would never force anything, but only try his damnedest to spark a response to his advances. They also acknowledged the mask of ice Scully constructed and both wondered how strongly it was welded on. Mulder backed Scully into the corner of the living room. She leaned back against the V where the walls connected and stared blankly over Mulder's right shoulder. Mulder was mere inches away from all parts of Scully's body. He stood looming over her, trying to make his nearness affect her in the same way hers affected him. He breathed in her hair and shut his eyes. He could feel her every movement by the slight shifts in warmth in the air that surrounded him. He felt her steady breathing and overall stillness. This wasn't working. Yet. He stood there for minutes. Scully congratulated herself for the first victory. Their proximity to one another had warmed Scully and taken away the chill of her apartment. Mulder's nearness was very nice. She trusted him not to hurt her or try to intimidate her into doing something she did not want to do. But she did not believe that she would be willing to take the plunge into loving Mulder like he wanted to be loved right now. But she did like this a lot. Maybe he would call it quits now. Not a chance. Mulder was just getting started. Mulder moved his right hand towards Scully's left hip, but merely brushed her waist as he leaned forward and placed his hand against the wall. His clothes and her pajamas were touching, but the bodies that they covered were still not. Nothing was pressing nor rubbing, but Mulder allowed the promise, the anticipation of the touch linger and heighten with each passing second. He was a patient man, but now was the time to go for the jugular. With his left hand, Scully felt Mulder lightly brush the hair back and behind her ear, off of her neck. -Oh, God, that is nice,- Scully thought. Her breathing hitched as she exhaled at the touch. She closed her eyes as he leaned back to look at her. She couldn't allow him to see the damage that was being done. -Think Melissa,- she screamed inside, -Think about Emily!- her child, her lost legacy. But these suddenly turned against her. They were dead, Mulder was alive. Love was life-affirming. To take him in would help heal the festering wounds death always left behind. Love and life were within her reach, but years of practice and habit kept her from grasping at it. Mulder wasn't finished. He leaned in very close to her ear and again, simply waited. He allowed his breath to fall like warm whispers on her neck and shoulder. He had felt the change in her. Seen how she could no longer stare him courageously down. This was it. The hairs on the back of Scully's neck stood straight as the erector pili muscles within thousands of hair follicles tightened. She felt Mulder's moist breath on her sensitized exposed skin. It was warm. Scully stifled the mewling sounds she longed to make. She loved suspense, but the anticipation of what Mulder would and could do was slowly driving her mad. She began to arch her back to feel more warmth from his body to take away the chill of her own. She wanted more pressure, she wanted him to crush her against the wall, wanted him to make her hot. Mulder's mouth was slowly descending. He was breathing very steadily, but very softly. At long last, his lips made skin-on-skin contact. Scully flattened her hands against the wall and arched with all of the limberness that she could muster as Mulder held constant the feather-light pressure of his lips against her shoulder at the satiny edge of fabric and dragged them slowly towards her neck. As he turned his head to place ghostly warm kisses under her jaw, the stubble from his face produced tiny microscopic abrasions on her shoulder. When cool air hit them, all of the bones in her body turned to jelly. She lost the battle, she wanted him back, not in spite of everything she had lost, but because of them. However, when Mulder looked up at Scully from his ministrations, he saw no change in expression. He was drunk and failed to notice the sheer strength it was taking her to remain composed. Mulder decided that he might have gone too far, that it was best to leave now before he cause irreparable damage. He pushed away from her and began walking towards the door. Scully felt the rush of chill air descend upon her and knew that Mulder was leaving. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor, buried her face in her hands and began sobbing. Not the silent crying she had perfected as a youngster that prevented the rest of the word from knowing the damage it had done to her, but the full-out Donnie Pfaster bawling Mulder had only witnessed once before. Mulder turned slowly in amazement. -Oh God, what had he done?- He had only once before seen her so scared and unhinged. He quickly strode back over to her and joined her on the floor and began rubbing the back that was shaking with sobs. "You must hate me," Scully whispered to him. "What?" Mulder said intellegently.* "How can you leave now? How else could you come here, stir up all of these feelings and then turn on your heel and leave me alone?" "Scully... I...." Mulder tried. Her sobs had stopped but her hands still covered her lowered face as tears dripped between her fingers. Then, he felt the hunger again. Scully sitting so vulnerable right here in front of him made him want her more than anything. "Scully, I need you. I love you. But, I won't make you love me." "But you did! Don't you think that I've tried everything I could not to love you? I cling to my damned professionalism like a life raft, but you sucked me in. I can't love you, but I do." Scully looked up with a warmth he had only glimpsed in her friendly glances. Her eyes were on fire. "I need to say something else, Mulder. I know you know, but I still need it said. This will take time and patience to be done right, so neither one of us hurts one another. I am willing to go forward if you are willing to take equal responsibility in keeping what this is between us alive, to keep our bond healthy. I think that if we make these last steps and one of us folds under the pressure later, it will destroy both of us." "I won't fold," Mulder stated. He was suddenly sobered by the weight of the situation. He had never truly expected to win. They both won, but it was laying so much on the line. With his declaration, Scully crawled into Mulder's lap, pressing every square inch she possibly could to him tightly. She looked into his eyes, dark in the lack of light and with a hunger that equaled hers. She covered his mouth with her own. Neither felt any chill until much later that night, after they fell asleep in her bed in each others' arms. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The forty-second day. Forty-two days after Dana. She was right, of course. Taking those last steps would be what destroyed him. What would he be felling if they were just what they were before he got drunk, before they had slept together? Probably very similar, but without the ache that reached his core. That was the ache that came when Scully stiffened in his arms while he lay paralyzed. As she lifted out of bed in a blinding light, the ache started and grew. That was the ache he sat down every night after fruitless searching and considered suicide as a remedy to its icy pervaciveness. On this forty-second day, Mulder got the phone call-- "Georgetown Hospital ER," was all the disembodied male voice said. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mulder slammed through the hospital with a wild look in his eyes expecting the worst. He thought of the last time when she was on life support and knew the hell it brought everyone waiting for life to come back or extinguish. Mulder's heart nearly stopped when he saw a fully conscious and operational Scully dressed in a hospital gown laying in one of the stretchers. He broke into a run with a dopey grin on his face and was at her side. Upon seeing Mulder, Scully's face scrunched up with happiness and relief and she stretched both arms toward him. Mulder sat next to Scully and wrapped her in his arms. She was crying a little bit, but was obviously happy. "What happened?" Mulder asked, looking down at her and brushing the hair from her face and smoothing it down. Scully closed her eyes and pressed herself into his hands. "All I remember are lights. It was so white. It was like looking at the sun. I don't know who did this. I couldn't see. I felt pain, though. I don't know what kinds of tests they were running." Mulder was alarmed. He saw fear and open honesty in Scully's face. -We've apparently moved past `I'm fine.' Good.- "Do you hurt now?" Mulder asked, drawing away slightly. Scully held onto him tightly. "No, but I do feel off. I know something about me isn't right. The doctor here has seen puncture wounds in several places, but nothing else. I don't even know how I got here." "Its okay," Mulder looked down at her in awe. "You have no idea what its been like, Scully. I almost... lost hope." "Mulder, what do you mean?" Scully asked, alarmed. But just then, the ER doctor, Dr. Clot, ironically enough, walked in and made his last statements to Scully upon her release. The tall, jolly looking doctor emphasized that she not go to work or do anything stressful until they could get some results back and find out what had happened to her. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scully was treated to a warm welcoming at her apartment. Margaret Scully and a few friends were in attendance. Most left after an hour of expressing their happiness at her return. Mrs. Scully planned to stay the night, but also knew of the new relationship that existed between her daughter and Mulder. She excused herself and went out to the supermarket for a while. Scully sat propped up in bed and Mulder joined her with cups of hot tea. He sat in they straight back chair on her right. They lost no time discussing what happened. "What exactly do you remember?" started Mulder. "You were conscious when I saw you, how did you get to the hospital?" Scully squinted as she tried to piece together splinters of memory. "Other than lights and pain, which I remember very little of, I remember voices. I couldn't understand what they were saying. Their words were muffled and I think I was under some sort of sedation. The pain wasn't bad, just there." At these words, all of the little color Scully had in her face vanished. She turned as white as paper. Mulder jumped up, knocking his chair over. "Scully, what's wrong?!" he asked, panicked. "I feel sick." Scully got up and rushed to the bathroom. She felt waves of nausea course through her body. She assumed the position and vomited. She felt Mulder stroking her back and pulling her hair out of her face. "Thank you," Scully said, flushed the toilet and stood up on shaky legs. She went over to the sink and stared for a few seconds into the mirror, willing the residual nausea to go away. It did, so she took out her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth. "Flashbacks of college," she said, attempting humor and a grin flashed at Mulder. He looked so worried. "What's wrong?" he asked again. He felt fear; he couldn't lose her again. "Mulder, I don't know. If this was any other circumstance, I would say the flu," Scully said spitting and rinsing and returning to bed. Mulder followed and righted the chair and sat down again with his forehead creased with worry. "Should we call the doctor?" "No, he'll be calling us later with test results anyway. We can ask him then. As I was saying," Scully continued their conversation as if nothing had happened, "I woke up propped up next to the Emergency Room door at Georgetown Hospital. No one knows how I got there. I don't know, either." Mulder stared, amazed. He couldn't believe the strength of the woman in front of him. She had been six weeks missing and she could sit and talk about it like she was discussing her favorite television show. Perhaps it was the lack of perceived time passing. He decided not to dwell on the issue. She was back and alive and she still wanted him in her life. That was all that mattered to him right now. "Oh God, Scully, I don't care. Really, the only thing that matters to me is that you're back, that you're alive and well." He held her hand but he couldn't bring himself to look in her eyes. He was ashamed of his own weakness of not being able to protect her and to live without her. Scully squeezed his hand. "Mulder?" Mulder continued to look at the cross hanging from her neck. "Mulder, this isn't only about me." He suddenly looked up. He saw love and compassion and again felt ashamed at his own weakness. He stood up and turned around, he couldn't face her. "Mulder, how are you?" "It doesn't matter." "Yes it does. Look at me!" He turned, head lowered and defeated. He sat back down. "Mulder, I want to know what you went through." "No you don't. Scully..." "Mulder, this was easy on me. I don't remember. I never will, I bet. But you will have every memory of every second that we were apart. Those bastards use me to hurt you. Mulder, I know it hurts. I can only imagine what I would do if I was in your situation. I have thought about it. I would probably go to bed every night thinking about eating my gun rather than spend another useless day waiting and looking and feeling exactly the despair those bastards want me to feel." Mulder looked up again with another fear in his eyes. "Every night," he confirmed. "Every night." Scully scooted over on the bed and patted on the spot right next to her. Mulder climbed in bed and they wrapped themselves around each other. "Tell me about it, Mulder. I want to know." Tears began falling as Mulder explained his suicidal thoughts upon her abduction. His feelings of fear and despair at not knowing what she was going through. He explained his hatred he had for her abductors and for himself for letting her go. He talked and cried in Scully's arms as she kissed away his tears, joined him in crying, and peppered her side of the conversation with "it wasn't your fault" and "I think I would feel the same." Above all, she listened. She hung on his every word and searched his eyes for the hurt her presence could help relieve. The talking was cathartic and an hour later, they laid in bed lazily. Scully looked at Mulder's face, his mouth. She loved him, she wanted him. Scully leaned over and planted baby kisses along Mulder's jawline on the way to his mouth. Upon reaching it, she squeezed her lips tight to his. He was smiling. They both opened their mouths, hands reaching for one another when the phone on the bedside table trilled. Scully dropped her head on Mulder's chest and laughed ironically at the inconvenient timing of the call. Mulder smiled down at her and reached for the phone. He lifted it from the cradle and placed it on Scully's ear as she righted herself. "Scully," she said and threw a smile at Mulder. "Ms. Scully, this is Dr. Clot calling from Georgetown Hospital. I have some test results that you need to know about." At those words, Scully felt adrenaline pour through her veins. She knew something was wrong with her. Her hands were ice and her palms were slippery. She looked over at Mulder, his eyes questioning and his body tense. "Test results, already?" she said mainly for Mulder's benefit. She looked at the sky darkening out of the window. She looked back at Mulder and their eyes locked. He would support her. "OK, Dr. Clot, what have you found?" "Ms. Scully, you're pregnant. I am sorry to be so blunt, but there is no side-stepping this issue. Since you have no memories of what happened while you were gone, for six weeks, well..." Scully's eyes widened at his words. But wasn't she... she could NEVER have kids. -Who was the father? What was the father?- "Sir, Dr. Clot. Thank you for calling. I am a medical doctor and am well-aware of my options. Are there any other results?" "Umm, no. Not at this time. I recommend you find a doctor immediately. It would be best for everyone concerned if you decided to take care of this quickly." "Yes, thank you." Scully hung up, dazed. The words and their meanings weren't fully registering yet. Her hands trembled as only one thought entered her mind: Emily. Mulder was nearly beside himself. "Scully, what did the doctor say? What's wrong? Please," he pleaded that she snap out of it. With her eyes fixed on the corner of the room, she squared her shoulders to him and said in a mechanical voice, "I'm pregnant." Relief flooded through Mulder for a split second. She was not dying, not in danger. Then he realized the implications of her words. "You're WHAT?" he exclaimed. "But I thought..." Scully merely closed her eyes and nodded. Mulder got out of bed, began pacing around the room, and abruptly sat back down in the chair. His mind, from trying to process a million thoughts at once, shut down. Despair and empathy washed over him because of his partner's dilemma. He felt lost and isolated from her. His eyes fell flat. He realized that there was little he could do to help this woman. "What are you going to do?" he asked simply. Scully looked at him with fear in her eyes. "I don't know. This is too much!" She shivered, lost in thought again, and clutched the covers of her bed closer to her body. "Please, Scully, what are you thinking? Let me help you." Scully nodded again as two tears slipped out of her eyes. "Uhh," she started shakily. "Right now, all I can think of is Emily. I can't do that again." She struggled to maintain her composure. "I can't watch another child of mine, someone I brought into this world, slip away." Tears coursed down her face and her throat was swollen with sorrow. "I can get a test, a chorionic villus sampling, tomorrow. It checks for abnormalities. I can see what it can tell me, if its normal. It might not be like... what am I saying? Even if it is normal, I don't know if I'd want it." Mulder reached out held her hand, understanding her all too well. It would hurt him like hell to watch her body swell with someone else's, some rapist's, baby. "But, this might be my only chance to feel a life grow inside of me. I thought that I would never be able... and now..." She broke down with sobs. Mulder stroked her back without saying anything. There were no words to be said. "No," Scully said, "There is one more thing. That night. We didn't use protection. I know its highly unlikely, but what if?" Scully looked at Mulder. The fact that there was some small chance that this baby could be Mulder's kept Scully from tumbling over into a dark abyss of her mind. However, she didn't know how Mulder felt about bringing a child into the world. The thought had never entered his head. Mulder flushed ice cold, then warm, then cold, then warm again. His thoughts ranged from utter disbelief and sorrow that he could have done this to his partner, to personal pride -They work!-, to the realization of what it actually meant to be so responsible for another entire person for the rest of their lives, to a warm glow that if he did it with Scully, raised their child in a family, he could definitely take on the permanent role of proud papa. "Scully, if its mine, you would want it, right?" Scully smiled suddenly. "Mulder! Yes. I would keep it even if you didn't want it. If its yours, its a miracle and meant to be. I believe that." "If its mine, nothing could stop me from taking car of you and that child." Mulder again joined Scully on the bed and hugged her long and hard, relishing her small, warm body, alive and responding and enveloped in his arms. He leaned down, slipped his hands up her neck, under her hair. She looked up at him with red-rimmed but clear eyes that communicated pain, regret, fear at what might come, and a hesitant happiness. One more tear fell. Mulder leaned in and kissed Scully lightly on the forehead, then on her mouth. Then he looked back into her eyes trying to express the love and support he would give her through this whole experience. Their wordless communication filled the air with electricity. So much that could not be said with words passed between them that they were almost surprised when Mrs. Scully knocked on the door to tell them that she was back. Scully called her mom over, explained the whole situation. Margaret cried with her daughter as Mulder left the two alone to make tea. Scully then made an appointment with her gynecologist to have the chorionic villus sampling the next day. The results to it could be gotten in 24 hours and more sophisticated DNA test would take a few more days. No one in that apartment slept well that night. Mulder moved a recliner into the bedroom and tried to sleep on that. He didn't want to be far from Scully, but he also felt he had to give her some personal space so she could think clearly. Mulder was also slightly uncomfortable with sleeping in Scully's bed with her mother in the next room. It was the first night Mulder was not raging in his depression. He felt tense about the days and weeks, and possibly years to come and then impact it would have on his life, but he felt refreshingly normal. This was a situation that thousands of couples a day faced with the same fear and trepidation. True, they did not have to worry about alien/human hybrids, but the result was the same. He could not imagine Scully keeping such a child, despite the fact it might be her one and only chance to give birth. He watched her watch Emily die. He knew that a part of Scully died with that little girl and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop her from hurting so much. Scully was her normal trooper self, but something was missing from her aura, the spirit she exuded. She had changed so much. Scully tried to hide the hurt, he knew she felt it would burden him, but the more she tried the more he could see how badly the loss had affected her. He truly did not see it possible for Scully to watch and be powerless to stop another innocent life taken too soon. Mulder tossed and turned with the thoughts of a human perpetrator in the crime against Scully's body. He had never given the abortion issue a lot of thought, he never saw it as his place to tell someone else what to do. He knew the intense jealousy he would feel if Scully kept another man's child. Mulder also was not very aware of how Scully felt about abortion. She was a doctor, but she was also Catholic. He couldn't imagine that Scully would ever like to see laws passed taking control over a woman's body, but he also wondered if her personal choice would be to take the baby to term or not, to feel the life that she could give. However, Mulder mainly thought about what he would do if the baby was his. If it was, it was conceived in love and was right. He knew Scully shared his views on that. Mulder absolutely tingled at the thought of raising a son or daughter, to teach them right and wrong, about all of the wonders in life, how to throw a curve ball. He would learn from his own father's mistakes and be a true father. Along with the hope and aspirations of the future was the heavy doubt and apprehension. He knew he should not get his hopes up. Mulder was very superstitious about wanting something too much. To admit it, to stake so much on a hope would inevitably jinx it in Mulder's mind. He wanted this child like he wanted his sister returned, and look what happened with that. Mulder also knew how small to impossible the chances were that it was his child. However, he was willing to believe in miracles if the reward was so high. He wanted a life with Scully. He wanted a child with her, if possible. He dared to hope. Mulder eventually slept, but dreamed of babies. A couple of feet away, Scully was having her own sleeping problems. Part of it was physical. That off-ness that she had been feeling all day, her first memories since she was taken, had graduated into nausea. She knew the cause. There was something alive in her. It was some kind of parasitic organism using her blood and nutrients from her body to sustain life. It was probably half of her genetic make-up that was growing inside of her. She hoped the other half was Mulder's. She began praying that that was the case. She knew her prayer couldn't change the composition of the embryo inside of her, but if the father was Mulder, her decision would be so much easier. She knew she would keep their child, even if he didn't want to take part in raising it. Sure, he said that he did, and she believed that he was telling the truth, but it really didn't matter what he thought or felt. Scully also knew that they would make wonderful parents. It would take so much getting used to, a lot of effort and practice, but she simply adored Mulder and would completely love any child of his that she could bring into the world. Speaking of adoring Mulder, she wished that he would climb into bed with her. Scully could not get enough of touching him and being close to him. She was addicted to loving and being loved by him. This was not lust -well, most of it.- This was a love that could transcend their aging and constant presence in one another's lives. It pained Scully to think of Mulder's reaction if this was not his child. She would do anything to protect him of that fact. It also pained Scully to consider the alternatives. So far, only one absolute formed in Scully's mind: if it was half-alien or genetically doomed, she would have an abortion. She would NOT watch death take more than one child. Tears threatened to fall again as Emily resurfaced in her memories. Scully thought that it was funny how her happy memories with Emily made her the most upset. Scully remembered the one perfect day she spent with her daughter. She had taught Emily the basics of Ultimate Hopscotch where you could draw any number or kind of squares to hop on. Half way through that day, Scully had to disengage herself from that play so that she could cry in private. It was the knowledge that those happy day were so few that tore her apart on that day; the lightness she felt was ultimately heavy in its brevity. Scully remembered sitting in the bathroom and quietly crying and rocking and wishing for someone to take away the hurt, to soothe her and tell her that it was all right to where she could believe them. But there wasn't then, so she cleaned up and rejoined Emily. Scully was crying again for Emily. All the lost days and events. Life wasn't fair and she would NEVER live through another experience like that. A few hours later, after flushing the reheated tears of sorrow an danger out of her system, Scully made herself consider what she would do if what was inside of her was fully human, but not Mulder's. True, she was Catholic, but that never really factored into real life. Scully knew the Bible and saw abortion as not so much a sin as "not good." She felt that people should have to accept the consequences of their actions if they took the risk and had sex. If there was a normal, healthy baby, what was nine months to make another couple happy? Scully knew that it really was not that simple, but that issue really didn't figure into her present situation too much. Scully only had consensual sex with Mulder, any other baby produced would be a product of rape, medical or otherwise. There, Scully did not see what right another person had, for any length of time, over her body without her permission; a person who nearly destroyed more than just her life but others' as well. How could she let herself go though that kind of ordeal? Then, Scully briefly thought of Mulder's reaction to carrying another man's child to term. He would be jealous, but truly, what did it concern him in any way aside from the emotional and physical pain it caused her. No, Mulder-jealousy would not be a factor in her decision. Despite Scully's nausea and indecision, she eventually grew weary. It had been a long day, and it would be a long couple of days ahead. She needed rest, so she eventually drifted off to an anxiety-filled sleep. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mulder and Scully sat waiting nervously in the doctor's office waiting room. Scully had explained to Mulder exactly what and how the chorionic villus sampling would be done. Margaret Scully had declined to come, so Mulder and Scully sat stiffly in the straight backed chairs. Mulder moved and wrapped his right arm around Scully, hugging her close to his chest and held her hand with his free hand. The receptionist noticed how this visibly calmed the woman. They both looked absolutely wretched, which was odd to her. Most couples who exuded as much love and support as these two were usually delighted to have children. Even as the small redhead relaxed into the tall, dark, and handsome man, the look in her eyes remained haunted and worried. The man looked even more worried, if that was possible. The receptionist, curiosity piqued, flipped to the scheduling book, but all that was listed was "chorionic villus sampling--Emergency." When the doctor was ready, Scully was called back. Mulder followed, wanting to be there for her. Dr. Heartin, a short, ruggedly handsome doctor, directed the two into a small sterile room filled with medical paraphernalia. Keeping the conversation light, Dr. Heartin turned on the ultrasound machine and prepared the hollow needle. Using the US image, he expertly directed the needle to take a small plug of tissue from the end of a chorionic villus, part of the outer membrane that protects the embryo from which the placenta is formed. Dr. Heartin finished the procedure and promised results in 24 hours. Since it was an emergency, he would constantly call lab to makes sure that they stayed on task with the sample. Mulder, who held Scully's hand throughout the procedure and planted small kisses on her temple every-so-often, shook Dr. Heartin's hand and thanked him. Mulder and Scully returned to her apartment and told Mrs. Scully about everything, how it went off without a hitch. It was going to be a long 24 hours. The three just sat around and stared at each other. Margaret, feeling very tired and sad herself, noticed how much of a toll this was taking on the two people she loved very much who sat in front of her. Her mommy instinct kicked into gear and she stood up with a purpose. "Come here you two," she instructed. Mulder and Scully, slightly surprised, obeyed after a small hesitation. Margaret ushered them into Scully's bedroom. "You both need rest and a way to pass the day," explained Mrs. Scully was she turned down the covers of the bed. Mulder and Scully slipped off their shoes, too tired to argue, and climbed into the bed, sitting up, propped on pillows. Margaret then wheeled in the TV and VCR, plugged it in and put in a tape. The movie that came on was "The Neverending Story," an old favorite of Dana's. Margaret knew that Mulder would like it, too, if he hadn't seen it already. The couple settled in and Margaret left the room to find things to keep herself busy while she waited for the results, herself. Scully snuggled into Mulder's arms and lazily watched the movie. "I love you, you know," she said. "I know, I always did. I love you, too." Mulder began lightly tracing circles on Scully's back, through her silk blouse. He could not get enough of touching her, of experiencing her warmth. Scully pulled Mulder tightly to herself. She clutched at him and clung to him ferociously. "Its OK, Scully. I'm here. I won't ever leave," whispered Mulder. "Thank you. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you're here." She eventually relaxed a little and her body began responding to Mulder's caresses. She began to kiss and nuzzle his neck, underneath the corner of his jaw. Mulder smiled and bowed his head and claimed Scully's mouth with his own. Slowly, their clothes began to disappear. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours later, Mulder and Scully shuffled into the now-immaculate kitchen for the dinner being prepared on the stove. Mrs. Scully had scoured the entire apartment from top to bottom and made her famous fetuccini alfredo with hot rolls and salad to keep busy. "Mmm, smells wonderful, mom. Thank you so much," Scully said as she began preparing her plate. "Oh, honey, its no bother. I'm just so delighted to have you back. It gets harder every time you go," Margaret stopped, wanted to keep the mood a little more cheerful. She scanned her brain for an uplifting topic not filled with the angst that saturated the apartment. Even the way in which Dana and Mulder were together held no carefree happiness that she remembered with her husband. But she was not her daughter and the situations were so different. "Did you two enjoy the movie?" asked Margaret. A glance was exchanged between the partners. "It was excellent, it was the best," said Scully with eyes still locked on Mulder. Oblivious, Margaret asked Mulder, "Had you seen it before?" Mulder tore his eyes from Scully's and looked at Margaret and said, "Once or twice." He grinned. That night, Mulder and Scully slept in the same bed. Their sleep was troubled, but they sough solace in one another and found it. They could not get close enough and reached for each other even while sleeping. Both wondered how they had survived and stayed sane so long while being apart. Nothing in the world made so much sense as them being together. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next day, the phone rang precisely when promised. Scully talked to Dr. Heartin, asked for further testing, then turned around. "Its normal," she said. "I asked about further testing and they said they would get right on it. But, no genetic defects what-so-ever; no unidentifiable genes, nothing at all like Emily's condition." Scully smiled at that and repeated, "Its normal." Mulder felt relief surge through him at that announcement. No more Emily's, thank God. As Scully turned around again to talk to Dr. Heartin some more about what she needed to do, Mulder began to get worried all over again. Two options: 1) The baby was his, 2) it wasn't. Odds were very heavily against him. He again wanted to believe in miracles, Lord knows he was owed a few. However, he knew that these next couple of days would be hell while they waited for the genetic testing results. Scully finished her conversation with Dr. Heartin and agreed to come in and get information on the right vitamins with folic acid and iron so that the baby would grow normally. That night, Margaret Scully went home, assured that Mulder and Scully could handle anything that life threw at them. She would always be there for her daughter and a man she considered a son-in-law, but she recognized when they needed space to sort things out. That night, Mulder and Scully lay in bed on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Both were too giddy with the news to do much sleeping. Scully dozed, but then woke with a start. "Feel OK?" asked Mulder. "Yeah, I'm fine," said Scully. Actually, she was still nauseous, but it was a feeling that she would have to live with for a while. Scully had made a decision. "Mulder, I'm giving birth to this baby. I've thought it through. If its not ours, I'll give it up for adoption. But if it is mine, I have to keep it, even if it isn't yours as well. Mulder, I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't take advantage to have this experience that I will probably never have the chance to go through again. I also want a child. I learned that from Emily." "Its your choice, Scully," said Mulder, turning onto his side, facing away from her. He wasn't disappointed in her decision, but he did not want to face these facts. The truth was that he wanted her to have an abortion if this was another man's child. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about taking care of and raising a child he had no relation to. But, as he lay thinking, he realized that people did that every day, raised children not their own. Who was he to snub a child who came into the world under no fault of its own. Again, if he did it with Scully, he felt he could do anything. "You're not mad?" Scully questioned. "Are you? You ARE!" "Scully, it doesn't matter what I think." "Yes it does, Mulder! There are another seven and a half months of this to go not counting the rest of our lives. I would really like your support with this. I would also understand if you wanted to leave me. I hope you wouldn't, but I would understand." "Scully, no. I will never leave you. I just need a little time to get used to the idea." "Believe it or not, Mulder, I do understand where you're coming from, not completely understand, but I have an idea. I know how your mind works. But you have to understand something about me. I, probably along with a lot of other women, feel the need to go through with this, to feel a life growing where it used to be empty. I don't want any reminders of what happened. But I need to have it, to raise it, if it is mine. It is my responsibility and I want to more than anything else right now. I'd like you to understand this." Mulder sighed and flipped over to face her. He snaked his arm up and ran his fingers through her hair. They looked at each other with the same intensity as always. "I don't understand, I admit, but I will try, and I will support you with any decision that you make. I trust you to do the right thing for you, for me, and for the baby." Scully smiled. "Thanks Mulder. I know this will be a hard couple of days, but we'll survive." They were still smiling as they drifted off to sleep. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twelve Days Later: The phone in the kitchen rang loudly. Mulder, who was helping with the dishes, answered, "Scully residence." "Hello, this is Dr. Heartin. May I speak with Dana Scully, please? I have some test results." Mulder handed the trembling phone over to Scully. He mouthed "Dr. Heartin" to her and sank into a chair and stared at his hands. What was being said on the phone had the potential to change his entire life, his direction, his purpose. He hoped it would. "OK, Dr. Heartin. Thank you very much." Scully placed the phone carefully in its cradle. She was avoiding eye contact. "Scully, what did he say!?!?" asked Mulder, practically yelling. Scully turned her sky blue eyes up to his. They were clear and twinkling. She pinned him with her look and drew him in. Slowly a smile spread across Scully's face as she lightly danced her way over to Mulder's awaiting arms. THE END :) End Note: I know, happy endings are sappy, but I figured I hurt them enough. Why not let them live happily ever after? By the way for those who want to know, they do get married, have a baby girl and name her Jessica. She has dad's brown hair and mom's blue eyes and is an absolute joy. Feedback? I'd love it at Cenhaf13@aol.com. Thanks for reading! :)