From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 2 Jun 2001 19:59:50 -0000 Subject: Which is what? by cerulean_blue Source: direct Reply To: blue_cerulean@hotmail.com Title: Which is what? Author: Cerulean_blue E-mail: blue_cerulean@hotmail.com Rating: gentle Spoilers: Existence post-ep; vague references to other moments Disclaimer: These characters and all things X- Files are the property of CC and 1013. Story created out of respect for that amazing gift. Story: a sleepless night for our hero as he ponders the words spoken the night before. ****** Which is what? He had not had a wink of sleep all night. This was not the first night that he had slept in her bed, and it was also not the only sleepless night that he had spent with her. He had lain there all night listening to the rise and fall in her breathing on one side of him, and to the staccato breath sounds from the tiny bassinette to the other side of him. He had never had a night that had seemed more perfect. Which is what? What had kept him awake all night was the most powerful feeling that everything in his life had led him to this one moment, and this one place. Those are words he had spoken before, and indeed a conversation he had had with her some nine months previous. And yet, he had never really felt it. Felt in his body, that everything about the journey he had been on had led him to this moment, place and finally, to her. Which is what? Her words from last night had echoed in his mind when they had first lain down together. As they whispered to each other in the moments before sleep as they had on so many nights before, he could feel her question sitting on the edge of his thoughts. The truth we both know, he had dared to say. And yet, she had asked him, which is what? She had awoken several times throughout the night, each time William stirred. She must have assumed that Williams cries for nourishment had awoken him as well. The sat together as she nursed their baby. He sat behind her, one leg on each side of her, positioning himself so that she could most comfortably lean her head against his chest. They sat silently in awe of the small child that had so unexpectedly entered their lives, and whose presence was so overwhelmingly beautiful for both of them. Each time she lay back down to sleep, he curled in behind her, holding her into the curve of his body, her head against the crook of his neck. Each time she whispered words of gentleness, and slowly drifted back to sleep. Each time he lay and thought about every moment that had brought them here. He thought of ice fields, corridors, hospital rooms, even graveyards and morgues. He thought of ships and offices, hikes and car-rides, forests and caves, motel rooms and coffee shops. He thought of the couch in his apartment. The doorway to his apartment. The hallway outside his apartment. He thought of all the conversations they had had over the years about who they were to each other. He thought of the spoken and the unspoken. He felt gripped by the idea that no-one he had every known completed him in the way that she did, and he knew he could not imagine another day in his life that did not end in this way. Whispers. His body curved around hers. The sound of breathing on either side of him. And yet, she had said, which is what? Had the unspoken remained unspoken for them for so long that they were no longer able to communicate? Had these last few months of separation and need for clarity on his part changed the most fundamental trust between them? Had his relentless quest become only his relentless quest? Did she really not know what he meant? The path of the last eight years had taken an infinite number of turns. Through it all he had remained committed to a truth that has been elusive from the beginning. He had been convinced that the goal had always been clear to him, the truth about his sister. But, as he lay there in the darkness, he finally knew that it had not been about that pursuit at all. It had not just been about wanting to believe. It has been about becoming able to believe. That openness had led him to this moment, to her and to their son. He had never felt more sure about anything in his life. The myriad images that flashed through his brain of the last eight years, all that they had seen, all that they had done, all brought them to this place. Which is what? William again began to make small noises, and this time only he rose. Taking the small bundle gently from the bassinette he wandered out into the living room. Rocking him gently, trying to make sure the small noises did not awake Williams mother this time. He felt overwhelmed. The tiny face, fingers, nose. The hugeness of the love he felt. Mulder... The sound of her voice breaking the stillness caught him by surprise. She moved towards where he had settled on the couch. He was still holding William and she moved into him, pulling her feet up under her, moving her hand along the back of his neck, staring at their most incredible and beautiful child. Last night, she said gently, and in the hushed whisper that they saved for those final moments before sleep, was the most perfect moment of my entire life. Scully... No, let me finish, Mulder. Through all that has happened in the last few days, weeks, months even, I have never allowed myself to think about this moment. Sure, I thought about late night feedings, diapers and bassinettes. But not about if you would be here, if we would be here. I could not allow myself that much hope. There are so many things that we have never said to each other. It is so crazy, given that I have never experienced such an incredible feeling of trust with any other person in my life. And yet, so many unspoken things. What happened for me, last night though, was that I let go of my fear and allowed myself to believe, really believe, that everything about the last eight years has been about leading us here. To him. She took her other hand and gently moved the blanket back from Williams small, sleeping, contented face. The journey we have been on, Mulder. All that we have seen and done. It has been about finding our way to each other. In that moment, all the fears that he had been holding inside of him that sleepless night left his body. He turned towards her, the tears running down his face, and lightly kissed her forehead. I know, he whispered, we are finally home. The end. (and the beginning).