Title: From Out of Nowhere
Author: Becka F.
Classification: V
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Existence
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, and I'm sure if CC lent them to me, he would never get them back.

Summary: Sometimes it just comes from out of nowhere.

Today didn't start out like any other day.

I guess the first sign should have been the fact that Scully wasn't awake before me.

I silently rejoiced at that discovery, threw off the covers, and practically jumped out of bed.

She doesn't know it, but I get so damn jealous when she gets to see him before I do.

I usually saunter out of bed an hour or two later and find her in his nursery, rocking him back and forth in the enormous wooden rocking chair Margaret gave us for his room.

Everything was quiet. A little too quiet. William is usually awake at this point, cooing or giggling or making whatever the hell sounds he wants to let his parents know that he's awake and wants some damn attention.

Oh, is he ever my boy.

I groggily made my way into his nursery and to my surprise, I found him awake.

I stood in the doorway, watching him watching me. The kid has an eye like a hawk. It's remarkable. He'll see you coming from a mile away, and when he finally gets to see you up close, he'll study you for hours.

And that's just what he did with me. Well, it almost seemed like hours.

It was like he had never seen me before. It was as though he was looking at me for the first time.

I remember what that was like.

I remember looking at him for the first time. I remember the look in his eyes when he looked at me for the first time, nestled safely in Scully's arms.

And then nestled safely in mine.

It was incredible. And that look still hasn't changed, almost eleven months later.

I decided I would slowly approach his crib to see if I could get a response. Or a reaction. Or something.


But I got nothing.

Just watching. Peering. Studying.

I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to know why he was looking at me like that. Maybe it was the psychologist in me. I couldn't for the life of me understand it.

Was he angry?

Was he sick?

He didn't utter a sound. He just gazed up at me through the wooden bars of his crib. He didn't smile, and he didn't frown. He just stared.

He watched me closely as I continued to approach him. I stopped and hovered above him. He blinked a couple of times, but didn't take his eyes off of me.

I reached one hand down and stroked his forehead, brushing pieces of his wispy ginger hair away from his face.

"Hi," I whispered, feeling my heart beat faster. I couldn't help but smile down at him. God, he was so perfect.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I got my reaction.


I snatched my hand out of the crib as though I were sticking it into a tank full of piranhas.

What did he say?


He suddenly sprung to life and giggled heartily, saying it again.


And again.


Oh my God.

I staggered backwards, wanting to grab onto something for support. I wanted to do a million things at once; call Scully, call her mother, scream and shout at the top of my lungs out the window.

But all I could do was stare.

And that's what I've been doing for the past two hours. I glance out the window at the sun, nearly at its peak in the sky, and think back to early this morning when my son said his first word.


I smile down at him in my arms, watching sleep slowly conquer him, and smile up at Scully, who's hovering over my shoulder, undoubtedly jealous that I'm the one sitting in the rocker with our baby this morning.

I smile for absolutely no reason at all, and for a thousand different reasons at the same time.

And before he finally drifts off to sleep, he says it again.


Wow, I've been in such a slump lately. I never realized how much good watching re-runs of Existence would do to me!

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