Title: More Than The Clouds
Summary: Scully gives birth to the miracle she's prayed for!
I pause for a moment to take in my surroundings. He shouldn't have let me go, rather, I shouldn't have let him. I'll have this baby, sure, but it won't feel right... not without Mulder by my side. And, right now, I'm so afraid.
Monica has been so helpful. She's taken me to this foreign place where the air is damp and the stench of mildew is present in the air. But, it's fine... there's a bed and there's a small supply of water. That's all I really need. I'll just stick to pretending that I'm in the days of the cavemen, when the women gave birth in the forest or on a cold bed of stones.
The first contraction took place about ten minutes ago when I was helping Monica set up the bed. It was less painful than I'd expected... but then again I had never expected to have this miracle growing inside me. I didn't expect to be delivering it into the world without my best friend with me, either. Why did I let him go? Why did I drop his hand without the slightest hesitation? Was it because I've grown to trust him so very much? Or was it because I simply wasn't thinking? In any case, I'd give anything for him to be here now. Anything!
It's been an hour now, since we first arrived at this cold, dark place. The only comfort is being provided by these warm candles that Monica thought to bring along. Another contraction comes... and goes. I bear it silently, calmly, trying to picture the remarkable outcome of this ordeal. And in picturing this child's red, screaming face I can only think of one person... Mulder. I don't think I've ever thought about him for this long or this hard. Is this what is making my stomach turn or my heat race? Can this be the reason for my fear? Is it simply because he isn't here?
Monica says I should lay down now. The contractions are coming more frequently. Perhaps, this is why I'm afraid... afraid to become a mother. What will I tell this baby when she asks about her birth, as I asked my mother countless times? What shall I tell her of her father? Was it truly the divine hand that created this being inside of me... my prayer finally answered? Or is the progenitor of this child the man I hoped it would be all along... that man who cannot be here now, to witness his own infant take it's first breath? How will I ever know?
My water has broken. It should be only hours now. Monica sits with me, holding my hand... providing what little comfort she is able to with her gentle touch. Of all things, why forget pain killers? I don't blame her... I don't blame anyone but myself. And in blaming myself for everything that has gone wrong, I am also able to "blame" myself for this miracle about to take place. My gaze doesn't leave the door. I'm still hoping for him to walk in at the last moment and witness the marvel, first hand. I know he wishes he could be here. I could see that in his deep, hazel eyes when he let me go... As if he was saying, "I'll try with all my heart to be there."
"PUSH!" she yells, as if she is actually the one delivering the baby. I think she's trying to "feel my pain", if you will. Perhaps she can imagine the physical aspect of it, but not the loss I'm feeling inside, the need for him, for his presence. I push, as directed, even though I am much more qualified to be giving these directions. Does she know what she's doing at all, aside from the dramatized TV births she's seen? I trust her, though. She's taken me this far. One of the last things Mulder said to me was, "You are going to have this baby." I believe him.
I can hear him gasp for breath. My own child. My own very human child, crying out to me. I can't help but begin crying, too. As Monica hand's him over to me I feel like all the prayers I've ever said, anything I've ever hoped for has come true in this baby's eyes. I thank God, almost silently and kiss this child, William, on the forehead. He looks like his mom.
I can hear Mulder's footsteps quickly approaching out in the hall. His smiling face soon greets my tired one in the doorway. He comes to sit by me on the bed. I feel safe now. He tells me that Billy Miles is gone. He won't hurt me, now. Mulder pulls a white sheet of paper from his coat pocket.
"I found this at your apartment." He says softly as he hands me the folded sheet. I already know what it is. It's a poem I wrote, a prayer for this little miracle...
--- I hoped and prayed and dreamed aloud,,, thinking all who could hear me were the clouds---
I read the poem to myself, silently. Mulder reaches out to my son and touches his hand, gently. There is an unspoken love...a bond only a father and son can have.
Now I know... God must have heard me. It was more than the clouds.
The season finale airs tonight. I've read spoilers for the entire episode and I know, what happens at the end is more than we shipper's could have hoped for. But, I needed to write a final fic for this season- which, IMHO, has been one of the best yet. Thanx to CC for eight great years!
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