Title: Not with a Bang
Author: Witch Baby
Rating: PG
Category: MSR, ScullyAngst
Spoilers: Requiem
Archive: Yes please. Just let me know
Disclaimer: Not mine. No infringement intended. Author's note: Hi. Those of you at atxc have already seen this, but I'm reposting it because it never made it to Ephemeral. I hope it works this time :)

Summary: Mulder’s been gone a while. Now he’s back.


“This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.”

-- T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

The call came at a quarter ‘til four … AM, just after she had fallen asleep, and even though she answered it on the first ring the baby woke up … again.

“Hello,” she growled angrily as she moved to lift her wailing child from his crib.

“Is this Dana Scully?” a brusque asked from the other end of the line.

“Yes,” she answered over the baby’s diminishing cries.

“This is Dr. Anita Cook from Georgetown Memorial Hospital.”

Scully remembered the woman with distaste. Dr. Cook was an attractive woman in her early thirties, with long dark hair and longer legs. She had attended to Mulder twice when he was admitted to the emergency room and had flirted with him shamelessly. She had even asked for his phone number, but Mulder had politely declined thank God.

“Dr. Scully,” Dr. Cook impatiently pulled Scully from her reverie. “I have your partner here in the emergency room.”

Scully’s mouth went dry and her knees went out on her, causing her to sit down roughly on the bed, nearly dropping the phone and her child in the process. “I’ll be right there,” she croaked, already preparing to leave.


“Where is he?” she questioned frantically. It had taken her exactly twenty-nine minutes to hastily throw on some clothes, put the baby in his carrier, and drive like a maniac to the hospital, all with one goal in mind – Get to Mulder.

“Ma’am … Ma’am,” a nurse beckoned, getting her attention. “May I help you?”

“Yes,” Scully breathed. “There’s a man here. Fox Mulder. I need to s...” She saw Dr. Cook coming around the corner and ran to her, mid-sentence.

“Where is he?” she shouted.

“He’s right this way,” Dr. Cook answered. “An orderly found him passed out in the hall wearing only a hospital gown. He had no identification, but I recognized him from pervious visits, so I looked up his file and saw that you were listed as his next of kin, and I called you. We have no record of him being admitted. At least not within the last year.”

“Is he okay? He’s been missing for the last nine months.”

Anita looked down at the baby Dr. Scully was holding. “The cursory examination I performed shows him to be fine. However, we do need to run some more tests to be certain. He’s conscious, but disoriented …” “But he appears to be fine?”

They stopped in front of an exam room. “I could find nothing physically wrong with him, but …”

“Is he in there?” Scully looked at the door.

“Yes, but before …”

“We’ll talk after I’ve seen him,” Scully insisted, her voice breaking a bit.
“I just … I just need to see him.”

Anita nodded, and Scully walked through the door.


He was sleeping when she entered. She set the baby, safe in his carrier, on the bedside chair, and turned to him. For a moment she just looked at him, studying his face. He was a little thinner than when she had last seen him, but it was undeniably him – the same small dimple on his chin and mole on his cheek, the pouty lower lip and soft brown hair – hair that had grown unkempt in their time apart. Her hand moved of its own accordance and brushed an unruly lock from his eyes, causing him to wake.

“Mulder,” she crooned, looking into his hazel-green eyes. “Mulder, it’s really you.”

He said nothing, but stared back at her.

“Oh God, Mulder,” her hands explored his body – his face, his arms, his chest – coming to rest on his cheek, “you were gone for so long. I missed you so much. I looked for you.” Her voice broke. “I never stopped looking. I …” She dropped her head to his chest, overcome with emotion. His hand stroked her hair tentatively.

A small noise behind her caused her to sit up. A smile lit her face as she locked eyes with her partner once more.

“Mulder,” she said, turning to lift the baby from his carrier, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She presented the child to him. “Mulder,” she spoke in a voice thick with tears, “I’d like you to meet your son, William Samuel Mulder.”

He gazed at the child, saying nothing, so she pressed on.

“He was born last month. I … I named him William because it was my father’s name and your father’s name and your middle name – I knew you’d kill me if I named him Fox. His middle name, Samuel, is for Samantha. I thought you’d like that.”

He still said nothing; so she rambled on to fill the silence.

“I know this must be a shock to you. It was a shock to me. But he’s ours, Mulder. I had every test run – DNA – the works, as soon as I found out. I found out right after you’d been taken. That’s why I hadn’t been feeling well – I was pregnant. I wanted to tell you so badly, Mulder, but you were gone, and I … But you’re here now and that’s what counts and everything’s going to be okay now because …” she trailed off, out of breath.

“Mulder, please.” She searched his impassive face. “I know this is a lot to take in right now, but please just say something.”

He looked intently into her eyes and spoke. “Who are you?”

The End


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