Chapter Text
It wasn't the first pregnancy test she took – but it was the first one ever that showed positive.
Dana Scully stared at the little plastic thing in her hands, deciding after minutes that it must be false. It couldn't be. It was impossible, she was too old and – well – too barren.
She had taken the test because she had been feeling sick a lot in the morning. First she had thought of a food poisoning and blamed it on that horrible experience in the robot-run Japanese restaurant, ignoring the fact that she hadn't eaten a lot there. But she had been sick the next day as well and also the day after and when she suddenly had the worst craving for pickles, she had decided to just take a damn test. She was right before her menopause but a positive pregnancy test had not been part of those surprises that her doctor had told her would come for her. It must be wrong, she thought, hormones and all … she knew her ovulation cycle was going crazy right now, hormones would sink and increase with perimenopause, maybe they'd turned the test positive and in reality she wasn't pregnant. She had had mood swings and nightly heat flushes and her period was horribly irregular. She knew it was time for her changes. She had expected some things. But she had not ever expected this.
Thus she called her doctor and asked for an appointment as soon as possible.
She wrapped the test in tissues and took it with her to work, she didn't want to dispose of it in her apartment, just in case Mulder came over and found it. He couldn't know of this. Not yet. Now was the worst time for news like these, now that they were looking for William and on a good way to find him. Now that there was an alien virus to launch, which would probably kill most of the people, Mulder included.
At work, Scully was miles away with her thoughts and of course her partner noticed.
“Are you thinking about William?” he asked gently and Scully nodded. She did, she always did. Only this time she also thought about another child and how she had told Mulder that it was too late for her only about four months ago. “We'll find him,” Mulder interrupted her train of thoughts and got up from his chair to hug his partner. “I promise that we'll find our son, Scully.”
Scully closed her eyes, hoping he was right.
A week later and the pants were too tight already. Scully could close them but she would feel uncomfortable. She also felt uncomfortable in a skirt. Quickly she swapped her usual outfit with sweatpants and a hoodie and hoped that no one would comment on her change of style. She had lost a lot of weight since her last pregnancy and she didn't think she would ever need maternity clothes again. This was why she had nothing else that fit her.
Mulder noticed, of course. He knew her the best and he knew that something was up if she dressed casually. “Are you sick?” he asked, the second she entered their office.
“Just feeling a little bloated,” Scully answered. It wasn't a lie, she did. “I'll have to leave you alone for a bit at eleven. Got a doctor's appointment.”
Mulder immediately eyed her. “Seriously, are you okay, Scully?”
“I am, don't worry.”
He didn't believe her. She knew he didn't. Her voice had betrayed her and he immediately knew. He just knew her too well. She sighed.
“I'm fine, really. Just not feeling myself lately.”
“Have you analysed yourself? Like you analysed me?”
“I have. It's just … my body, Mulder. I'm getting old.”
“Aw, come here,” Mulder said and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Old or not, you're as beautiful as ever. Maybe even more so. And these comfy clothes look so much like home-Scully, I'm getting flashbacks of you and me getting … comfortable.”
He tried to kiss her but Scully pushed him back. “Not here, we're at work.”
“Hasn't bothered you before.”
She chuckled lightly. True – how many times have they had a very quick quickie on the desk to relieve some tension? How many times has she knelt under the desk for him or the other way round? They had been so professional in the beginning but that had changed, the older they had been. They had cared less and also embraced the fact that they were two people with a deep, emotional connection and that occasionally they just needed each other on a sexual basis, no matter where they were. And they've discovered that they found it rather exciting to do it at work, as the danger of getting caught was just an extra spice in their already spicy relationship. Scully could have an orgasm very fast if she was aroused enough – they hadn't exactly stopped time but they were guessing that it was somewhere between thirty and sixty seconds. And at home it wasn't less exciting, just at home it was slow, tender, they took their time and often the whole night. At work or out in the field, in motels, they fucked. At home they made love.
It hadn't changed, even when their relationship had been tough. Their feelings for each other hadn't vanished, not even after years of being separated. Not even after the first year of not being in contact at all.
She looked into his eyes and saw the need in them. She smiled at him apologetically. “Not today, Mulder,” she said and turned away from him.
So much had changed during the last years, first for the worse, then for the better. But no matter what else will happen in the future, Scully would never forget February 23rd 2015, about one and a half years ago.
He had not called her, not texted her, nothing. Even though they had been separated for some time, they had still occasionally talked. But then he had not called her for her birthday and this had felt like a sword in her heart. She had been sure that it was now over between them, completely over. They were strangers now, after over twenty years. The next day she had called her mother, she had been so upset that she had just cried. Margaret Scully had managed to calm her down, telling her that Mulder would never not congratulate her on purpose.
“He loved you so much, Dana,” she had said, “I don't think he could ever ignore your birthday. I'm sure he just hasn't checked the date, that happens. Or maybe he is somewhere without a phone connection. You know him, he's probably busy chasing something extraterrestrial.”
But that hadn't been it.
She knew he was unemployed and still unsure concerning his faith. He's had ups and downs during these last years and one day she had realised that he could not exit his down-phase anymore. This had been the time she had diagnosed his depression. And this had sadly led to a very long and upsetting talk, which had ended in Scully packing her things and moving to her mother's place in the fall of 2013. It had been the hardest decision of her life.
After the talk with her mother the day after her birthday she had been worried about him and tried to reach him. But he had not answered for days.
After Scully had tried again and again one day, he had finally picked up. “Yes?” he had greeted her weakly.
“Mulder!” Scully had breathed. “Mulder, how are you? I haven't heard of you, I was so worried.”
“I feel horrendous, Scully,” Mulder had said and Scully had been shocked about how his voice sounded, so rough and hoarse. “I can't go on anymore. It's getting worse with every day. I didn't want to call you but I couldn't do this to you. I couldn't go without saying goodbye to you.”
She had immediately rushed to see him. Yes, she had ended their relationship for these and many other reasons, but this was serious. He needed help.
She had been shocked upon entering his house. It looked as if he hadn't cleaned for months. And he really looked horrible. She hadn't cared about his looks nor smell and crawled right into bed with him.
“Mulder, why do you punish yourself?” she had whispered.
“Because I can't stop hating myself.”
“Are you still taking your medication?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don't want to. I don't want to rely on pills to make me happy.”
“Mulder, look at yourself. That's not you. And if the pills help you being yourself, why don't you take them?”
He had closed his eyes. “I can't go on like this. I just called you to tell you that I have always loved you.”
“And I have always loved you. I always will.” Scully had bent down to kiss his temple. “Forever, Mulder. And I mean it. It's not your time, yet. Believe me.”
“I want to. Really.”
“I'm gonna wash you and then I'll clean the house,” she had suggested.
“I can't get up.”
“Mulder, what would you do for me?” She knew what his answer to this was. It had always been the same and it had always been the same for her.
“Everything, Scully.”
“Then get up, please. Do it for me.”
Scully had helped him up. She had led him to the bathroom. She had undressed him and helped him step into the shower. She had washed him while trying not to cry. How could she have ignored that he needed help that badly? Why had she not just checked on him after work? She knew about his illness, how could she have ignored it, thinking that he would be fine? He wasn't fine. He was feeling worse than ever.
After the shower he had sat in the bathroom with his robe on while Scully had washed the bedsheets, vacuumed the room and opened the windows in the whole house. When she was done, she had led Mulder to the couch and placed the pills she had found in the bin in front of him without a word. Then she had ordered food and cuddled up next to him. After an hour of not saying a word and just being held by Scully, he had taken the pills. And then he had cried.
Scully had let him cry and hugged him. And when the food had arrived, she had fed him. She had called in sick and stayed with him for days, until he had felt better. And then she had called a friend of hers, a therapist called Louise, who had agreed to visit his house, as Mulder had not seemed ready to go out. After Louise had told Scully that she did not think that he was in any danger, Scully had decided to go back home. Mulder hadn't been happy about that and asked her if they could stay friends.
“We are friends,” Scully had said and taken his hand. “We've established that before. Nothing in this world can wreck our friendship. I love you and I always will, but you need to let me in. If you feel alone, Mulder, call me and I'll come over. All right?”
Mulder had nodded and they had hugged for a long time. Scully still wasn't sure but she could've sworn she had heard a soft “I'm still in love with you” sighed into her ear. Maybe she had just chosen to ignore it.
But fact was that Mulder had been better since then. They had talked on the phone every week. They had met at least once a month. He was not great but he was getting better. And then they had been forced to work together again, in a way. And everything that happened had happened. Scully had crawled into his bed at night, his couch in the motel room to be exact, and they had talked. And talked. And talked until they hadn't talked anymore.
She had almost forgotten how intense sleeping with him was. He just knew everything about her, every inch of her body, everything she liked and disliked. All the secret spots on her body which she loved being touched and kissed. He knew her body but he also knew her thoughts. He just looked at her and knew what she thought. They had a connection, they had always known that. But in bed this connection came in handy. No talking was needed. Just looks and it was as if they were reading each other's minds. It was simply intense. It had always been.
And just like that they had been back to their normal selves, teasing, flirting, kissing, having sex.
But they hadn't been together, not officially, until a few weeks before now. Scully must've been already pregnant. She couldn't close her pants and skirts anymore, she had a belly. It was small but it was there. She must've been pregnant for at least three months. She must've been pregnant, when she had the sushi, oh God! But that was the first day she had felt sick in the morning, why else had she blamed it on the sushi? Now she was glad that she hadn't had a chance to finish the food. Well, if she really was pregnant. There was still the chance that she wasn't.
Scully took a deep breath. No, it was impossible. She wasn't pregnant, she couldn't be. She was sure that everything was just happening because of her upcoming menopause: the mood swings, the gained weight, the cravings and the morning sickness. Oh, and the wrong test, obviously.
But her doctor confirmed the result of her pregnancy test.
“You're in your eleventh week, Miss Scully,” the young Dr. Hill said. “May I congratulate you?”
“Yes, of course,” Scully answered slowly. “But – how is this possible?”
“Well, it isn't unusual for women to get pregnant late. Shortly before women enter their menopause, they experience an increase of fertility due to biological reasons.”
“I know, I'm a medical doctor myself,” Scully said. “But isn't it very unusual for women my age to get pregnant?”
“Yes, that's rare. But also, women your age usually know that it's still possible and use protection to avoid unwanted pregnancy.”
“Oh, yes, we've never used protection,” Scully explained. “It wasn't necessary. I am – was – unable to conceive. According to many doctors.”
“Oh,” Dr. Hill said and checked her notes again. “I can't explain this to you, then. Fact is, you are pregnant.”
Scully thought hard about what she had done three months ago. Had she been abducted again? No, nothing had happened besides that she and Mulder had exploited their regained libido.
“Are you going to keep it?” Dr. Hill asked and Scully looked at her, shocked.
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Many women your age choose abortion. A pregnancy is mostly not wanted for women over forty and you are in your mid-fifties. I just supposed … I'm very sorry for asking.”
“No, it's fine. It's just … my partner and I have always wanted a child and we've never succeeded. Well, we succeeded once but the child is not with us anymore.” Not entirely true but Dr. Hill had no reason to know the whole story.
“I'm very sorry to hear that.” Dr. Hill looked at her with sympathy. “But if you're going to keep the baby, we will need to see you a lot more than younger mothers. We'll need to do monthly check ups and this won't be cheap. Also be aware that the birth won't be easy. We mostly advise older women to get a c-section, as a natural birth could get too dangerous for them.”
“I know, I know,” Scully said softly. “I'll talk to my partner about this.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” Dr. Hill said but avoided her eyes.
“You don't approve,” Scully stated.
“I do approve. But you're so far the oldest mother I've had the pleasure to talk to and it made me think. You won't have so much time with your child, not as much time as children have with mothers who give birth to them at an earlier age. Also it will be very, very dangerous. I need to talk to you about all the risks for you and your baby during this pregnancy. Premature birth is just one of the things that can happen, miscarriage or stillbirth are the worse ones. The possibility of the baby having Down syndrome is given to mothers over thirty-five and you are fifty-four.”
“I know my age, thank you very much.”
“Miss Scully, I just want you to understand the risks.”
“I do, I do. And I would love a child with Down syndrome just as much as I would love a healthy child.”
“That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying you must be aware of what could happen. The child could not be born at all. The child could be born dead.”
“I know,” Scully repeated, “but this is a miracle, isn't it? I was barren for so long and now I'm old … it must be what God wanted.” She touched her necklace, deep in thoughts.
“You're a woman of faith, Miss Scully?”
“Faith and science,” Scully said and looked at her doctor. She was nice, still young and she definitely had no idea what Scully had been through. She had alien DNA, she'd been abducted by men and used as an experiment, she had given away her baby and she had been close to death countless times – Scully was strong and she knew that she would make it. “I will give birth to this baby, you'll see.”