Author's Note: Same Universe as my other fic "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus". Chronological-wise, this happens before that fic.
BTW, I also took the liberty of stipulating William's age somewhere around four months... I know, the last time we saw him he was a few days old (48 hours after Existence), but Scully got pregnant sometime before Requiem and gave birth a couple days before Nothing Important Happened Today. If she were pregnant from May-ish 2000 to November 2001, it would be an X-File, so I guessed his age to be around 4 months right now... Yes, I'm also confused.

Also, this is my first angst fic in a long time, so please let me know what you think.

My entire body hurts. I swear, head to toes, it does.

I've been driving for over eight hours, having to stop three times to feed William. The tension in my body is so much that even Will is feeling it. He didn't want my milk, so I had to give him cold bottles the entire way.

I can't stop shaking.

Basically, the only concrete thing I know is that I've been driving north the entire time. I couldn't sketch a map; too risky. It's evidence, no matter how thin. I shouldn't be doing this to start with, so I'm going to take as many precautions as possible.

Why do I need to do it? I have no fucking idea and that's probably why I'm here right now, to find out why. I have been lying to myself for the past months; I've always believed Christmas was the one time of the year we shouldn't lie to ourselves. So, now I'm driving on endless roads, chasing what I'm supposed to be apart from.

The snow has been falling for the last hundred miles and I have to slow down. I just want to push the pedal and fly down this road; the only thing that keeps me from doing this is William on his baby-seat behind me.

I quickly check on him for the third time in the last minute through the rearview mirror and his sleeping face and light snoring greets me. He has slept the entire way, waking only to be fed.

"We're almost there. Almost there." I whisper to myself.

I haven't seen one single car for the past two hours. The roads are getting smaller and more deserted, to the point that I haven't seen a gas station for the past forty-five minutes. It's a good sign, I think; it means we're on the right path.

The snow is intensifying and with it, the cold. I cringe on the inside; I still have lots of gas, but I don't want to risk spending it all on the heater. Will has several blankets around him, so he is warm. I'm not feeling much of anything right now, except for fear and anxiety, and I'm pretty sure that my shaking has nothing to do with the cold.

Two more hours.

Two hours turned into three, as the snow got so strong I had to drive at 25 mph.

Right now, it doesn't matter. Not when I'm pulling in the driveway of a huge house on a cliff. He wasn't lying; it's truly huge.

The rooftop is all white, as is the ground, but I can see the old painting of the house. It's charcoal and its painting is long overdue, but it is a beautiful house. It looks almost abandoned and I briefly entertain the thought of this not being the right house.

I get out of the car and I go to the backseat door to get William. He wakes up and smiles at me. He kicks one of the blankets around him and reaches his hand out to me. I wish I could face the world like he does.

I don't have any luggage, only Will and a bag with both his stuff and a change of clothes for me. He reaches for me again and I disengage the baby-seat from the seatbelt; William starts to protest not being directly into my arms, but he suddenly quiets. I look at him and he is looking at some point behind me and I feel a tingle all the way to the base of my spine.

I turn around and sure thing - he is there. He is at the old front door, wearing an old and beaten sweatshirt. His hair is longer and more rumpled; his eyes look older even from where I stand.

Our eyes won't look away, locked in a twisted union. We just stare at each other for the longest eyes until something breaks the spell. We both look away at the same time and we don't say anything to each other.

He walks to the car and retrieves the bag that was sitting in the backseat and goes into the house, leaving me to follow him with Will.

The heater in the house greets me like an embrace; I wasn't sure if it even had a heater. Inside, the house is completely different. It isn't decadent; it is simply amazing. There's a fireplace that is burning log in slow flames, gorgeous tapestry and breathtaking pictures on the walls.

We still haven't said anything to each other and I put Will's car seat on the floor and turn around to check the living room in its entirety. For one small second, I wish it were mine; I wish it were ours. But it isn't. It is nothing but a hiding place.

"I've had luck with this one, haven't I?" He says, breaking the silence for the first time.

I simply nod and slowly turn to face him. I'm so afraid he can see I'm trembling and the worst part is that I don't know why I'm afraid of it. He's seen me breaking down so many times, but I don't have to accept it.

I finally face him and I see that he is smiling. I don't know how he can do it. Smile after all this time. But he can, and it still takes my breath away.

He moves closer and my heart speeds up in my chest; then, he is crouching beside me and looking at Will, who returns the stare with the same intensity. He disentangles Will from all of his blankets and releases him from the seat, standing up holding the baby in his arms.

I can feel the tears burning in the back of my throat, but I don't let them get to my eyes. Instead, I smile at them and it stretches the muscles in my face, not having been used in the last months except for some occasional Will-happiness moment.

He studies the baby closely, touching the small fingers in his hand, the small feet clad in wool, the head that has a light trace of reddish-brown hair, the nose and mouth, the expression-filled blue eyes; he examines it all, desperation filling his every movement. Will simply stares back, giggling once in a while when he reaches a ticklish spot.

"He's so perfect," He whispers.

"He is," I agree, even knowing he said it mostly to himself.

I think we're both equally hating and loving life right now.

He shows me the house, all the rooms decorated with white linen sheets. He holds the baby all the time, not having let him down since he picked him up downstairs. William, in turn, feels pretty comfortable; his death grip on the beaten sweatshirt calming him.

There is a distance between us. An uncomfortable silence filling the rooms we pass.

He shows me the main room and I see the huge bed in there. It is cherry wood and clearly, antique. There is also an old crib in the room. It is a beautiful piece, probably worth a fortune.

"I found it in the attic," he offers as an explanation, even though I didn't ask anything.

I nod at him.

"It is beautiful. Thank you, Mulder." As soon as it leaves my mouth, I realize that saying this name changes everything.

It makes everything real.

This time he is the one who simply nods and turns away. He goes to the enormous window and shows Will the falling snow, who extends his hand towards the snow, only to have Mulder stop him before he touches the cold glass.

I haven't stopped shaking yet.

Seeing them together makes everything harder. This was supposed to be a quick and painless thing.

Right, and I'll become Director of the FBI.

Mulder insisted I ought to be hungry and lead me to the kitchen. It was equally as huge as the rest of the house, but more modern than I expected. Not exactly ultra-modern, but it seems to have been decorated in the 50's.

He fixes me a sandwich and tells me to eat it. I do, despite not being hungry. I finish it in no time, more interested in seeing Mulder interacting with Will. It makes me think of what cannot be; at least, it is possible for this night.

I look at my clock and see that it is almost nine o'clock. Nothing in the house remembers Christmas, but it's coming and we can't run away from it.

Christmas is less than two hours away and my mood has apparently improved according to William-o-meter. He's been sucking on my nipple for the last fifteen minutes, no sign of wanting to stop.

When I first sat to feed him, Mulder turned away. Now, he'd given up the act and was facing Will and me, focused on Will's hand that captured his little finger five minutes ago.

I feel my other breast hurt and William lets go of the one he was sucking on to search for the other. Mulder picks him up while I cover the exposed breast and uncover the other one, picking up William and letting him latch on that one.

Mulder averted his eyes the entire time.

William is finally dozing off, still nursing, and both my breasts hurt now. I guess not being properly fed the entire day resulted in this.

Mulder hasn't said a word since William started protesting for food. He now moved to the couch opposite to the one I'm sitting on, elbows on knees, looking at Will.

When I'm sure Will is down for the night, I pull him away from my breast. He doesn't protest and I pull my sweatshirt over my chest, not bothering with the maternity bra or the button shirt. He settles against my chest again, breathing steadily.

"Do you want to put him on the crib?" Mulder asks and I nod.

He leads me up the stairs and into the main room, pulling the blankets in the crib so I can lay Will down. He briefly opens his eyes and closes them again; snuggling in the blankets Mulder pulls over him.

I watch him for a little while to make sure he is asleep. Then I turn and see Mulder on the window again; this time, William-less with his arms crossed.

"Mulder?" I whisper and hate the way my voice falters. I close my eyes for a second and then his arms are suddenly around me and mine around him.

My head melts into his neck and his chin is on top of my head. It isn't fair. This feels so right; more right than anything that has happened in the past months. This shouldn't feel so right, so necessary; not when I can't have him with me all the time.

But I can have him tonight.

We've made love of all kinds; desperate, slow, fast, earth-shattering, happy, sad, fear filled, needy.

This is new, different. This is everything together.

Our clothes were carelessly abandoned in the floor and the comforter now caresses the skin of his back while the expensive cotton linen caresses mine.

I cry out in pain and pleasure when he enters me; my nails press into his back, trying to pull him closer, deeper.

He pulls me closer as well, our bodies touching wherever they can. His mouths crashes into mine for a kiss and I allow my mind to dwell on how much I've missed this; it is the one concession I can make when his kiss makes every fiber on my body yearn for him and his touch.

He touches everywhere he can reach. His hands work softly on my breasts, afraid of the new nature of them; they work with more certainty and curiosity on my stomach and thighs, as if he was touching them for the first time, not the thousandth.

My hands run up and down his back, over his chest, his hair. I explore his chest again, as if the previous times hadn't been enough for me to map every muscle and tissue there.

He is thrusting faster now; going deeper and getting us closer to release. I moan my approval and he replies by kissing me again.

We get more desperate by the second, clinging to each other. My hips are rising with every thrust, anxious to meet his midways. We're both panting heavily and our eyes lock in each other.

*This shouldn't be like this. It only makes everything more difficult*, my eyes say. *I know*, his eyes agree.

Then, before me mind drifts into its vision of a perfect world that cannot be, my orgasm hits, showing me more perfection than any vision ever could. Mulder is right behind me, collapsing seconds later on top of me. I welcome him by involving him in my arms and he thanks me with his breath on my neck.

Thoughts of what cannot be threaten again and I push them down, too exhaust to deal with them right now.

A beep in Mulder's watch warns us that it's Christmas and Mulder pulls me closer before we both drift off.

I wake up to find out that Mulder rolled off of me and is now against my back, hand on my stomach pulling me to him.

I move my head to look out the window and this is definitely the whitest Christmas I've ever had.

I wish I were a child again and the world was problem-free; I would make snow-angels and have snow- ball fights.

"Mah?" I hear a small voice call from a few feet away from me. I look at Will, who is standing on the crib, looking at me and smiling.

I won't let my mind dwell on how four-months shouldn't stand nor speak short words. Instead, I untangle myself from Mulder's grasp on my stomach and stand to walk to Will, not bothering with putting my clothes back on. He lifts his hands from the crib to reach for me and I obey, picking him up.

I go back to bed with him and sit with my back to the headboard. He sits on my lap and I turn him so he is facing Mulder. He shrieks in delight and Mulder wakes up.

At first, I'm afraid he is going to get grumpy like he always does when someone wakes him up, but he merely smiles. He reaches for Will, who goes willingly into his arms. He puts Will down between us and Will lifts his legs so he can reach his feet and chuckles innocently.

He alternates in looking between Mulder and me and giggling hysterically. I want to ask what is so funny but I'm relieved by seeing his smile. I love when Will's smiles. They remind me so much of Mulder, when he would introduce me to some crazy assed theory or surprise me with apparently insignificant gifts; gifts that came to mean so much to me.

Will's giggles have turned into incoherent baby-speak and Mulder is the one smiling broadly now.

He agrees with everything William says in his direction and his hands touch absently the baby skin on Will's face.

The smell of dirty diaper hits me and I think Mulder feels it at the same time. He retrieves the bag in a corner of the bedroom and points in the directions of the bathroom. The bathroom is as impressive as the bedroom; it is entirely decorated in marble and gold. I change Will quickly and head back into the room, holding my son close to my nude body. This has always calmed him, my body heat lulling him to sleep. Right now, though it has no effect and when I reach the bed again Will almost throws himself into Mulder's arms, surprising Mulder and me.

Mulder reaches for him and Will nestles in Mulder chest, looking up to me and then hiding in Mulder again. He seems to find that this is the most hilarious game in the world and dissolves in giggles again.

Mulder, in turn, seems enthralled by the small body close to his and I can see he is holding his breath. I know how he is feeling; I just had more time to deal with it.

I join them in the bed, and Will crawls to the space between Mulder and me, showing so much control of his little body that I feel something inside me tighten.

He looks too warm and comfortable in his little baby- clothes; so secure and unreachable to anyone not in this room. He lies down, facing the ceiling and watches the shadows up there.

He closes his eyes and the shadows change into forms; suddenly, he opens his eyes and giggles at the result.

I feel my body tense and I pray that Mulder hasn't seen what just happened, even though I know it's useless wishing. He looks at the ceiling, watching the forms dance around. There is a moon and some stars and they chase each other.

My mind starts to imagine what will happen next; all the questions, the looks. My body is shaking again and I risk stealing a glance at Mulder; his expression surprises me. He chastely smiles and claps softly.

"Nice trick, kiddo. But I think you're tired and you should rest." He says to Will and the forms dissipate into its original shadows. Will turns to Mulder and laughs softly before turning completely on his side facing away from me. Mulder puts a hand on the baby's back and moves it up and down in a rhythmic manner.

When he stops, Will is asleep. I don't trust my shaking body to move; Mulder is the one that takes Will to the crib, our unspoken communication showing its existence once again. He then returns and pulls me into his embrace. I feel some tears fall and he runs his hands through my hair.

"Shhh, Scully. Shhhh," he whispers into my ear. "I knew. I always knew." He says, his voice so full of conviction.

I'm still waiting for the questions; I'm even waiting for a fight. But he doesn't say anything else. He simply holds me.

Then it dawns on me. He knows. He knows everything.

I involve him in my own arms and feel my world close as sleep pulls me down and under.

This time, when I wake up, Mulder is not with me. I look over to the small crib and Will is not there either. I begin to panic when I hear some noises coming from downstairs: baby-giggle and Mulder's laugh. I feel my heart slow down from the frenzy it went on a couple seconds ago and leave the bed in search of something to wear. I find the old sweatshirt Mulder was wearing yesterday and pull it on. I find my underwear somewhere near the door and pull it on as well, not bothering with pants since the sweatshirt's hem is somewhere around my knees. I do bother with socks, a pair I find on the baby-bag with the few clothes I brought.

I go down the stairs and stop in the kitchen, frozen in the vision before me. Mulder's back is to me, so he doesn't see me right away and Will is thankfully too interested in the whatever Mulder is showing him that he doesn't give away my presence too soon.

Part of me wants to hate Mulder for doing this; it will just make tomorrow morning more difficult. But I know he needs this. He needs to have whatever time he can with William. I can't take it away from him.

William finally spots me in the giant doorway and squeals with delight, making Mulder turn around. The bags under his eyes are not so strong today and I feel a pull at my heart.

"We didn't want to wake you up, so we came down here to have a chat, man to man. Right, Will?" Will seems to ignore him, choosing to stare at me. "Merry Christmas, by the way, Scully."

"Merry Christmas, Mulder." I say back to him while Will is still staring at me.

"Mah? Mahhhhh." He says and I walk to him. He is sitting on the kitchen table, protected by Mulder's arms. Mulder holds his waist when he tries to reach out for me.

I pull a chair close to Mulder and sit. Will moves in my direction and stretches his little hands toward me again and I pull him into my arms. He snuggles closer and his hands start to roam over my chest, indicating he is hungry. It's been over ten hours since he was last fed, so I quickly comply with his request, the long sweatshirt I'm wearing not making things easy. Mulder holds Will while I pull the sweatshirt up to my neck and reach for the baby again.

He latches on in a second and starts to suckle, closing his eyes while he does it. I look up to see that, this time, Mulder is staring at Will and me, letting more on his expression than last night.

He reaches out to touch Will's cheek and his fingers brush against my sensitive breast and I give him a warning glance as I feel a heat spread through my body. He looks almost apologetic and I swear he blushes.

Will seems oblivious to everything happening around him, choosing to have his breakfast quietly.

Will fell asleep during his breakfast, nodding off against my chest after twenty minutes. I walked over to the living room and found his car seat on the couch. I put him down in there, hoping he was truly down for his morning nap. He didn't move and started to softly snore like he always does when he sleeps in a sitting position. I put him on the floor, no use in being worried he'd fall from the couch.

Now, five minutes later, Mulder comes out of the kitchen, bearing two mugs, one on each hand.

"I made us some hot chocolate," he says as he hands me one of the mugs.. I look inside to see some tiny marshmallows floating in the hot liquid.

"Thanks," I say when he sits down beside me, our bodies not touching. We drink the chocolate in silence; both of us staring into nothing, lost in our thoughts.

I deposit my mug on the coffee table in front of us once I'm done and Mulder puts his next to mine. I sit back on the couch, letting the warm liquid settle inside me.

I feel my body relax a little bit and then Mulder is pulling me into him; to my surprise, I feel my body give in without any resistance.

He still doesn't say anything to me and I'm thankful. I'm too afraid that if we discuss my coming here, we'll realize the true risks and how wrong it is and I can't bear to think about it. Not when it feels so right to have his arms around me like this.

Our bodies slide on the couch so that we're lying on our side and my back is to Mulder's chest. Mulder sneaks his hand under the hem of the sweatshirt I'm wearing and rests it on my stomach, like he used to do. His palms are always warm, never too dry nor wet; they're perfect. He moves his hand in slow circles, while his breath caresses my ear.

This is heaven and I can't bear the thought of leaving it.

My watch says it's 8:09pm. Christmas Day will soon be over. My entire being fears the true meaning of it.

Mulder and I are lying on the bed, awake. My head is resting on his chest, my fingers intertwined with his above his heart. We moved upstairs after having sex on the couch and falling asleep, waking up only with Will's cries of hunger.

William is now sleeping peacefully on his crib, fed, bathed and changed.

"Do you like this house, Scully?" Mulder asks me, thankfully pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. Do you?"

"Yeah." It is a beautiful house. It is old and it needs a serious makeover on the outside, but the inside is simply gorgeous. I have no idea why Mulder is inquiring me on it, though.

"I like it too." He says, still not clueing me into his thoughts. A couple minutes later, he adds, "What do you think of me buying it?"

"What?!?" I ask, completely lost.

"I'm thinking of buying it. I wanted to know what you thought." He says and I raise my head from where it lies in his chest to look at him. He is serious.

"Mulder, you know you can't." I say simply and hope it knocks him back into good-sense. He can't buy a house. He can't settle now.

"I'll buy it for later, Scully. I'll buy it as soon as I leave it and then, after, we'll make use of it." He says, the *we* not being lost on me.

"Mulder we don't know if--" I start to say, but he interrupts me.

"Scully, don't take this away from me," he says in a quiet voice while he pulls me closer to him, "If you take this away from me, there is no reason for this entire nightmare." He says and I know he is talking of more than giving or taking away the prospect of a house. He is talking about the hope for a future. Our future.

I'm too afraid to believe in it and he is too afraid of not having anything to make him believe in it.

I nod at him and bury my head in his chest again. Maybe he has enough strength to make both of us believe.

I wake up for the third time this night and I know I won't be able to sleep, so I might as well give it up. I've slept enough not to do so while I'm driving back to D.C., so I can give up that pretense.

My watch tells me it's 4:39am. Will and I will have to leave soon. Mulder will also leave for his next hideout.

In three hours I'll go back to a semi-Mulderless life. I'll go back to pretending these last days haven't happened. I'll go back to the waiting of seeing him again.

My thoughts send shivers down my spine and I seek out for Mulder's body heat. I entangle myself around him, desperately wanting to feel him. He wakes up and I see in his eyes that he is fearing the same things.

There are tears in both our eyes before we close them and he kisses my forehead. He slowly kisses down my face, finally reaching my mouth. He slowly kisses my lips, only touching them briefly before pulling back. I feel a different shiver run down my spine when his tongue touches my lips and I invite him into my mouth. He greedily accepts the invitation and his lips are pressed against mine, our tongues touching and dancing inside our mouths.

Our naked bodies search each other blindly, calming only when we're joined. The stillness lasts only a few seconds; then, we start moving like the world is going to die in a few hours. In a way, it will.

His eyes are so deep, so full of expression. Will's eyes are like that, though their color is more like mine. I test our spoken communication and ask him something.

Yep, it is still working. He rolls us so that I'm on top and I can stare at him like this. I control our pace, not letting desperation get the best of us. I bend down and kiss him slowly and thoroughly. He returns the kiss and raises a hand to touch my breasts. He is careful not to tug on the nipple, only moving his fingers around the pale skin. He watches as the nipple hardens, pain and pleasure joined inside me. My breasts get heavier and he holds them in his hands, as if he knew what to do.

Our pace starts to get erratic as we both yearn for the release and I start to move faster. Mulder takes one of his hands away from my breast and down my navel, finding the bundle of nerves there. He rolls it between his fingers as our bodies move against each other and I feel my muscles contract around him. He moans in pleasure and does it again, satisfied with the result. He repeats the act several times; always getting the same answer until the moment I tighten around him and don't release the grip. My climax hits powerfully and I feel my internal muscles pull him in deeper and deeper. He gasps while he comes too, spilling into me.

I fall forward, resting my head on his neck. I'm exhaust; too exhaust to think about the next hours. Mulder's hand finds my lower back and it starts tracing patterns there, his breath still uneven.

We don't want to think.

The sky has cleared a little bit and Mulder and I watched the shadows the sunrise played in the walls.

We're now facing each other, our heads supported on the pillows. Our legs are intertwined, but they're the only part of our bodies touching.

I'm looking into his eyes as if they hold the answers we search and he is doing the same. We're both doing what we promised ourselves we wouldn't do: regretting. I don't regret coming here; I never would. But we're regretting our decisions and that cannot happen. It can't happen because then we'll want to change our minds and it will put William and ourselves in danger.

We both know we shouldn't discuss it. We shouldn't even be here at this moment.

The pull is too strong. It has always been. It's stronger than us.

I promised myself I wouldn't think of the life we could lead, should our decisions have been different. I promised myself I wouldn't regret my decisions. Mostly, I promised myself this was supposed to be only a test, a mean to prove that we made the right choice. But now, looking into his eyes, I shudder at the thought of going back to my life.

Going back to a life where I don't see him every day and our communication is scarce and vague, - a life where our fear gets the best of us.

The only thing that weighs against it all is William. Without him, we'd be back at being the same people who lost everything during a fight. He was the outcome of it all and the reason why we'll still have strength to fight back when time comes. He is the reason why we will have to fight back.

Mulder and I are stronger when together and William is the epitome of this strength, this union, even when we must be apart.

I reach out my hand to Mulder to touch his face. I cup his cheekbone in my hand and he closes his eyes and brings his hand to hold mine closer.

We spent so much of our lives in fear we learnt to distance ourselves not to be hurt. It doesn't always work, but it was always the most effective way. Right now, I don't care about the pain I'm about to bring to both of us because we need it.

"I love you." I tell him and his eyes snap open. He doesn't say anything, he just pulls me closer until our bodies are touching in every possible plane and I feel tears wetting my shoulder.

I can only hope my words will help us through the next months and outweigh the pain.

I'm holding the tears back on the shower. I've always hated crying and the shower was always an easy choice, because if the tears came, they wouldn't be as noticed. But right now, if I cry, I won't be able to stop.

I hear the sounds of Will waking up in the room and then the sounds of Mulder talking to him. The feeling of loss returns to me, the loss Mulder will feel when we leave.

I bite back the tears once again and concentrate on washing my hair completely. I close my eyes in an extra-effort to stop the tears from even forming and I gasp when cold air hits me and Mulder enters the shower with William in his arms.

Will reaches out to me and I hold him close to me. He hits his hands on the water like he always does when I let him get under the water spray with me instead of bathing him. He starts to giggle when the water hits Mulder several times and Mulder uses his hand to lightly let the water trickle over Will's head.

The water starts to get cold once Will's game starts to get out of control and Mulder leaves the shower first, coming back to involve Will in a big fluffy towel and hold another one for me. I accept the towel and dry myself completely, before reaching for the clothes I'd left on the stool next to the shower and dressing. Mulder takes Will into the main room and returns with him fully clothed.

I don't say anything about my previous fears that he might not feel adequate around Will or something like that. He seems so natural that I'm afraid that if I say something, a spell will be broken.

Mulder leaves Will with me and goes back into the main room, opening some doors and drawers. I busy myself with brushing Will's thin hair and my own, then collecting everything of mine I can find. I have everything in the baby bag by in no time and I go into the main room to find Mulder dressed in jeans and a gray sweatshirt. His hair is wet like mine and he runs his hand over it.

He looks at his watch and closes his eyes shortly. When he opens them again he walks to me and takes the baby bag from my hand. He collects Will's blankets from the crib and we leave the room together.

Will looks up to me, lifting his head from my shoulder and gives me a puzzled look. I don't say anything to him; I turn to him and kiss his little head.

Mulder gets the baby seat in the living room and opens the door for me, balancing the bag on his shoulder and the car seat and blankets on the other hand.

I open the back door so Mulder can secure the baby seat in the back seat and check it to see if he put it right. He puts the bag on the other side along with Will's blankets. He then reaches for Will, who goes eagerly.

He walks a little bit away from me and I can hear his voice talking to Will, but I can't make any words out of it. His voice is tight and strained and Will seems entranced by it. He is quiet, satisfied in holding Mulder thumb in his little hand.

A few minutes later, Mulder comes back to the car and he doesn't meet my eyes right away. When he does, he makes clear how difficult this is for him. I nod at him and reach for William so I can put him in the car seat. Will doesn't even move, he simply reaches for one of his blankets and starts kneading the fabric.

I make sure once again that the seat is completely secure and then move closer to Mulder.

Mulder doesn't say anything to me, he simply pulls me into his arms and we stay like that for a few instants.

When we pull apart, our eyes meet and I stand on tiptoe and lightly touch my lips to his.

Then I'm turning to the car and opening the door. I enter without looking back, doing so only when I'm sure it's safe. I look at him and he looks at me and then at Will. I turn the car on and pull the car from the driveway, not letting the tears appear in my eyes.

I look back in the mirror and I still see him, arms crossed and head down. He gets smaller by the second and then the house starts to become just a point as well.

Will looks sad as well, but doesn't cry. He simply meets my eye in the rearview mirror and I feel a little bit of hope grow in my heart.

Will is the future.

He is *our* future.

More than that, he is my proof that life can be made out of stolen moments.

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