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Title: Unthinkable Things Summary: Sometimes waiting is the hardest part. Thanks to: MD, shoshana, and Sara Lynn for the quick betas. Scully's apartment "You are the only company I have now, sweetie," I said to my stomach. I began talking to my child in the past few weeks. She is a very good listener. I decided that the baby is a girl. My daughter. That has a nice sound to it. I've got the television tuned to some mindless sitcom where a crisis happens and is remedied in under a half hour. If only real life were so easy. Things have been strained with Mulder ever since he left the hospital. He is very distant to me. We haven't talked about his abduction since the day I brought him home. He has decided to plunge headfirst back into work and the X-Files. I know he received a clean bill of health, but I wish he had taken things slower. Oh, who am I kidding? I did the same thing when I was returned. But this is different. He was dead. Then he was alive. And he hovered somewhere in between the two until Skinner took him off the respirator. "I can't wait for you to meet your Daddy." I rubbed my hand over my stomach in soothing motions. It's a new habit I've acquired when I'm worried. I've been very worried ever since he started back to work. One morning I came into the office and he had a far away look on his face. I asked him if everything was all right and he barked out a yes and grabbed the file on the desk and walked past me to the elevator. I fear he's remembering what they did to him. From his injuries, I have a pretty good idea, but I don't have the first-hand account of it burned into my memory banks like Mulder does. My nightmares of what they did to him were more than enough. He suffered unthinkable things. "One day, when you're older," I told her, adjusting the pillow behind my back, "I will tell you how we met and what we've been through the past eight years." I've been doing mostly desk work due to my pregnancy and that's fine. I took too many chances during my first trimester and I'm much more careful now. If only Mulder would follow my example. He's off with Doggett a lot. They haven't killed each other yet, so that's a good sign. Perhaps he will look after Mulder and advise him against taking any unnecessary risks. I obviously can't get through to him. I thought after all that happened, he would want to be more careful. But he's gone back to his old ways. I made another attempt a couple of days ago to get him to open up to me. Agent Doggett asked for my help. He and Mulder had gotten back from assisting on a case in Chicago. Doggett told me that Mulder seemed distant and distracted during the two days they were they. He had been late for appointments and even fallen asleep at the wheel. If not for Agent Doggett in the car with him, this time he might have really been killed. I went to his apartment. That was a big mistake. From the moment he opened the door to let me in, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. There was a near empty bottle of vodka sitting on the table in front of the couch. "Scully, what now?" He flopped down on the couch. "Don't you have motherly things to do?" he asked. The words were slurred. "I was worried about you," I told him. "Agent Doggett-" "I'm fine. You heard what the doctors said. I'm in perfect health." He took another swig from the bottle. "Mulder-" "Look, Scully, don't you and your baby have somewhere else to be?" I turned and walked as fast as I could out of his apartment Before he could see the tears in my eyes. I know I shouldn't have, but I left a message on his answering machine the next day. That's where we stand now. "He'll talk to us when he wants to." I clicked the television off and closed my eyes, savoring the silence. I was so tired I could fall asleep right here on the couch. A loud knock at the door interrupted my alone time with my daughter. I waddled over to the door (yes I'm at the waddling stage now). "Scully, it's me," Mulder announced. I opened the door, wondering what kind of mood he'd be in tonight. "Hey." He walked right past me and into my living room with purposeful strides. "I'm sorry about the other night," he told me. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I apologize for the way I acted." "I guess I've been just a bit overprotective since you've come back," I told him. It was the truth. I not only have my child to worry about, but him too, as always. "I've started to remember the things that happened to me, Scully." he admitted. "The flashbacks are . . . very vivid. I can't tell you about them. I don't want to tell you about them, if that's what you were trying to get me to open up to you about." "But, Mulder-" I knew the instant it came out of my mouth I was pushing the envelope. "I can't, Scully. I just can't. Perhaps one day I'll be comfortable talking about it, but not now. Not to you. You don't need to hear the things that happened to me. I don't want that for you." My vision was blurred by the tears running down my cheeks; I stepped closer to him, taking one of his hands in mine. "But I'm here if you want me to listen." "I know," he said softly, pressing a kiss against my forehead and hugging me as best as he could due to my ever increasing size. It was such a comfort having his arms around me again. I didn't realize how much I had missed it. "Will you stay with me tonight?" The question came out before I could stop it. I remembered all the times we spent sleeping or otherwise in my bedroom, just enjoying time alone with him. I wanted more of that time where we could think of nothing but each other. Huddled underneath the covers with Mulder's body pressed against mine, where I had nothing to worry about except the alarm, signaling the intrusion of reality on our newfound relationship. He smiled at me for the first time since his return, as if he could read my thoughts. "Yes." I never thought one word could make me feel so happy and wanted. He walked towards the bedroom holding my hand muttering something about hoping the bed is big enough for both of us. "Daddy's staying with us tonight," I whispered to my unborn daughter. The END
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