Title: Mysterious Ways
Summary: Scully didn't want to run any more.
written for SW7's challenge
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine. You know that, don't you?Given first paragraph:
She hadn't packed a bag before she boarded the plane that night. Her daughter squirmed in her arms as flight 2643 to Mumbai finally got off the ground. Dana needed a change, but the finality of being airbourne flipped her stomach a little, and she wasn't sure it was the excitement anymore.
This trip seemed so sudden to her. Hell, this baby seemed sudden for that matter. At first she'd thought the morning sickness was just the sick guilt she felt from hiding the truth about that night at the train station. About two stolen hours with him. Mulder made her promise that she wouldn't tell anyone that they'd met, so the horror she felt at having to lie to Doggett, Reyes, and Skinner, claiming not to know if Mulder was even alive, ate her up inside. Of course she threw up. She thought.
The worst thing of all was that she didn't even know she was pregnant until a week after she gave William up for adoption. Then it became another thing not to tell anyone about, least they whisper about whether or not she was going to "give this one up too." They never said it, but she could hear it so loudly in her mind.
Mulder was the only one she confided in about her pregnancy, because they'd gone on the run before she'd begun to show. Being Mulder, he dealt with it by more or less ignoring her increasingly bulging waistline. He made no concessions to her condition at all as dragged her from one rat hole to another as they tried to keep a low profile in Mexico. It took all her concentration just to endure, so she barely noticed that he barely mentioned the baby. He never said the word miracle.
Eventually he had to mention the baby, when she went into labor on their way home from buying food at a little market where most of the people still spoke too fast for them to understand. At least labor is a universal event, so they were able to get some help. A woman named Maria urged her through the delivery in a strange combination of lyrical Spanish and broken English.
It didn't take as long as when William was born.
And there were no alien replacements.
Blythe looked so much like William did as a newborn that it was all she could do to keep from crying when she looked at her daughter the first two weeks. Which, she thought, was really ironic given her name meant joyous. Mulder, of course, adored the baby. Maybe more so than he might have since it was obvious that she didn't.
Two things happened around the same time: She got over the baby blues, and she got fed up with the sameness of their day to day run through Mexico. She'd had it, and didn't want to run any more; they could settle into anonymity deep in Mexico, in her opine. He, of course, said it wasn't safe, and he wasn't going to stay.
After she called his bluff, he left.
That was four months ago.
Now they were on the plane, to meet Mulder in India. It seemed strange to her, even as they boarded the plane, but it had all come down to a phone call. There had been some yelling, enough to make Blythe flinch in her sleep, but then they'd gotten down to the important things. For some reason, Mulder wanted to try to start over in India. She'd thought she'd asked him why, but when she hanged up it occurred to her that he hadn't really said. Just that it would be worth it.
Somehow she believed him.
When the plane touched down, she realized that her muscles had all cramped. If even a small adult was so ill-used by an international flight, how did someone as big as Mulder hold up? It took effort to force her limbs to work correctly, to step, to carry the baby. Eventually they got off the plane and entered the noisy airport.
Before she could really begin to look for Mulder, she heard a shout. "Scully!" Whipping around, she saw Mulder standing about 20 feet away. He wasn't alone.
A very small boy with red hair and an uncertain expression clutched onto Mulder's big fingers. He gave Scully and the baby a curious look once he realized that Mulder wasn't upset by their presence.
"How did you…? What…?" The thoughts fell out of her mouth half-formed.
Grinning, he threw his free arm around her waist. "It's a long story, Scully. I'll tell you all in due time. But how much do you know about Kumara?"
Her brow wrinkled, puzzled, until she connected the image of the Hindu god to the name. "The child god?"
"For now let's just say that our God isn't the only one who works in mysterious ways," Mulder told her as he shepherded his newly reunited family out of the airport.
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