Title: More Than The Clouds
Author: little Starbuck*
Rating: PG
Genre: Pregnancy, MSR.
Feedback: Yes Please! Send to [email protected]
Disclaimer: Only in dreams do these characters belong to me. In reality,
which I an slowly slipping away from, they belong to 1013, Chris Carter,
the actors who portray them, and Fox!
Spoilers: End of season eight.- Mostly Finale.
Distribution: I would be happy to share, please keep my name on it.
Summary: Scully gives birth to the miracle she's prayed for!
~*Pleeze Enjoy*~
I pause for a moment to take in my surroundings. He shouldn't have let
me go, rather, I shouldn't have let him. I'll have this baby, sure, but
it won't feel right... not without Mulder by my side. And, right now,
I'm so afraid.
Monica has been so helpful. She's taken me to this foreign place where
the air is damp and the stench of mildew is present in the air. But,
it's fine... there's a bed and there's a small supply of water. That's
all I really need. I'll just stick to pretending that I'm in the days of
the cavemen, when the women gave birth in the forest or on a cold bed of
stones.
The first contraction took place about ten minutes ago when I was
helping Monica set up the bed. It was less painful than I'd expected...
but then again I had never expected to have this miracle growing inside
me. I didn't expect to be delivering it into the world without my best
friend with me, either. Why did I let him go? Why did I drop his hand
without the slightest hesitation? Was it because I've grown to trust him
so very much? Or was it because I simply wasn't thinking? In any case,
I'd give anything for him to be here now. Anything!
It's been an hour now, since we first arrived at this cold, dark place.
The only comfort is being provided by these warm candles that Monica
thought to bring along. Another contraction comes... and goes. I bear it
silently, calmly, trying to picture the remarkable outcome of this
ordeal. And in picturing this child's red, screaming face I can only
think of one person... Mulder. I don't think I've ever thought about him
for this long or this hard. Is this what is making my stomach turn or my
heat race? Can this be the reason for my fear? Is it simply because he
isn't here?
Monica says I should lay down now. The contractions are coming more
frequently. Perhaps, this is why I'm afraid... afraid to become a
mother. What will I tell this baby when she asks about her birth, as I
asked my mother countless times? What shall I tell her of her father?
Was it truly the divine hand that created this being inside of me... my
prayer finally answered? Or is the progenitor of this child the man I
hoped it would be all along... that man who cannot be here now, to
witness his own infant take it's first breath? How will I ever know?
My water has broken. It should be only hours now. Monica sits with me,
holding my hand... providing what little comfort she is able to with her
gentle touch. Of all things, why forget pain killers? I don't blame
her... I don't blame anyone but myself. And in blaming myself for
everything that has gone wrong, I am also able to "blame" myself for
this miracle about to take place. My gaze doesn't leave the door. I'm
still hoping for him to walk in at the last moment and witness the
marvel, first hand. I know he wishes he could be here. I could see that
in his deep, hazel eyes when he let me go... As if he was saying, "I'll
try with all my heart to be there."
"PUSH!" she yells, as if she is actually the one delivering the baby. I
think she's trying to "feel my pain", if you will. Perhaps she can
imagine the physical aspect of it, but not the loss I'm feeling inside,
the need for him, for his presence. I push, as directed, even though I
am much more qualified to be giving these directions. Does she know what
she's doing at all, aside from the dramatized TV births she's seen? I
trust her, though. She's taken me this far. One of the last things
Mulder said to me was, "You are going to have this baby." I believe him.
I can hear him gasp for breath. My own child. My own very human child,
crying out to me. I can't help but begin crying, too. As Monica hand's
him over to me I feel like all the prayers I've ever said, anything I've
ever hoped for has come true in this baby's eyes. I thank God, almost
silently and kiss this child, William, on the forehead. He looks like
his mom.
I can hear Mulder's footsteps quickly approaching out in the hall. His
smiling face soon greets my tired one in the doorway. He comes to sit by
me on the bed. I feel safe now. He tells me that Billy Miles is gone. He
won't hurt me, now. Mulder pulls a white sheet of paper from his coat
pocket.
"I found this at your apartment." He says softly as he hands me the
folded sheet. I already know what it is. It's a poem I wrote, a prayer
for this little miracle...
--- I hoped and prayed and dreamed aloud,,, thinking all who could hear me
were the clouds---
I read the poem to myself, silently. Mulder reaches out to my son and
touches his hand, gently. There is an unspoken love...a bond only a
father and son can have.
Now I know... God must have heard me. It was more than the clouds.
~*The End*~
Author's notes:
The season finale airs tonight. I've read spoilers for the entire
episode and I know, what happens at the end is more than we shipper's
could have hoped for. But, I needed to write a final fic for this
season- which, IMHO, has been one of the best yet. Thanx to CC for eight
great years!