Title - Wisdom to Know the Difference

Rating - G

Category - Mulder/Scully Romance, Angst

Spoilers - Emily

Summary - Mulder helps Scully face the one year anniversary of Emily's death and ends up with his own revelation from a surprising source.

Disclaimer - The characters don't belong to me. I'm just using them for my own therapeutic purposes. They will be returned to Chris Carter relatively unharmed when I'm done.

Wisdom to Know the Difference

By Henle Girl

"God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference." - - - Serenity Prayer, Reinhold Niebuhr

Scully stares blankly into the mirror in her hotel room, the sounds from next door barely registering in her mind. She doesn't know why she consented to letting him come along. This is the first year since . . . it all happened. She was alone then. She should be alone now. But he insisted. And in a moment of weakness, she let him have his way.

"You about ready, Scully?" Mulder asks, popping his head through the door connecting their rooms. He pulls his arms through his own jacket and grabs hers from off the coat rack.

"Yes," she says in a voice barely above a whisper. She turns around and sticks her arms through the sleeves, sighing in contentment as she's enveloped in the warmth of the jacket. Although, the peace that settles over her probably has more to do with the man holding the jacket than the jacket itself.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You know that she's not really . . . I mean after last year when we opened the casket . . . "

"I'm sure," she says with a small, forced smile. She takes his hand in her own and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I need to do this. It's been a year, Mulder."

"Yeah. I know," he says sheepishly, looking down at his feet. "That's why I took this case out here. I thought it would be good for us to come."

"You don't have to do this. I'll be okay," she insists, although she's not so sure she believes it herself. She unconsciously tightens her grip on his hand, causing him to wince a little. She notices his discomfort and apologizes. "Oh, I'm sorry."

She tries to drop his hand, but he doesn't let her. Instead, he laces his fingers with hers, pulling her closer to his side.

"Don't be," he smiles. "Hold on for as long as you need me. I won't let you go."

Her eyes water at his sweet words, tears threatening to fall. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, in attempt to stave off the emotional downpour. She can do this, she says to herself. She has to do this. She needs to come to terms with what happened once and for all. She needs to let go of a little girl who was never really hers to begin with. But that didn't stop her from loving the child all the same. She'd never get to be a mother to her, but in her heart, the girl will always be her daughter. Her Emily.

He watches her from a few feet away, not daring to get any closer. Not wanting the risk the pain of having her push him away. He knows she'd rather be here alone. But he just couldn't let her do this by herself today. Besides, he needs to be here too. She just doesn't know that.

The wind starts to pick up and he notices how much colder it's gotten. They've been here for a long time. He walks over to the grave and drops a white rose on top of it, placing his hand on Scully's shoulder.

"Are you about ready?" he asks. "It's getting cold out here."

She just nods, unable to speak just yet. She takes a gloved hand and wipes away the tears on her face. For a moment he's stunned at the glistening streaks on her cheeks. There have been too few times he's seen her cry. That means there have been too many times she's cried alone. Too many times they've both cried alone.

"Are you okay?"

"Actually, I am," she says with a teary smile. "It was good I came today. I needed to let it go. I know I'll never forget her, but I've come to terms with what happened. I've come to terms with the need to grieve for her loss. Thank you, Mulder." She stands on her tip toes and presses a kiss against his cheek. She gives him another smile and heads towards the car.

He stares at the grave for a few moments longer, his heart filled with an ache he can't understand. Emily wasn't his. She was Scully's daughter. This is Scully's pain. And she's over it now. She's come here at his insistence and made her peace. So why is he now the one with the hole in his heart?

The trip to her brother's house is made in silence. But for once, she doesn't feel an oppressive heaviness weighing down her heart. She's finally free. She knows she'll always love and miss Emily. And she will always regret the time that she didn't get to spend with her. But for the first time in a year, she feels . . . lighter. Hopeful even.

"Don't scowl," she teases Mulder when he pulls into the driveway. He seems to be moping and it started ever since they left the cemetery. She can only assume he's nervous about seeing her brother. "Bill won't even be here. I told Tara that I'd come by and see the baby after we finished our case."

"It's not that, Scully. I'm actually disappointed I won't be seeing Big Brother Bill. The look on his face alone would be reward enough for me coming here." He pastes a fake smile on his face at the little joke he makes. Scully can see that it's a forced smile, but decides not to call him on it. She'll talk to him later about what's gotten him into this bad mood. It obviously has nothing to do with her brother.

She gets out of the car and walks to the door, waiting for Mulder to join her on the porch before ringing the bell. The door flies open and before she can brace herself, Tara has launched herself into her arms.

"Dana," she squeals excitedly. "I'm so glad to see you. Bill's going to be so sorry he can't be here. Come on in." She stands aside, letting Mulder and Scully into the house. "Welcome, Mr. Mulder," she says with forced politeness. "I'm glad you could make it as well. Thanks for letting Dana off her leash long enough to come for a visit," she says with a nervous chuckle.

Scully flinches at the woman's comment and looks to Mulder. Normally, he'd take the comment like a joke. But she's not sure how he'll handle it today with the mood he's in.

"Well even slave drivers see the importance of family," he says back, a smile on his face that only Scully can see doesn't reach his eyes.

"Where's the baby, Tara?" Scully asks to break the tension. "He was so tiny the last time we were here."

"In the kitchen in his high chair. He was just finishing his lunch," Tara smiles. "I'll go get him."

"You okay, Mulder?" Scully asks after Tara leaves the room. "I'm sure Tara didn't mean anything with that 'leash' comment. She's just a little nervous around you. I'm sure listening to all the misconceptions my brother has about you doesn't help any."

"I'm fine," he says, using her own line against her. She realizes it's not a very reassuring sentiment and vows to stop using it to reply to Mulder’s queries about her well being. She says it when she knows she's anything but. She can see that Mulder's using it in the same context. But before she can refute it, Tara returns with the baby.

"We have company, Matthew," Tara coos to the infant. "Aunt Dana is here to see you." She places the baby into Scully's arms.

"He's so big," Scully gushes, turning the baby around on her lap so that she can look at his face. "And gorgeous. He looks great. A perfectly happy and healthy little boy."

"He is gorgeous, Tara," Mulder agrees, allowing the baby to wrap a chubby hand around his finger.

"Thank you both," Tara smiles, but then wrinkles up her nose when a scent wafts in her direction. "I think his lunch went straight through him. Let me take him and change his diaper."

"I'll come and help if you don't mind," Scully offers. She turns to Mulder to make sure he'll be okay while she's gone and spots the wistful look on his face as his eyes focus on Matthew. He'd make such a good father, she thinks to herself with a sigh. "I'll be back, Mulder, okay?"

"Have fun. And don't forget. Little boys squirt, so watch out," he says with a smile. A true smile that lights up his whole face. One that brings a smile to her own face.

"Thanks for the advice," she laughs before turning to follow Tara. His own laughter follows her up the stairs and she suddenly feels foolish for thinking he was in a bad mood. He's fine. She's fine. For the first time in a while, they're both fine. Hopefully it's the first of many. It's past time for happiness to come their way.

Mulder checks his watch one more time and wonders how long it takes to change a diaper. They've been upstairs for almost ten minutes. He walks towards the stairs to go up and check on them when the sound of the front door opening startles him. He spins around and finds himself face to face with the last person he wanted to see. Bill Scully, Jr.

"What are you doing here?" the man growls, storming over to where Mulder is standing.

"Scu- I mean Dana and I just finished a case. Tara invited her over to see the baby," Mulder explains.

"So what are *you* doing here?" Bill asks again.

"He's here because I want him here," Scully snaps. The two men look up to the top of the stairs and see Scully standing there, hands on her hips, eyes squinting. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Bill yells. "I don't want this man in my house."

"Bill," Tara admonishes, trying to calm the baby who's begun to cry at his father's outburst. "He's a guest."

"No, Tara. He's within his rights," Mulder says. "I didn't come to cause trouble. Scully you stay and visit with your family. I'll call a cab to take me back to the hotel so that you can have the car."

"Mulder, no," Scully stops him. "If you leave, I'm leaving with you," she says as a threat to Bill.

"Scully. It's okay. Really. Please stay. For the baby. Don't waste the precious time you have with him on me. Don't let yourself have any more regrets." He looks at her and can see in her eyes the moment she decides to stay. He sighs his relief and walks out to the front porch to call for the cab. A few minutes later, Bill joins him.

"Can't you see you're tearing her apart. She can't even enjoy time with her family because of you," the man spits angrily at him. "Why don't you just leave her alone."

"You don't know anything, Bill," Mulder says, trying to stay calm. "You come in here and it's all suddenly about you."

"About me?" Bill asks incredulously. "You're the one who dragged her all the way across the country during Christmas time just for a case."

"No, I'm the one who dragged her all the way across the country so that she could visit the grave of her dead daughter," Mulder says, his voice starting to rise. He realizes this and looks into the house to make sure he wasn't overheard. "Don't you even know what today is? In a few days, you're going to be celebrating the day your child was born. But a few days from now is the day she's always going to remember as the day *her* child died in her arms."

"I didn't realize," Bill says soberly. "I had forgotten."

"Yeah, well she hasn't. She's had to remember and relive it every day for the past year. Do you know what it's like to have to watch a little bit of her die everyday? To remember the smiles she used to smile. Or the way she used to laugh at my jokes. She hasn't done much of either this year," Mulder says, his empty eyes distantly watching the cars drive by on the street.

"She's been so empty," he continues, almost as if he's talking to himself. "And I couldn't do anything to change that. This little girl comes into our lives for a few short days. But it's long enough for her to make an impact. It's long enough to see her laugh at a stupid face I make. Or to gaze at me with a smile in those big blue eyes that look just like Scully's. I held her in my arms once, her little body burning with fever. Her arms wrapped tight around my neck as I carried her to the hospital. It was the one and only time I got to hold her. The one and only child of Scully's that I'll ever hold."

Bill watches in fascination as those few terrible days from last year play out in Mulder's mind. He doesn't think the man even realizes he's been talking more and more about his reactions to Emily's death than Dana's. More than likely, he's pushed all that away in deference to Dana's grief. But it's obvious to Bill that he has his own grief to work through as well. Bill can see that he loved that little girl. Probably more than he ever admitted to anyone, especially himself.

"After Emily had . . . when she was gone, Scully retreated into herself. As much as I tried to grieve with her, she wouldn't let me. She didn't need me as much as I needed her. She still doesn't."

A horn honks and both men look up to see a yellow cab in front of the house.

"That's my ride," Mulder says quietly. "Sorry for the intrusion. You're right. I should go and allow Scully this time with her family. She doesn't need me here. She doesn't need me at all. It's time for me to go."

Mulder walks off the porch without even looking back. Bill wonders briefly if he'll ever see the man again. His good-bye sounded so . . . final. And for the first time in the years Fox Mulder has been in his sister's life, he finds himself feeling sorry for the man. Because for the first time since he's known Mulder, he doesn't see him as the monster responsible for all the horrors in his sister's life. He sees him as a man just like himself. He sees him as a father.

The phone in his room just rings and rings. She tries his cell phone, but the voice mail picks up. It worries her not to be able to reach him, but she doesn't want to jump to any conclusions just yet. Maybe he's in the shower or something and can't hear the phone. When she gets to the hotel, she goes to his room first and knocks on the door. When she doesn't get an answer, she takes out her key and opens the door to her room, rushing straight over to the connecting door leading to his room. It's still unlocked. She opens it and walks into his room, taking note of it's appearance. It's looks just like it did when they left earlier that morning. Which means he hasn't been back. His stuff is still there, which means he's coming back. So where is he now?

She picks up the phone and dials his cell phone again, hoping this time he'll answer. But she isn't surprised when it goes straight to his voice mail again. He must have it turned off for some reason. Probably to avoid her. She hangs the phone up and angrily punches in another number. This time, someone answers.

"What did you say to him?" she yells into the phone.

"What are you talking about, Dana?" Bill asks, confused at her anger.

"To Mulder. I know you went out on the porch to talk to him. What did you say to him, Bill? Where did he go?"

"He's not at the hotel?"

"No, Bill. He's not here. Which means you said something to make him feel guilty and leave me," she sniffs, determined not to cry, but quickly losing the battle.

"You may be right," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I said, you may be right. He may have left you. But not because of anything I said. But because of you, Dana."

"What?" she asks again, this time with her anger rising. "Are you saying this is my fault?"

"I'm saying that you two need to talk," he sighs.

"About what?" she snaps, losing her patience with him.

"About Emily." She goes silent on the other end of the phone, but he can hear her gasp.

"What about Emily? I'm over what happened to her," she claims.

"That may be true. But is he?" Bill asks, shocking another gasp out of his sister. "Listen, Dana. Why don't you come over here? I think I know where Mulder is. I'll go get him."

She nods into the phone before she realizes through the haze that he can't see her.

"Okay," she manages to say before hanging up the phone. She sits on the bed for a while, wondering what Bill meant by his question. She's come to terms with Emily's death. Why would Bill ask about Mulder? What did he have to get over?

She stands up in shock as the answer suddenly hits her. She knows if she were a cartoon, a light bulb would be glowing brilliantly over her head. She spent the past year so consumed in her own grief. Trying to deal with it the best way she knew how. Is it possible that Mulder felt the same way? She didn't know Emily that much longer than Mulder did. He held her in his arms the same way she did. She remembers the look on his face whenever he saw the child. She didn't recognize it then, but she can see it so clearly now. The look was a look of love. He loved Emily as much as she did. So why couldn't she ever see that he was grieving much the same way that she was?

"Oh Mulder," she whispers. With his help, she was able to grieve properly for Emily. But she can see now that he never had that same chance. He was always so strong for her when what he needed was to be grieving with her. She didn't allow that then. But she will now. She had her time to grieve. Now it's his time. And she'll be there for him just the same way he was there for her.

Bill walks around the cemetery in the dark four times before he finally finds Emily's grave. He's ashamed to admit that he's never been there. He's never been to the resting place of his sister's child. As he suspected, Mulder is there, shivering in the cold.

"Mulder," he calls out, startling the man. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." He sits on the cold ground next to Mulder.

"What are you doing here, Bill?"

"Dana's worried sick about you. She thinks you left her."

"It probably would be for the best if I did. Too much has happened to her that should have never happened to her," he mumbles. His hand traces the letters on the headstone of the tiny grave, outlining Emily's name.

"No, this shouldn't have happened," Bill agrees, his eyes following the path of Mulder's fingers. "But it didn't just happen to Dana. It happened to you as well. It's nothing you could have stopped. But it still doesn't stop you from feeling helpless. Believe me. I know."

"What?"

"Tara and I tried for a long time before we finally had Matthew. All of the other pregnancies ended in miscarriage. Except for one." Silence falls between the men and as curious as Mulder is about what's going on in Bill's mind, he gives the man time to gather his thoughts. After a few long moments, he continues. "We called him Kyle. He was stillborn."

"Bill, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Thank you," Bill nods. "You know, it took me a long time to get to that point. Because for a long time, I never thought I had the right to feel the same grief Tara felt. I thought I had to be strong for her. When all the while I was dying inside. Kind of like how you felt with Emily."

"That can't compare," Mulder says, shaking his head. "Emily wasn't mine. She . . . "

"Was no more Dana's than she was yours," Bill interrupts. "Hearing you talk earlier made me realize that. You loved that child. And you love my sister. You put everything you had into trying to be strong for her, but didn't give yourself the chance to grieve with her."

"She pushed me away," Mulder whispers. Bill can hear the tears creeping into his voice. "She pushed away what she was feeling. I didn't feel I had to right to feel what I was feeling. I just wanted her hurt to go away."

"But what about your hurt, Mulder?" he asks. Mulder just shrugs, unable to answer the question. "Listen to me. You can't change what happened to Emily. But there are things you can change. You can change how you and Dana deal with the loss. You need to go to her and let her help you heal. And no matter what she says, she needs you as well."

"I don't know what to do," Mulder says. "I don't know how to help her. What if I can't?"

"Bringing her out here was a good first step. Leave the rest up to faith. I'm going to tell you what my priest told me that day Kyle died. He told me to ask God for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

"The Serenity Prayer," Mulder recognizes. "They use that in Alcoholics Anonymous."

"Yes, but I think it's useful in this situation as well. The way I see it, we both have plenty of courage to change things."

"Courage? I think in our case, they call it arrogance. We think we have the power to change everything," Mulder chuckles. Bill laughs along with him.

"You're right," Bill laughs. "I was arrogant enough to try to change how my sister feels about you. But I know better now. I see now that it's something I cannot change. You can't make someone stop loving."

"God knows I've tried," Mulder sighs. "She deserves better than me. I've hurt her so many times."

"So have I," Bill says. "But that's something we both can change. Because we both love her."

"And loving her is something we *can't* change," Mulder nods.

"Now you're getting it, Obi Wan Kenobi," Bill smiles. "That's when true wisdom comes."

"The wisdom in knowing the difference."

"Exactly." Bill stands up and holds his hand out to Mulder to help him up. "Let's get back. Now that we've got all this wisdom, I think it's time to put it to work. My sister will probably shoot us both if I don't bring you back soon."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Mulder smirks before turning to walk back to the car, leaving a stunned Bill still standing there.

"Oh, now this is a story I've *got* to hear," Bill says with a laugh, following Mulder to the car.

Just a day ago, he never would have thought he'd be interested in anything Fox Mulder had to say. But he can see now that Mulder is a man just like him. A father who has lost a child. Someone who loves Dana. He can't be all bad. And who knows, in time he may even grow to like him. Stranger things have happened he thinks to himself as he gets into the car. But he can't think of that right now. Right now, he has to get Mulder back to the house because of the promise he made his sister. And it's a promise he intends to keep. After that, it's up to Dana and Mulder.

Mulder looks around nervously as Bill pulls up to the house again. All he wants to do is get to Scully. It's time for them both to say things to each other that should have long ago been said.

"I thought you were taking me to the hotel?" Mulder asks.

"No need," Bill says cryptically. When he pulls into the driveway, Mulder can see why. The rental car is still parked there. Meaning Scully is still inside.

"Thank you, Bill," Mulder says quietly. "I know how much you dislike me. And how you blame me for all the trouble your family has seen. But I need her. I love her. And now, I'm going to tell her."

"Just don't hurt her," Bill warns.

"Never intentionally," Mulder vows, looking the man straight in the eye. Bill sees the promise and nods his head, accepting Mulder's word.

They get out of the car just as the front door opens, Scully stepping out into the shadows. Bill pats Mulder on the shoulder before pushing past the two of them and going inside, leaving them alone on the porch.

"I thought you were gone," she starts after a few silent moments.

"I needed to think."

"Or to grieve," she says, seeing his head drop and knowing she's right. "Mulder why didn't you tell me how you felt all this time?"

"I just wanted to take your pain away. Not add to it," he says.

"And I didn't want to bother you with this. Grieving for a child I barely knew," she adds.

"But that didn't stop us from loving her," he whispers.

"No, Mulder. It didn't." She takes a step towards him and wraps her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. "I loved her so much. But I never realized how much you did too."

"How could I not love her? She was yours, Scully."

"I wished she was yours, Mulder," she sniffs, one lone tear rolling down her cheek.

"In my heart she was, Scully. And as much as her death hurts, I wouldn't change one second of when I knew her. Because it gave me the chance to love her. As much as I love you," he adds quietly.

"What's happening with us, Mulder?" she gasps, surprised at his declaration. "Why the sudden change?"

"It's not sudden, Scully. I've loved you for almost as long as I've known you. As much as I've tried to change that fact, I finally accepted that I can't change it."

"Good," she smiles brightly at him. "Don't change it. Because I wouldn't change the fact that I've fallen in love with you, too."

Before he can say another word, she lifts up on her toes and captures his lips with her own in a perfect first kiss. But definitely not their last, she thinks to herself as her body practically melts in his arms. They reluctantly separate as the need for oxygen becomes too great.

"Wow," she gasps. "That was . . . "

"Different," he smiles.

"Different in a good way, I hope."

"A very good way," he laughs, giving her another kiss on her already swollen lips. "Why did we avoid this for so long?"

"We were afraid of changing our relationship. Change is scary, but sometimes it can be good, right?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Sometimes change is good."

Sometimes change is very good, he tells himself. He knows that there will be times he'll have to accept that there will be things he can't change. And that sometimes there will be things he'll be afraid to change, but must do so anyway. Thanks to his little talk with Bill, he now has the wisdom to know the difference between the two occasions. Change in either form is inevitable, but not necessarily a bad thing he now realizes. Not all changes are bad. Maybe true wisdom comes from understanding that as well.

The end.

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