Child Of Mine
by Ally

Author's notes - This is a companion piece to Pamala's 'William' 
series.  If you haven't read them I would urge you to read them first.  If you 
don't,  this will make no sense to you.
Thanks to Peg for a quick edit and for showing me the error of my 
ways re: marshmallows <g>  and to Pam for being a
great friend and allowing me to play with her character. :-)

It's quiet in here, although if I listen carefully I can hear the 
sounds of my mother as she drifts around the apartment.  She's tidying or 
organizing or maybe both.  Putting at least one part of my life in order even while 
she despairs of ever really being able to make things completely right for me.

It's been such a strange day.  A complex vortex of emotion and hope.  Combined
with my recent trip to the hospital it has left me exhausted.  I hope I'm not 
going to be the kind of woman who is constantly drained throughout 
her pregnancy. I want to be described as glowing.  I want to appear as though this 
is the most precious and miraculous thing that has ever happened in my life.  
Which, of course, it is.

I'm not sure I fully appreciated it before today.  I've been so 
wrapped up in thoughts of Mulder that to be honest, the notion of a tiny life 
growing inside me has been almost secondary.  Not that I haven't thought about the 
baby.  But every time I have allowed myself to imagine the things to come, the
anticipation has been overshadowed by the pain of knowing that he 
isn't here, that he isn't here sharing this with me.  

But today, everything changed.  Today I met my son.  And by meeting 
him I almost lost him.  Lost him before he had even had a chance to live.
It's mind numbing in it's complexity.  To be faced with the man he is 
yet to become even while I continue to nurture him deep within my womb is 
something I am having a hard time coming to terms with.

*William*

I whisper his name.  Testing it on my lips, rolling it off my tongue 
even as  my hands steal down to gently caress the slight swell of my belly.  
Really though, I am seeking to soothe the tiny child within. My son. Mulder's son.

Our child that was conceived as a result of the passion we share.  A 
passion that had grown and grown finally to be realized for so short a time 
before it was taken from us.  It still causes me to catch my breath every 
time I think of him. Is he alone?  Hurting?  Is he even aware that he is 
missing from my life?  I can't answer my own questions.  I have nothing
 to go on, no way of knowing.  I have tried and tried to recall my own 
experiences but I just can't seem to focus.  I never have been able to. 
Just vague recollections of a bright white light.  Of an indefinable sense 
of fear.  Of pain that faded in to nothingness.

Maybe it's for the best and I find myself praying that when Mulder is
returned, he too will have nothing but jumbled memories of what they 
did to him.

I have spent the last week frantically searching for him.  Both mentally and
physically I have travelled roads that have yielded nothing more than 
a series of frustrating dead ends. Wherever he is, I am slowly coming
 to terms with the fact that he is out of my reach.  At least for the moment.

But he will return.  I believe now where I didn't before.

My son's visit has changed so much for me. Mulder would laugh if he
could see me now.  I can see his delighted smile inside my head as
crystal clear as if he were sitting on the bed beside me.  He
would no doubt gently tease me.  Raise his eyebrows in answer to my 
new found acceptance, not only of what has gone before but also of what is to 
come. But beneath the quiet humour I know that, like me, he would believe.

He would believe that, inexplicable as it might sound, my adult son 
was sent to me.  Sent like an angel to allay my fears, to soothe away my deepest
nightmares.

He stood before my obvious skepticism, imploring me using his 
father's words, his mannerisms, to believe he was who he professed to be.  
William Alan Mulder.

My son.

And I believed. I still believe.

Because I was able to look deep in to his soul and see so much of 
Mulder in him.  He gave me hope that Mulder will eventually be returned.  That 
we will watch this child grow.  Watch him as he sleeps.  Kiss away his 
childhood nightmares.  Chase away the demons that plague his innocence.  
Capture his first smile, record his first words, his shaky baby steps.
We will watch our child grow.

I also know that I will never see him take those final steps from boy 
to man.  I saw the pain in my son's eyes as he spoke of his memories of me.  I 
know now that I will be taken from him when he is still too young to 
understand the reasons but able to appreciate the pain that it will bring.

I should feel sorrow that my life will not prosper in to old age.  
That I will never hold his children in my arms.  But I find myself unable.  
Because I am being offered the most precious gift.  
Mulder's child. It's a gift that I would trade a thousand lifetimes for.  I will 
cherish every moment I spend with them both, because when I looked in to William's 
eyes  today I saw nothing in them but a deep abiding love for the mother he 
remembered.

It is all the reward I need.

A soft knock on the bedroom door rouses me from my musings and I 
smile as my mother enters the room. In her hand she is carrying two 
mugs of hot chocolate.  I know  without asking that she will have added
tiny marshmallows to the liquid.  She knows me well.  Better than I give 
her credit for, I think.

I had Frohike call her earlier, appreciating his obvious concern for 
me, but needing my own space to process all that I had seen today.
He had refused to leave me alone so we had compromised.  
Mom had arrived within thirty minutes.  By her expression it was 
clear that she was more concerned by what she *hadn't* been told rather than 
Frohike's vague mumbling that I was feeling a little under the weather and would 
appreciate some nurturing.

But, she hadn't pushed.  Instead she had kept her own counsel as she 
ushered  me in to bed, wrapping me tightly in a quilt that was way too warm for 
the season.  Sitting on the bed next to me like she used to when I was a little 
girl, she had gently stoked my hair away from my face.  When it became clear 
that I had no intention of voicing what was playing so heavily on my mind, she 
had smiled gently at me, planted a kiss on my brow and left me to my thoughts.

She doesn't know, you see.  I haven't yet found the right words to 
tell her she is to become a grandmother for the fourth time.  Maybe a part of it 
is that I wanted Mulder to be the first to know.  I wanted to cup his face in 
my hands and watch his beautiful eyes as I gave him the news that we could 
never have imagined.  The news that despite the odds stacked against us we had 
once  again, somehow prevailed. I wanted so badly to have him beside
 me when I told my mother.  To see her reaction to the man she treats
 as an extension of her family.  The loving mother he never had.

But after today I need to share this with her.  Knowing that she is to become
such a fundamental part of my unborn son's life makes giving her this 
news all the more precious to me. She will be there when Mulder and I 
have disappeared from William's life.  She will become his guiding light 
as she has always been mine. And at this moment, watching her as she 
settles herself beside me I love her more than I ever have before.

I can't help but smile as she hands me the mug of chocolate.  
Wrapping her hands around her own drink in an effort to keep from once again 
stealing up to tidy my hair. She never could bear to see it out of place. 
She fought a losing battle all the way through my childhood as I drifted 
after Bill like a shadow.  Determined as I was to be exactly like him, 
mere trifles like hair ribbons and brushes were soon cast aside.

"You okay sweetie?"

Her voice when it comes is soft.  Deceptively casual, she attempts
unsuccessfully to mask the underlying concern that she feels at being 
summoned here to take care of me.

But this time her concern is misplaced.  With my free hand I reach 
across and place it over the both of hers, feeling the warmth of the mug beneath 
them.

Closing my eyes briefly, I send up a silent prayer that I am doing 
the right thing.  That I'm not, in some unfathomable way, letting Mulder down 
by sharing this precious news with her. I see his face behind my eyes though
Smiling that gentle smile he  reserves only for me.  It is all the prompting
I need before taking a deep breath.

"I'm fine Mom.  But there's something I need to tell you.  Someone I 
want you to meet.  His name is William."

END

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