"I shouldn't have had to track down an overgrown liver fluke, either," he points out wryly, his hand coming to rest once again on her belly. William's in there, but he seems to have settled for the moment. This late in the game, it's possible to feel him pressing up against Scully's flesh, even when he's not kicking and shifting around inside her; briefly, mournfully, he wonders what it was like to touch her and only wonder where the baby could be, swimming fishlike inside her. "But you may have noticed, Scully, I'm willing to do a lot to get what I want."

It's starting to feel possible, or at least like something he could live with: help Scully from afar, dote on the boy in private, wait for the chance to be truthful about their relationship. If they could just secure the world's future, prevent colonization, end the Syndicate for good - if they could, nothing else would matter.

"And what I want is you," he goes on, his gaze catching hers again. "You and - and William, and to make sure there's someplace left for him to grow up. I think we have to do it, for his sake."