"Yeah." Today's really been something, and he's not sure how to fathom it, either. Mulder's swallowing back another round of tears of his own, not out of any kind of shame, but from a vaguely shaped desire to let Scully get it all out without distraction. He rubs her back, letting her sniffle into the wet patch on his shirt, wondering how much William's felt his mother cry. Is this kind of new? Tell me this hasn't been the last six months.

Even if it has been, though, it won't be the future. Scully's not going to have reason to weep, from here on out; however close Mulder's allowed to be, he'll be. Theirs might be a lopsided little family, a secretive one, but William's going to grow up with both of them ready to do anything they have to for him. "See, this is why I only tell you I love you on special occasions."