Dana Katherine Scully (
faithfulskeptic) wrote in
what_wings_dare2022-09-09 06:57 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
🅧 Please explain to me the scientific nature of 'the whammy'

[ n a m e ; ] | Dana Katherine Scully |
[ c a n o n ; ] | The X-Files |
[ g a m e ; ] | spicy times in ![]() |
{ ACTION / NETWORK / VOICE / WHATEVER WELCOME }
no subject
But Mulder isn't wrong; it'll be harder to deal with, on her own, if he's not a good sleeper. She doesn't really care-- no matter what, she'll love him, she'll manage-- but it's strange to imagine single motherhood in this latest set of changed circumstances. When he's close, but kept at arm's length.
"Tomorrow," she hazards, "you can come see the sonograms. If you want. I have them at home."
no subject
Maybe his absence at night, his inability to walk through her door and stay, won't make that big a difference.
"I'd like that." He's cautiously hopeful. All of those ultrasounds look the same, as far as he can tell - it's a scratchy shape in the darkness, vaguely baby-shaped - but maybe this one will be different. Knowing it's the first snapshot of someone who belongs to them, the only other person alive who shares any meaningful DNA with him...that seems like it'll matter. The longer he thinks about William, about what he could be to them both, the more consequential everything seems. "You can give me a baby anatomy lesson. The last time I saw one of those things, I wasn't sure which way was up."
no subject
But there's time-- plenty of time- in the future for worrying, and they've got more than their share of challenges. She's got no interest in that right now: not when she has so many beautiful, wonderful things to share with him.
"The earlier ones can be hard to tell. Now-- he looks like a little person. Fingers and toes and everything," she says, unable to keep the joy out of her voice as she absently sets a hand on the swell of her belly. It's not as if she's lacked support, or worried about taking care of William on her own-- but it's different, to have Mulder back. No one else in the world could have his perspective.
no subject
And beyond this part, the visual, there's so much more to know. "What's it like? Having him in there?"
no subject
"It's... strange. For the longest time it felt almost theoretical-- knowing he was there but being unable to feel it, or see much change. When he got big enough to move around..." She frowns faintly, looking for words; but there's just nothing that does it justice.
"At first it was-- startling. It's hard not to feel like there's something wrong when it's sudden, but. After a while-- he made me feel less alone."
no subject
William moves under their hands, shifting like he's trying to figure out how to get comfortable, and Mulder can't help but feel a swell of pride. The longer they're here, the more he sits with the idea of fatherhood, the more it feels like it could be a part of his life. For the first time since his return, he feels something like hope.
"Not so theoretical now," he murmurs, his gaze still on their hands. "And not so alone. What's his middle name?"
no subject
William shifts and settles, and she feels her eyes well up again-- happy tears she doesn't shed, just a product of the overwhelming sense of being home, here in Mulder's arms.
"I hadn't decided," she admits. "Couldn't exactly call him William William to honor both sides of his heritage."
no subject
William William Scully, though, might be a little much. William William Mulder Scully? It couldn't be on the birth certificate, he assumes, but it'll be there.
no subject
"But-- now that you're back..." she bites her lip, a smile in her voice. She's so grateful she could burst. "We can decide on something together."
no subject
Like something that would ever be relevant to their lives, after their first effort.
"Probable," he finishes. One more reason to wonder at the flesh beneath his hand, the fact that there's another life, another consciousness in there. "A girl would be easy, but a boy? Huh."
no subject
At the time it hadn't felt possible to ask Mulder how he felt about it-- what he'd wanted from it. The way he's warming to the idea now makes her think, one way or another, they'd have figured it out.
"We have a little time to think on it." Not... that much, in the long run, but still. She's certainly ruminated on it-- trying to decide who else they might want to honor, coming up with nothing but restless uncertainty.
no subject
Maybe this is how it was supposed to be, in the end. Letting go of the possibility made it happen.
"If we can't come up with anything else, we'll call him William Bernard," he says, as though this is the obvious choice, some elephant in the room they've both simply been ignoring.
no subject
She's quiet a moment, trying to figure out where he's gone with that.
"Bernard?"
no subject
no subject
The scolding is not particularly convincing because she's laughing, swatting lightly at his arm.
"I guess it's better than Melvin."
no subject
no subject
"We couldn't do that. And going for three middle names is too much." Worse than William William.
no subject
Absolutely not, and they both know it. But it does bring up the problem of the fact that there isn't really anyone else in his life worth naming a kid after. At that point, they're back to what sounds good, and Mulder's not really sure. Something boring, he guesses - Frank or George or Bill or Tom, anything but Sue.
no subject
"I thought about William Fox." It's a slightly uneasy admission. William after him is subtle, Fox would have left no doubt. With him gone, there might have been plausible deniability-- she could've just been honoring a close friend, her lost partner. But now-- well, it feels obvious.
no subject
And anyway, even as a middle name, Ringo's too much.
"William Fox," he repeats softly, thinking about it. It's not nearly as bad as Fox William, that's for sure, and there'd be no mixing the two of them up. But putting Fox anywhere in there is going to make everyone's ears prick up. William was her father's name, and it's a hell of a lot less embarrassing than sticking the kid with Ahab; there's a reason to use it that has nothing to do with him.
Which, he has to admit, gives new shine to the possibility of getting the middle name to himself. It's a bad idea, not least because he doesn't even like his name, but it's an irrefutable connection to him. He shouldn't want that. He can't put Scully's career in jeopardy that way. "We'd have to give up the game if we did that."
no subject
"It's a little obvious." Which-- though it could cause problems-- is part of what she liked about it, before. Plausibly a tribute, but almost explicitly a statement of what they'd shared. Her only real worry was that it meant she was putting too much of her grief on their son.
Now, there's no question of grief; but there's no reason she'd need to commemorate him.
"Reynard?" she suggests, tone teasing, thinking of various cover identities and pseudonyms through the years.
no subject
Dana Carvey's still relevant, they could still get away with it. No need to put Mulder into the name at all.
no subject
"We'll have to keep looking. We could get a name book to look through."
no subject
no subject
(None of the other people who've helped her-- Skinner, of course, and John, much as Mulder doesn't want to hear that-- feel quite right. She's sure they'd be touched, but it would be awkward.)
"We'll need something unimportant to argue about, after all."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)