Title: TINH...Glory, Glory (1/1) SP

Rating: G

Spoilers: WARNING! UNAIRED episode speculation

Feedback: Yes please...

Classification: V, MSR, Angst, CD

Archive: Sure go right ahead.

Disclaimer: If I owned them I wouldn't be rewriting 7 years of character

traits like some people seem intent on doing. Or fitting gimmicks into S7.

Summary: This is a follow-up to a story I posted earlier. I suppose some

would consider it songfic, I don't, but you may. It's time for Mulder to be

laid to rest...

TINH...Glory, Glory (1/1)

Walter Skinner didn't hesitate. After helping her into his car, he drove in the one direction that Scully would not have allowed herself to ask for. He drove to Mulder's apartment. He wanted to offer her some comfort, but he felt he'd be rebuked. Or at least he was unsure of how his offer would be perceived, whether it would be accepted. He chose not to try and offer anything physical, but he knew she needed to be close to Mulder.

At least in some form, some place with memories.

Pulling up to the curb, he stopped and turned to her, "Agent Scully? I thought you'd like too..."

She looked up at the building and nodded, "Thank you, sir." She replied as she exited the car, she didn't look back and Skinner drove away.

She didn't turn on any lights, the street lamps outside lit the room and allowed the shadows to live, to move and breathe. The apartment smelled a little musty, she hadn't been able to clean it recently, like she had been doing since Mulder's disappearance. The pregnancy was beginning to drain her, mentally and physically. She was finally noticing changes in her body, not big ones of course, not yet. But enough that she began making mental list of what she ate and the hours she now slept.

She walked into the bedroom.

The one room she didn't want to change. Scully hadn't made the bed after sleeping in it several nights, clutching a shirt, wearing a pair of his boxers, once she even brought his basketball with her...anything to feel close to him. Anything to not feel lost without him.

Trying desperately not to lose hope.

At work she focused, shoved all thoughts of Mulder and the baby aside, concentrated on the cases. It was only when she wasn't at work she allowed herself to feel Mulder's lose. Just a little though or she felt she'd be consumed by her grief.

She found herself near the nightstand, fingers running over the buttons of his clock radio. Pressing a little to hard, music fills the room...Elvis. The strains of music flow around her and she sinks to the bed. Mulder's shirt held tightly to her chest, she curls into a fetal position and begins to sob.

By the end of the song she has fallen into a fitful sleep.

* * * * *

The room is black. No the room is the night sky.

Scully steps on stars, like a sparkling staircase she follows the sound of

music, familiar and soft...up and up. She realizes it's Elvis, it's the song she heard before falling asleep. She didn't process the lyrics, but the hears them...feels them now.

It's Mulder, standing in profile, beside a cradle and asleep on his shoulder is a tiny baby.

"Mulder," she gasps.

He turns slightly his eyes holding hers, his finger presses to his own lips in the sign for be quiet.

Scully glances down at her body, round and full with child. She feels slightly dizzy as the words, the song become clearer.

'So hush...little baby

Don't you cry'

Scully is mesmerized by the circling motion of Mulder's hand on the baby's back.

'You know your daddy's...bound to die

But all my trials...will soon be over'

He's bending over now, placing the baby gently into the cradle it begins to rock, swaying back and forth. Mulder looks at Scully, his eyes are tired and sad.

'Glory, glory hallelujah'

'Glory, glory hallelujah'

He moves to her, caresses her stomach and tilts her head up for a kiss that makes everything spin with the force of his love.

'Glory, glory hallelujah'

And then he's walking away into the stars, disappearing into the depths of space as the final words ring out.

'His truth is marching on'

Scully feels herself falling, the stars winking out as she drops through them. She closes her eyes and waits to hit the ground.

* * * * *

It's a cold and blustery day. The day Fox Mulder was buried. There were few people in attendance and only a handful of those cared about the man being laid to rest. Kersh, Skinner, Doggett, Frohike, Byers and Langley stood around the casket. The only blood relationship to be there has yet to be born.

Scully stood like the proverbial widow accepting condolences and hollow praise. She felt like screaming at them all, "Don't say it if you don't mean it." She didn't bother, it would be useless.

John Doggett didn't know Mulder, not really and he doesn't really know Scully, but he could tell by instinct alone how much Mulder had meant to Scully. He hoped Scully had meant the same to him.

Skinner and Mulder's three computer friends had bristled when Doggett handed an envelope to Scully.

"Agent Scully...I...it's been a tradition in my family for generations to keep a part of a loved one. I thought maybe you'd like that tradition..."

Scully reached in and pulled out several locks of hair tied with a white ribbon. Brown hair, soft, she let it slide through her fingers a few tears traced their way down her cheeks.

John Doggett turned to walk away, but Scully grasped his hand, giving him one firm squeeze. "Thank you," she whispered. He nodded and walked away as Scully slipped Mulder's hairback into the envelope and tucked in her coat pocket.

Scully started a journal for her unborn child that very night. The first keepsake was soft brown hair tied with a white bow, followed by her own red tresses tied with black. A small part of both his or her parents to touch and cherish in the future.

That was really all she had.

The end...