Two little lines on a pregnancy test. Morning sickness. It was all very familiar despite its impossibility.

Mulder leaving yet again. "Just come back alive."

"I need to tell you something...it's about your son. About who his father is."

The sound of Scully's heartbeat reverberated loudly in her ears. No.

She couldn't will herself to speak.

"The smoking man..." the voice faded out.

No. He was killed in New Mexico...the bombing. There was no way he could have survived.

Running, lots of it. An old factory. Gunshots, several of them.

"I'm asking you to let him go."

A car crash.

"He knows that you love him."

William.

More running. More Gunshots.

"He's gone, Scully."

No.

"He shot him...he shot me."

Her body went cold.

It was all too familiar. Mulder was losing himself again.

A downward spiral.

"William...William was an experiment, Mulder. I was never a mother to him...he wasn't-"

A deafening silence.

"What am I now if I'm not a father?"

"You are a father."

She brought his hand to the small swell of her abdomen. To explain the unexplainable.

Sobbing.

"That's impossible."

"I know...it's more than impossible."

Suddenly she felt herself drowning...searching. "William!"

"Scully!" Mulder's terrified cry was muffled.

Her chest became heavy with the need for oxygen.

Another thought struck her. The baby. Their baby.

She flailed her arms and legs in an attempt to reach the surface to no avail. NO!