Category: 155 words
Spoilers: not really, just some post Existence assumptions
Disclaimer: You know who owns them, and it isn't me.
I think about her constantly. I may never see her again, never see them again, and if I were a different man I might let go of the memories, to try to make another life without them. But I could no more give up on them than I could remain to see them endangered by my presence.
At night I dream of her in my arms, her breathing presence beside me, her love sustaining me.
I wake in the mornings and try to imagine her morning. She probably rose many hours before my sleepy eyes have even opened. I imagine her in the almost light of pre-dawn, holding Will in her arms as his cries abate, allayed by warmth and sustenance, becoming contentment and sleepy pleasure for them both. I see her smile down at him, and imagine her wishing that I could see this miracle she holds.
I can Scully. I see it perfectly.