It hadn't been a small service, though the size of the church made it seem so. Mostly co-workers, colleagues, fellow law-enforcement types. No family. Very few friends. It pained Scully to think that this is what Fox Mulder's life had boiled down to: an unceremonious death, and a funeral packed with acquaintances and the curious. Many of the faces in the crowd she recognized from the Bureau. Many of those she recognized as people who didn't think much of Mulder or his work. Their words lacked any sense of honesty or sincerity and she wanted to slap the next person who came up to her, took her hand and said "I'm so sorry, Dana". Instead, she smiled weakly and muttered a "thank you".

The last few days had blurred by. Arrangements had to be made and, while AD Skinner and Agent Doggett offered their assistance, she instead took it upon herself. The announcements, the flowers, which suit he would wear, the visitation, the service, the burial... In death it seemed there was more work than in life. Soon it would be over and lives would move forward. Rather, most lives would move forward. She failed to see how she could continue along the same path she'd been on all this time. It didn't seem right. When Mulder was missing, she had had the hope of his return. Now even that was taken from her.

She thought long and hard about what she would do. She had a child to consider... her child... their child. How could she return to work... to the X-Files, risking her life in the name of a futile quest? But it was a quest that meant everything to Mulder and it was the quest that eventually took his life. She was committed to finding the truth just as Mulder was but she had already suffered so much loss. Her initial reaction was to quit, settle down and raise her child as a doctor in some small, out of the way town where the only worry would be what to wear to the State Fair on Saturday... no talk of alien invasion... no autopsies to perform... no weapon to strap to her back every morning. But to do so would mean ignoring all that she had become. She was an investigative agent in the FBI. There was no changing that. She had given up a medical practice to work for the Bureau and, as much as she disliked watching her partner suffer or being shot at or being kidnapped (Mulder would say abducted... but "po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes"), she liked her job. It felt as though there was no other place for her.

Eventually, she had come to the conclusion to put off her decision. She had too much on her mind to influence what she was feeling and thinking. So she would continue as well as she could and make up her mind later. She told herself that was what was best... it wasn't denial... it wasn't throwing herself into work to ignore the pain underneath. And so what if it was? If that's what she needed to do to get through these next few months until the baby was born, she was more than entitled.

She watched as the last few people left the church parking lot. She had thought of hosting a gathering at her place. That's what was expected but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The funeral had been hard enough without inviting uncaring strangers into her home. That was akin to inviting their pity and that was the last thing she needed. Instead, she had asked only a few people back to her apartment. Her mom, Skinner, Agents Doggett and Reyes, and, of course, the Gunmen. She could trust these people. She knew they were hurting as well as she. They had been of tremendous support during Mulder's disappearance. Agent Reyes was a special case. She and Scully had only just met but Scully had felt a connection with her... Somehow Monica reminded her of Mulder. And, of course, she had helped find Mulder.