Reclamation (PG-13) Part Nine
by phantagrae

Feedback: phantagrae@earthlink.net 
Rating/Pairing: PG-13, M&S (w/William)

Summary: In the fall of 2012, William Van de Kamp shows up on
Mulder and Scully's doorstep. As they learn about the
circumstances that brought him to them, they must learn to be a
family together while also protecting William from the conspiracy
that still seeks to use him for their own purposes.

Archive: Not to Gossamer.  I'll submit directly there.  Yes to
anywhere else.  Just let me know, please.

Warnings: Mild violence/violent imagery, mild bad language,
William-centric (not baby-fic); Post-IWTB, mytharc-ish.

Author's Notes: Written for XF Big Bang 2010.  Thanks to all who
helped me--my sister, my great beta, Anubis (whose knowledge
of guns and ammo came in very handy!) and my great artist,
Fidella! 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Social Security Administration Building
Richmond, VA

Curtis was back at this desk, a small bandage on his upper arm. 
He had indeed beaten the crowd and gotten his shot in quick order. 
But now he felt a little strange.  He'd felt a little feverish when he
first got back to his desk, which he figured was a reaction to the
vaccine, but now he was feeling worse and worse as the morning
went on.  He had taken some Advil to try to take the fever down,
but it didn't seem to be working.

He was frustrated that the flu vaccine was going to end up making
him sick, but he had to admit he needed to go home.  He made a
couple of phone calls and sent some emails, cancelling the meetings
he had called and excusing himself from the others.

At last he went to see his supervisor.

"Al, I'm heading home for the day.  I'm not feeling well."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Curtis.  Do you think you'll be in
tomorrow?  We have that conference call scheduled for tomorrow
morning."

"I'm sure I'll be back.  I got the flu shot this morning and I think
I'm just having a reaction to it.  I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow after
I get some rest."

"Go ahead and go home.  Feel better, my friend."

"I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure."

Curtis headed for the elevators feeling worse than he had just half
an hour before.  He just wanted to get home and crawl into bed.


Outside of Richmond

Mulder sat on William's bed and gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy," he said as William rolled over and took a deep
breath.

William blinked up at him and yawned, stretching his body and
scrubbing at his eyes.

"You ready for some lunch?  Your mom has some sandwiches
made and if you play your cards right I bet she'll let you have a
soda."  He smiled warmly at his sleepy son.  "Go ahead and get
dressed and wash up, okay?"  He stood and turned the covers
back.

William nodded and swung his feet over the side of the bed, taking
a moment to tuck his dog back under his pillow.

William walked into the kitchen and Scully's breath caught in her
throat.  He looked like a miniature version of Mulder.  Warm
brown hair, dark blue Henley, jeans and sneakers--how many
times had Scully seen Mulder dressed the same way?  William's
face looked so much like the pictures of Mulder as a boy, it was
like peeking into Mulder's childhood.

William caught her staring at him and he stopped and questioned
her with his eyes, making her smile even wider.

"What?" he asked, looking down to make sure his fly was zipped.

"You look just like your father," Scully said, reaching out to smooth
his hair.  "Come and sit down."

Mulder joined them at the table a few minutes later, wearing a
moss-green Henley and jeans, wondering why Scully was smiling to
herself.

As they began to eat, Mulder looked pointedly at Scully, then
turned to William.

"Son, you and I have something we need to do this afternoon."

"Oh?" William looked at him, then noticed the way his mother was
pressing her lips together.  "What is it?"

Mulder cleared his throat and wiped his mouth.

"I'm going to teach you how to shoot a gun."

"A gun?" William squeaked.  "A real gun?"

"Yes, a real gun," Scully said tightly.  She softened her tone and
looked at William.  "It's very important that you pay attention and
follow all of Mulder's instructions carefully, especially about how to
safely handle a weapon."

"Yes, ma'am."  William nodded somberly, considering her serious
tone.

"Have you ever handled any kind of weapon before, Will?" Mulder
asked him.

"My father let me shoot his rifle once, and one of my friends had a
BB-gun that I shot a few times."

Mulder nodded.  He'd wondered if William had learned to hunt or
fire a rifle, growing up in Wyoming.

"There are some important rules we need to go over before you
even look at a weapon, and I need you to really understand and
remember them at all times."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to ask you to repeat them to me as I explain them to
you, and then when we get outside I'm going to ask you again."

"Yes, sir."

"First--all guns are always loaded.  No 'ifs' or 'maybes', and you
don't take anyone else's word for it.  You always assume that any
gun is loaded.  No exceptions.  Period.  Do you understand,
William?"

"Yes, sir," William answered.  He repeated the rule back to
Mulder, explaining his understanding of it as Mulder questioned
him.

"Second," Mulder continued, "never--and I mean NEVER --
point the muzzle of the gun at anything you don't intend to destroy,
including any part of your body.  What's the second rule, William?"

"Never point it at anything you don't intend to destroy," William
repeated.

"Because..."

"Because every gun is always loaded."

"Very good.  Third--keep your finger OFF the trigger until your
sights are on the target.  NEVER stand or walk around with your
finger on the trigger.  Repeat the third rule to me, William."

The boy repeated it soberly.

"And finally, be absolutely certain of your target, William, because
you do NOT want to accidentally shoot the wrong person.  This is
not a game and it's not the movies.  Do you understand me, son?"

William's mouth went dry at the mention of shooting a person, but
he dutifully repeated the rule back to his father.

Scully had sat silently during the lesson, sipping her tea and willing
herself not to interfere.  Yet, as much as she disliked the idea, she
knew Mulder was right and she was glad he was being so serious
and cautious in his approach.  The last thing either of them wanted
was to glamorize or trivialize the use of gun.

"You're doing very well, honey," she said, rising from the table and
picking up their dishes.  "I've got more work to do downstairs. 
Please, both of you, please be careful."

"I will, mom," William said.  "I promise."

Mulder stood to kiss her lightly.  "We'll be careful."

Mulder led William into his office to a locked cabinet in the corner.

"William, you are never to touch this cabinet unless your mother or
I tell you to, do you understand?"  Mulder looked at William and
waited for his answer.

"Yes, sir," William answered obediently.  "We had a locked
cabinet for my dad's hunting rifles back home.  I wasn't allowed to
touch it.  I know the rule."

"Good," Mulder said, turning his attention back to the small key he
turned in the lock.  He carefully chose a gun, a couple of boxes of
ammunition, and an ammunition clip and locked the cabinet again. 
"Let's go outside and I'll show you how to load the clip."

Mulder took the small pistol from the holster on his belt, gave it a
quick once-over and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he
turned his gaze to William's small form.  He couldn't believe what
he was about to do.

The boy looked about as scared as Mulder felt, with his blue eyes
wide and staring, focused on the weapon.  Though he and his
adoptive father had talked about maybe getting him his own rifle
this Christmas, he'd never held a handgun.  Rifles were for hunting
animals.  Handguns were only used for one thing.

"Okay," Mulder finally began.  "Safety first.  Tell me the rules."

"Yes, sir," William gulped, both eager and afraid to touch the gun. 
He dutifully repeated the four rules he had just learned.

"You keep it pointed at the ground until you're ready to aim, finger
away from the trigger, and keep the safety on until you're ready to
fire."  Mulder waited until the boy looked him in the eye.  "Got
that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, this is the smallest weapon we have here at the house.  It's a
.22 caliber, but it's still going to be a little big for your hands." 
Mulder moved to stand behind his son, wrapping his arms around
William's as he put the gun in the boy's hands.

"You're going to hold it with both hands anyway," he directed,
pressing the boys hands in the proper position, one gripping the
pistol, the other bracing it underneath.  "Spread your feet about
shoulder width apart to give you a better stance and more upper
body stability.  And now, we're going to take the safety off...right
here.  Did you see how I did that?"

William nodded quickly, putting the safety back on, then taking it
off again.

"Good.  Now I want you to just dry-fire it a few times.  I took the
clip out, but..."

"Always assume it's loaded," William said automatically.

"Okay, go ahead and squeeze the trigger, nice and smooth. 
Practice your aim, feel the weight of it."

William practiced squeezing the trigger, tensing up as he felt it move
beneath his finger, expecting a shot, even though the gun was
empty.  He'd already learned the first lesson.

"Got the feel of it?"

"Yeah," William said breathlessly.

"Okay, here we go."  Mulder took the gun from William and
showed him once again how to reload, then let William remove the
clip and load the weapon on his own.  "Now you know for sure
that it's loaded, so we're going to make sure the safety is on until
we're ready.  Get back in position."

Mulder had to bend down to get his head at William's eye-level,
even though the boy was tall for his age.  He helped him aim at the
cans and bottles they had lined up along the old stone wall at the far
edge of their property.

"Okay, take the safety off and now we're going to aim--since
you're right-handed, look down the sight on the end of the barrel
with your right eye and close your left eye.  Center it on your target,
and when you're ready, hold your breath, and then just squeeze the
trigger, nice and smooth."

William stood with his feet braced as Mulder had said; his arms
stretched forward, the gun heavy in his hands even with Mulder's
support.

 "I'm ready," he said, taking a long, slow breath, carefully sighting
the target the way Mulder had explained.

He squeezed his forefinger for what seemed like forever.  Just when
he had begun to think that he'd forgotten to take the safety off, the
gun went off with a bang, knocking him back a little, against
Mulder's firm strength.  Mulder's grip over his own kept the pistol
from recoiling too much in his hands, but William knew it would
have been hard for him to control it by himself.  It was a lot
stronger than he'd expected it to be.

None of the targets were disturbed.

"I missed," William said, taking a moment to wipe first one sweaty
palm, then the other, on his jeans, pointing the gun toward the
ground as he did so.

"Most people miss the first time," Mulder said kindly.  "Sometimes
quite a few times.  How did it feel?"

"It has a kick," William admitted.

"Yeah, but not a bad one.  You'll get used to it."  Mulder stepped
back and watched William resume the stance he had shown him.

William hesitated, then lowered the gun and turned toward Mulder.

"Do you really think I'll have to use this?"

Mulder considered for a moment.  There was no use in being
anything but honest.  The boy had already witnessed a horrific
example of what they were up against.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," he began, "but I think you know
something about what's at stake.  Whatever happens, I don't want
you to be helpless.  And if it comes to that, I don't want you to be
afraid to do what you have to do."

William's mouth went dry.  He saw again the view of his home in
Wyoming, his adoptive parents lying dead.  He met Mulder's
steady gaze, then turned and raised the gun again.  Bracing his
whole body, he took careful aim, took a deep breath and squeezed
the trigger, sending a can flying off the fence.

Scully heard the back door creak as the boys came in.  She smiled
as she caught herself already thinking of them that way.  That was
how her mom had often referred to her dad and brothers whenever
they were out doing something together--playing football, getting
the grill going, watching the Superbowl.

Her boys were hanging up their jackets and coming into the kitchen
and she knew they'd be hungry.  She was already working on
stir-frying meat and vegetables in a wok.

As they approached she could smell the gunpowder on them and
she felt her smile fade a little.

"Hi, honey, we're home!" Mulder teased, coming up behind Scully
to kiss her cheek.  "Mmm  What's for supper?"

"Nothing, until you two get washed up," she answered, willing her
smile back into place.  She returned Mulder's kiss and paused to
cup William's cheek.

"It smells good, Mom," William said.

Scully felt her heart flutter a little at how normal and natural his
words sounded.  She had to fight back a tear as she smiled at him. 
"Go wash up, honey."

"It does smell good, *Mom,*" Mulder whispered in her ear, after
William had left for the bathroom.  He wrapped his arms around
her and gave her a squeeze, knowing what it meant to hear the boy
call her that.

They stood that way for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts
and feelings, each marveling at what they had missed out on in the
past eleven years, as well as what they had just regained.

 
Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital
Richmond, VA

Amy Clendenin hurried through the emergency entrance of the small
hospital, searching for a nurse or orderly.

"Please, someone help me!" she said, hurrying toward the nurse at
the reception desk.  "It's my husband--he's very sick!"

"Where is he?" the nurse began.

"In the car," Amy said.  "He passed out on the way here and I
can't wake him up."  She fought her growing panic.  "There's
something wrong with his eyes..."

Soon they had her husband on a gurney and had rolled him into a
treatment area.  His temperature was very high and he was
unresponsive.  She had been pushed aside by the medical team, but
she heard the doctor speak to one of the nurses.

"I've never seen anything like this.  His eyes are completely black."

 
Outside of Richmond

After dinner, William wandered into Mulder's office, not sure if he
was allowed in uninvited, but too curious to stay out.  He'd only
glanced at the pinned up articles before, but this time he stood and
read through the shorter ones.  He noticed that there were more
clippings tacked up on the back of the door, so he pushed it partly
closed, only to find himself looking into the eyes of a dark-haired
girl only a few years younger than himself.

"Samantha," he said aloud, reaching out to touch her image.  He
could see the resemblance to Mulder and wondered what she had
been like.  She looked bright and sweet and he thought about some
of the girls he'd known at school.

He didn't have any siblings, but he knew boys his age who had little
sisters that they both despised and loved.  He'd seen his friend
Jackson beat up another boy for teasing the little sister he
constantly complained about.  Mulder said he had been about the
same age as William was now when Samantha had gone missing. 
Suddenly, he had to turn away from her smiling face.

He walked over to Mulder's desk and helped himself to a couple
of sunflower seeds from the heaping bowl that stood there.  An
iPod sat in the middle of a cleared space, the earphones wrapped
neatly around it.

"Hi, there."

William startled at Mulder's voice from the doorway.

"Um...sorry," William began.  "I didn't mean to be nosy.  I was just
curious..."

"That's okay," Mulder answered.  "I was just wondering where
you'd gotten to."

William shrugged.  "I didn't feel like watching TV."

Mulder pointed at the iPod.  "Is that like the one you had?"

"I think so," William answered.  "Is it yours?"

Mulder nodded and stepped up to unwind the earphone cord from
the device.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" William asked, finding it
impossible to imagine.  His adoptive parents had listened to a lot of
country music and Christian music, but he was sure Mulder's tastes
were different.

"Oh, probably a lot of stuff you're too young to have ever heard
of," Mulder replied with a chuckle.  "I'm an old fogey, remember?" 
He smiled at William and handed the iPod to him.  "Want to check
it out?"

"Sure."  William took it, donned the earphones, and turned the
device on.  He listened for a moment, a bemused smile on his face.

"Is that something by the Beatles?" he asked.  "Two of us, riding
nowhere..." he sang shyly.

"Yeah," Mulder said, his grin growing wide.  "Do you know it?"

William shrugged.  "I've heard it before."  He turned his attention
back to the player and clicked through a few more songs, listening
briefly before moving on to the next one.

Mulder couldn't tell from his face whether or not he recognized or
liked any of the other songs he'd uploaded.  At last the boy turned
it off and looked up at him.

"What do you think?"  Mulder found himself embarrassingly
worried that his son would think he was completely uncool.

"I don't think I know the rest of the songs, but they're not bad,"
William answered.  He pulled the earphones out of his ears and
handed the player back to Mulder.  "Thanks," he said politely.

"Keep it," Mulder said, closing William's hand around it.  "Later on
we'll upload some new songs for you."

"Really?"  William looked down at it for a moment, feeling silly
about the tears that threatened to spring up in his eyes.

"Well, I figured you'd be missing the one you gave away," Mulder
said gently.

William looked back up at Mulder and smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."


Continued in Part Ten