A Hint of Resurrection (5/7)
by Ellie

Email:  windblownellie@yahoo.com
Rating:  R (for some adult implications, language, and crimes against animals)
X-Files/Fringe Crossover
Timeline/Spoilers: Post-IWTB/Fringe S1 (but spoilers through S3)
Summary:  Olivia Dunham examines files from the old X-files Division, and 
requests a reluctant consult from former agent Fox Mulder.



***
Chapter 5
***

Before Mulder had finished flipping through the deck of cards, Olivia dug out 
her phone.  The boy, now holding Mulder's hand and looking as surprised by his 
success as anyone, was running at a 75% rate, sometimes even correctly 
guessing the suit.  Olivia knew Walter would want to see this, and Peter might 
want to take him to Vegas to settle some gambling debts.  She was dialing 
before she left the room, leaving Scully behind to observe, seemingly 
astonished by what she was watching.
  
Mike Van De Kamp was sitting outside the door, cup of coffee in hand, and 
Olivia turned the other way, walking towards the large window overlooking the 
nearly empty parking lot behind the station.  Mentally adjusting for the time 
difference between Wyoming and Boston, she wondered whether Broyles would be 
in his morning meeting. 

Two rings, and she had her answer.  *"Broyles."*

"It's Dunham," she said, leaning against the chilly plate glass.

*"What have you found?"*

"Regarding the case, not much.  Typical radical animal liberation actor.  
Denver is more than equipped to handle the case."

*"What about the boy?"*

Her sigh fogged the glass.  "He merits further investigation, but there is a 
complication."  She waited a beat, but Broyles made no response.  "William Van 
De Kamp, Billy, we believe to be Mulder and Scully's son, given up for 
adoption in 2002."

*"We believe?  Are they not certain?"*

"I'm sending blood and DNA back for the labs to test.  I'm also sending copies 
of the medical and psych exams to the Bishops."

*"Abnormal?"*

"He shows signs of being psychologically gifted."

*"His father will want to come with him.  I'll sign off on bringing them to 
Boston.  Mulder and Scully raise no objections?"*

"They're not happy about it, but they won't object.  Did you know about this, sir?"

*"The case was passed along to me, Agent Dunham.  I'll see you back in town 
tomorrow."*  He didn't wait for a response, or a goodbye, merely hung up.  Liv 
stared down at her phone, wondering how much of the former agents' paranoia 
really was warranted, and where this manipulation was coming from.

Setting that thought aside momentarily, she turned back to the hallway, where 
Mr. Van De Kamp sat, watching her.  Though she didn't really want another cup 
of coffee, she poured one, and sat down next to him.  "The FBI would like to 
bring you and Billy to Boston next week for some followup testing.  We believe 
that he is a very special boy, and we'd like to find out exactly what's going 
on inside his head."

"What do you mean?"  Van De Kamp looked puzzled, wary for the first time.

"Based on Billy's description of what happened with the sheep last week, and 
some exams performed by Mr. Mulder, we believe he may possess some exceptional 
mental capabilities.  We have a specialist consultant in Boston who is an 
expert in these types of things.  He'll want to do some tests, nothing 
invasive, just imaging."  She hoped that was true; with Walter, you never 
could quite tell.

"I'm not sending him alone."

"Of course not, Mr. Van De Kamp.  The Bureau will pay for your transportation 
and lodgings.  We'll probably put you in one of the houses in Cambridge; our 
expert is at Harvard."  There was something reassuring in that, she knew, an 
air of respectability that didn't quite mesh with her experiences in the 
Bishop lab.

"Harvard, huh?  It'll be good for Billy to go see that, give him something to 
aspire to."

"I'll personally make sure he gets a t-shirt.  Let me go see if Mr. Mulder's 
done with his examination."

She rose, and walked to the interview room door, still closed.  Thick wood, it 
kept sound from escaping to the hallway, but had an ominous resonance when she 
knocked, then realized she'd never hear a response anyway.  Cracking the door, 
she slipped inside.

Mulder and Billy were apparently done, discussing a coming book report on "The 
Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe," which she vaguely remembered, and was 
surprised the boy was reading it already.  Mulder, on the other hand, seemed 
to think it perfectly ordinary reading material for the boy, and was making 
the case for the darker stories of Roald Dahl and "The Hobbit."  She cleared 
her throat, and he turned to look at her, surprise raising his brows.  "Are 
you gentlemen finished?"

"I've got what I need." 

"Great."  She smiled at the boy, then stepped back to open the door.  "Mr. Van 
De Kamp, you can come in now."

Van De Kamp sat at the table next to Billy, but she remained standing, holding 
the position of authority.  She knew she'd need it, with Mulder and Scully in 
the room.  Scully, no dummy about how, as a woman, to hold her own and look 
authoritative, had come in and stood behind her, lingering next to the door.  
"Billy, we'd really like you and your father to come to Boston next week for a 
few followup tests at Harvard."

"This is because I knew what the cards were."  It wasn't a question, and she 
noted the affirmation that it was knowledge, not speculation.  She wondered if 
the boy had intended it that way.

"Yes."  There was no point in lying to him.  "There's someone there who 
specializes in unusually gifted people, like you are."

"What about school?"

"We'll arrange things with your teachers here, and make sure you have some 
educational experiences while you're with us."

"No," he said, pointing up at the clock above the two-way mirror.  "I'm 
supposed to be there in five minutes."

Mike laughed, patted the boy on the back.  "It's fine, Billy.  This is a good 
excuse for being late.  You want to go to Boston?"

"Okay."

That was all it took, Olivia thought.  She wished all her investigations went 
this smoothly.  "Great.  I'll be back in Boston tomorrow, and will call you by 
the end of the week with arrangements.  Does Billy need some kind of note for 
school?"

"If we can get one for next week, yes.  This morning isn't a problem."

The Van De Kamps followed her out of the room, leaving Mulder and Scully 
behind, facing one another across the interrogation room.

*

There was a profound silence in the Grand Cherokee on the way to the airport.  
Dunham had been matter-of-fact about the whole thing, and Mulder couldn't 
blame her.  It wasn't as if she were the one pulling the strings; he knew how 
it felt to be played.  Scully had been quiet for the ride back to the hotel, 
and had then vented her frustration with the situation on their luggage.  
Experienced with her as he was, he merely packed the toiletries and played 
sounding board; he'd made his feelings clear even before that morning's 
examination of their son.

Finally, a hundred miles into the drive, he spoke up.  "Scully and I will be 
in Boston next week."

In the rearview, he saw Dunham glance at him before returning her eyes to the 
road, growing increasingly busy as they returned to civilization.  "You'll be 
on your own for that.  If you want to come to the lab and observe, you're 
welcome to, at least so far as I can invite you to a lab that's not mine."

"Whose lab is it?  I've worked with Dr. Tabari and--"

"Its not the medical center, Dr. Scully.  Dr. Bishop is emeritus faculty in 
biochemistry."

"Dr. Walter Bishop?"  He sat back against the seat, beginning to put the 
pieces together.

That look in the rearview again, as if he were the one not being completely 
honest here.  "You know him?"

"Of him.  His name came up in some old DARPA files that were passed along to 
me.  He used to do some very unusual, and very questionable research, from 
what I could gather."

"Questionable in what way?"  He wasn't sure whether Scully's question was 
addressed to him or to Dunham, but he chose to answer it.

"Genetic engineering.  He was part of a group that had some success creating 
chimeras.  He was also one of the few legitimate researchers doing any work in 
the parapsychological."

"You're asking us to allow our son to be examined by someone we know has 
worked for the government to create just what some people believe him to be?"

Mulder was shocked by the admission of such by Scully, but she'd seen the boy, 
and too much else over the years to really be astonished.  

"He's not the man he once was," began Dunham, slowly.  "He was 
institutionalized for a long time.   Now, he feels his work with the Fringe 
Division is helping to make amends for what he once did."  Mulder heard the 
doubt in her voice, the obfuscated.  He would do his own research when they 
got home.

Olivia maneuvered the SUV through the airport, pulling up at the curb of the 
terminal.  Before unbuckling, he said, "We'll be there."

She turned around then, and nodded.  "As I said, you're welcome.  Walter will 
like both of you.  His lab is in the basement of the Kresge Building."

"All the best offices are always in the basement."  He slipped from the 
vehicle, hearing the latch release the back hatch.  Without another word to 
Dunham, he pulled their luggage onto the sidewalk, where Scully waited.

"Boston, Mulder?  I'm not sure I can get another week off work."

"I can go.  I've got to see the real estate agent about the Chilmark house, 
anyway."  He picked up their suitcases and headed for the revolving entry 
door.

"I'm not about to let you go off to a mad scientist's lab unsupervised, 
Mulder."

"Agent Dunham will be there to keep an eye on things."

"That's what worries me.  She's being manipulated as much as we ever were."

"So we'll call Skinner when we get home, and see what he can tell us."

*

In order to clear her schedule for the next week, Scully was forced to work a 
double shift, and straight through the weekend.  She worried at the lack of 
time to do any reading on what to expect when they arrived in Boston, but 
Mulder seemed to take up the task with gusto, and provided notes over whatever 
meal they got the chance to share together.

Friday afternoon, he announced he'd found the original DARPA notes he 
remembered, bad photocopies of dot-matrix printer pages that were barely 
legible, which he claimed came from a friend of Frohike's.  They had 
commissioned Kelvin Genetics, led by Dr. Bishop, to explore chimerism as a 
possible biological defense mechanism in 1982.  Mulder had also provided the 
tidbit that as early as the late 1970s, mammalian chimeras were being produced 
in laboratories.  She'd spent the night at work wondering what purpose such 
creations served.

Saturday, he'd served up cod and a pile of information on the failed project 
which injected a metallic serum to facilitate direct messaging to the human 
brain.  "Sound familiar?" he'd asked, and she just shook her head sadly at the 
all too familiar elements of that story.

Sunday night, he'd picked her up at the hospital after her eighteen hour 
shift, nearly midnight, and handed her a stack of paperwork.  "Massive 
Dynamic.  Founded by Bishop's former research partner, William Bell.  Who has 
since unofficially vanished.  That's barely a quarter of the shady shit I've 
found on them."

She yawned, and slid the pile to the floor.  "I'll read it in the morning."  
She was asleep before they hit 95, the hum of the car on the highway lulling 
her to sleep.  Honking and bright sunlight streaming through the window woke 
her around dawn, as they crossed the George Washington Bridge.  As much as the 
seat would allow, she stretched, feeling the ache of muscles worked too long 
then rested in an unaccustomed position.  It had been years since she'd slept 
in a car.  "You need a break?"

"You slept through my break at the scenic Vince Lombardi rest stop.  There are 
some of those little cinnamon bun things for you."  With one hand, he gestured 
towards a bag wedged between the seats.  "And a coffee."

Tugging the bag free, she dug inside, found a wad of napkins keeping the gooey 
breakfast treats warm.  It wasn't the healthy option she would have chosen, 
but she was hungry.  "So fill me in on that pile of paper you handed me last 
night."

Mulder navigated his way off the bridge, and began, "Walter Bishop was 
institutionalized following the death of a researcher in his lab back in '91, 
and the lab was closed down.  Three months later, William Bell, his research 
partner, founded his own company to continue their biochemical research.  It 
was so successful, he was able to buy Fleming-Monroe in 1999, and the company 
became Massive Dynamic.  They're the second largest government contractor, 
mainly for the DoD, primarily classified fields."

She wiped icing off her fingers, and reached down for the pile of folders on 
the floor.  "What does that have to do with Bishop, or our William, Mulder?"

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and changed lanes before 
answering.  "I talked to Skinner over the weekend.  Apparently he got some 
kind of alert when we were called in to consult.  He did a little digging of 
his own into this case.  The Fringe Division wasn't referred the case from the 
Denver office; they were prepared to pat the kid on the head for being a good 
citizen and proceed with their case against Jamie Paza and Marley 
Kirkpatrick."

"Where did the referral come from, then?"

"Apparently the case was sent to Dunham's SAC, Broyles, from someone at 
Massive Dynamic.  For some reason, they apparently have a monitoring program 
of the national sheep population, which hit on the case, and took an interest 
in William instead of the wooly beasts.  Not the adoption records, though.  
Those were hacked by someone just outside Boston."

For a few minutes, she sat quietly, chewing on the last bite of cinnamon bun 
and thinking.  She knew the myriad pathways of conspiracy Mulder's mind would 
have followed given the revelation.  "You think this corporation, Massive 
Dynamic, wants our son?"

His head wagged, noncommittal.  "We don't know what happened to the forces 
that tried, repeatedly, to take William.  But the corporation arose at a very 
interesting time, and we both know the best way to hide is behind an official 
veneer."

"Skinner confirmed that it's William?"

"He knew."

"He what?"  She sat up straighter in the seat, twisting to face Mulder, anger 
building.

"He said he'd been keeping tabs.  Nothing official, but he knew where he'd 
gone, in case we ever needed to know."

The car was silent the rest of the way to Boston, as she sat, sorting through 
her own feelings.  Mulder, she thought, must be doing much the same, though 
he'd had at least two days head start on her.  They'd gone through so much, 
only to seemingly be caught back up in the same web of half-truths and 
conspiracy.

Mid-morning, they passed the exit for Harvard, and she finally turned back to 
Mulder.  "You missed the exit."  She couldn't fault him for being a bit 
distracted, and he'd never been the best at directions to begin with.  Maybe 
she should be driving.

"The Van De Kamps don't get in until 2:30.  We're going to get settled in 
first."

"Not, apparently, in Cambridge?"

"Not in Cambridge.  Or in Boston."  He dropped his gaze from the road to the 
rim of the wheel, looking a bit sheepish as his longer hair fell across his 
forehead.  "My grandparents' weekend house."

"You've got another one you never mentioned?"

"It's not mine.  It belongs to a cousin."

She raised a brow in surprise.  "A cousin you've never mentioned."

"Dad helped Beth get a job in the Foreign Service.  I don't think she's lived 
in the US for more than a few months since the late eighties.  She's kept the 
house, rents it out." 

Road signs flashed by, and Scully noted their western progress along route 2.  
"In Concord?"

"Just a little northwest, on one of the ponds."

Navigating the country roads, she had to admit that it was prettier than 
staying in town, though it seemed a bit far out.  Eventually, he turned off 
the road onto a paved lane, edged sporadically with shade trees beginning to 
turn the bright hues of autumn.  The trees grew thicker, deepening into a wood 
on either side, before the lane led them to a clearing with a big yellow 
clapboard house, trimmed with green shutters, and a big white wraparound 
porch.  Just behind the house, she could see the glimmer of a pond, dock 
trailing out into sparkling water.  It looked like something from a movie, not 
something from the Mulder family's checkered past.

"It's beautiful.  But we hardly needed all this for a few days.  I hope your 
cousin gave you a good deal!"

He parked the car on a stretch of gravel to the left of the house, bordered by 
a browning trellis of roses,  and eyed the house for a moment before turning 
to her.  "Beth's owned this house for twenty years and never lived in it.  
When I called her about using it for the week, she mentioned she'd been 
thinking about selling it."

"Haven't you been trying to unload houses, rather than collect them?"

"The realtor's office called me Saturday.  There's a contract on the Chilmark 
house, finally."

She studied the property through the windshield.  From here, she had a better 
view of the pond, stretching away towards a piney horizon, no other houses in 
sight.  But they were less than forty minutes from downtown Boston.  Her 
residency and contract was up next June, and they had talked of moving, now 
that Mulder could live openly.

"Let's think about it while we're here this week."  Unbuckling her seatbelt, 
she returned his smile, and slipped from the car.  Though it was closer to 
noon than dawn, there was still a chill lingering in the damp air, and a cool 
breeze riffled her hair.  It was, she had to admit, the kind of place she 
always dreamed of living.

"Come on, let me show you inside."  Mulder took her hand, and led her around 
the porch to the front door.

*

As she watched Peter showing Gene the cow to the Van De Kamps, Olivia rested a 
hip against one of Walter's myriad lab tables, this one covered with a 
collection of beakers filled with liquids of varying colors, viscosities, and 
aromas.  After taking a deep breath and inhaling the sickeningly fruity 
melange of scents, she moved away, toward where Astrid and Walter were working 
on untangling a series of wires.

"What are we starting with, Walter?"

Walter looked up from threading an electrode through a mesh cap.  
"Electroencephalography to start, my dear."  He held up the nest of wires.  
"Once we know where his brain is most active, I'll know how to proceed."

"Just a regular EEG?"  Somehow she doubted any test run in this lab was 'just' 
anything.

"I'm sure you expected something much more radical, but that will have to wait 
until I know how radical the boy is."  He turned to face the approaching Van 
De Kamps, concluding their tour of the lab with Peter.  "I understand he's 
pretty remarkable, aren't you, young man."

Somehow, the boy's nose managed to wrinkle at the same time as his brow rose, 
obviously uncertain what response he should provide this stranger.  Finally, 
he said, "I'm not quite sure, sir."

"No need for such formalities, here!  You may call me Walter.  This is 
Astraea--

"Astrid," the young agent corrected, extending a hand to shake with the boy.  
"You must be Billy."

He seemed more at ease with her, appearing to relax a bit.  If he really was 
an empath, as Mulder's exam indicated, it made sense to Olivia; Astrid was the 
most centered and no-nonsense person she'd ever worked with.

"So what are you folks looking at doing with Billy?"  Mike Van De Kamp had 
hung back, lingering near the aromatic table Olivia had recently fled.  Worry 
lines creased the corners of his eyes as he glanced around the equipment 
assembled in the center of the lab.

"We'll be starting with a simple EEG, Mr. Van De Kamp.  Dr. Bishop is going to 
put an electrode cap on Billy's head to see what kind of neural activity is 
happening, and where."  That sounded, she thought, perfectly plausible and not 
at all fantastical.  This was not a man who would appreciate the fantastical.

One who would, though, was coming through the door of the lab.  There had been 
a knock, and Mulder and Scully entered as she caught a glimpse of the Life 
Sciences TA's braid flicking away down the hall.  No one lingered long down 
here, and avoided the Bishop lab if at all possible.  If not for the 
involvement of DHS and the FBI, she was sure  Harvard would have evicted the 
entire circus by now.  Or at least the cow.

The pair paused a few steps into the lab, both their eyes widening.  Mulder 
had the sudden look of a kid in a candy store, while Scully merely seemed 
surprised at the equipment stuffed into the laboratory space.  It was Scully 
who seemed to hone in on the group in the center of the lab first, and made a 
beeline towards Olivia, Mulder trailing after.  "Agent Dunham, our apologies 
for the lateness.  We underestimated afternoon traffic."

Introductions were made, and Olivia watched the newcomers size up the Fringe 
team.  Mulder looked right at home, but Scully stood to one side, near Astrid, 
eyeing the mass of wires.  "Dr. Bishop, what course of examination were you 
planning for today?"

"We were just getting ready to do an EEG.  If you would like to assist me with 
the readings, perhaps Mr. Mulder would help Peter?  We're going  to ask the 
little boy to do a few tasks to figure out what's going on in that remarkable 
brain of his."  Walter shuffled forward and lifted the electrode netting 
towards Billy.  "Young man, would you put this on, please."

"Um, okay."  For the first time, he truly sounded his age, young and a bit 
frightened.

Astrid turned from where she was plugging in the electrodes.  "Here, why don't 
you come sit down, while we get things set up for you.  It won't hurt, it's 
just like wearing a really ugly hat."  She took the cap from Walter, and 
helped Billy settle it onto his head.  "Good?"

The boy nodded, shyly.

Olivia hung back, guiding Mike Van De Kamp to an out of the way seat.  She 
didn't bother asking if he wanted to leave.  There was a hum as the machinery 
started up, and though Mike and Billy looked alarmed, neither Walter nor Dr. 
Scully seemed troubled, so she pulled out her notebook, prepared to watch and 
document.

***