Machines of Freedom (5/12) 
by Amal Nahurriyeh
  
Email:  amalnahurriyeh@gmail.com
Pairing: On the gen/MSR border, with mentions of slash
pairings.
Rating: R (non-explicit sex, language, adult subjects)
Warnings: None for major triggers, but includes some
descriptions of violence (in a R-rated movie kind of way).
There are also people under the age of 15 in this story; be
forewarned.

Summary: The end of the world is coming. And they're
doing everything in their power to stop it.
Timeline/Spoilers: Post-IWTB, seasons 8 & 9 compatible;
exists in my post-IWTB universe, which also includes
Whiteboard, The Keeping of Secrets, and Five Times
Mosley Drummy Wishes He Never Met Fox Mulder, but not
necessary to have read those first.
  

Chapter Five

December 10, 2010 
1:19 PM Mountain Time 
Somewhere north of Kaycee, Wyoming 
 
Mulder had one hand on his jammed gun, the other on his 
son's shoulder, and no earthly idea where they were going. 
He looked out the window of the helicopter and tried to get 
a sense of place, but the mountain states all looked the 
same. He glanced back at William. He was still holding his 
backpack in his hands--a plain one, blue, a little faded, 
probably the Van de Kamps made him reuse it from year to 
year--but he was looking out the window with a sort of calm 
but undisguised fascination. His face was so like Scully's 
in set, even if he saw elements of himself in the framing. 
His hair was longer than in the class photo, probably due 
for a trim. Did Regina do it herself at the kitchen table? 
Something about the bare facts he knew of the Van de Kamps 
left him hollow, and he wanted a story, wanted to know how 
they had raised his boy, wanted to know who they had made 
him turn out to be.  
 
Scully was watching them both. She was about an inch from 
crying, which made Mulder feel a little better about being 
an inch from a panic attack, but every time he looked over 
at William something in him stopped vibrating. He 
remembered the moment, in the helicopter on the way to the 
hospital, Scully collapsed in his arms with Monica shouting 
into the two-way radio, when he had realized that among the 
thousand noises he was hearing was a baby crying, looking 
down and seeing William for the first time, red and yelling 
against Scully's chest. His heart had suddenly blown clear 
open. He was a father. He had a family again. He wasn't 
sure if Scully was remembering that, or any of other little 
memories of William she must have from those nine months. 
But he felt at this moment like he had then, the sudden 
shock of the actual existence of his son. 
 
Through the headphones, he heard the girl read out a series 
of coordinates to the pilot. He recognized them: the 
compound. She was taking them to the compound. Scully 
looked up at him, and he nodded to confirm. She relaxed, 
just slightly. Whoever this girl with the nicotine habit 
was, she was taking them somewhere safe. Provided her plan 
wasn't going to be to blow the mountain. 
 
Stark, Montana, lived up to its name: less than a town, 
more a simple designator for a place with a marginally 
higher density of houses than the surrounding area. North 
of it, there lay an unmarked turn-off with a suspiciously 
well-paved entrance. Three miles back along that path was 
another unmarked turn-off, which lead, eventually, to a 
small clearing in the trees in front of a cliff face. This 
clearing was the only marker the entrance to the compound 
had. It had been built by survivalists in the 1970s; Mulder 
had managed to acquire title for it and then, 
surreptitiously, erase its existence from most public 
records. It was less than an hour from Missoula, which 
meant they had a ready source of basic supplies, but it was 
far enough out that nothing coming or going ever was 
noticed. The location was just about perfect. In the event 
that they failed at preventing colonization, they could be 
sealed inside; their monitoring software would make it 
possible for them to fight as long as possible, and, if 
that was no longer an option, they could simply wait to see 
what would happen.  
 
Monica had been the first to head up; she had quit, 
quietly, back in 2009, and spent some time visiting her 
family in Mexico before she simply disappeared to the 
world, and reappeared to head a small crew making the 
compound livable. John had waited until most of the way 
through 2010 to quit; he bought a cabin outside of Elk 
River, Idaho, and had then managed to fade discreetly into 
the background. The small staff was gathered through 
personal connections; it was now up to thirty-five, and due 
to grow exponentially when the family members and friends 
of the staff were collected in the coming weeks. Mulder 
couldn't help but feel like his own father: spearheading a 
project to try to save humanity, gathering his loved ones 
close and hoping he'd managed to work out a deal. He 
assured himself, and Scully did as well, that they were 
actually on the side of right here; but he vacillated 
wildly about whether or not he believed that. 
 
The pilot spoke quietly into his headset. "Ma'am, we're ten 
miles out." 
 
"Thank you," the girl said, and pulled a notebook from her 
pocket. Her body language had been shifting slowly over the 
flight; she was still tense, and hyper-alert, but she'd 
started looking pleased, rather than menacing. She flipped 
through the pages of the notebook and then pulled the radio 
controls into her lap and started poking at the dials. 
After a few tries, Mulder heard the distinctive hum of the 
compound's decoders. She activated her headset. "Alpha 
base, this is incoming from southeast. Identification code 
Charlie-Sierra-Mike, 2-1-1-1, authenticating, please 
respond." 
 
There was a pause, and then a male voice. "Charlie-Sierra-
Mike 2111, we read you. Authentication code delta, hold for 
clearance." 
 
She held up her hand to the pilot, and the helicopter 
slowed and hovered. She turned pages in the book. 
"Authentication code delta, whisky-1-8-1-0-1-3-0-7-foxtrot. 
Holding for clearance." 
 
The pause was longer this time. "Charlie-Sierra-Mike, 
authentication code kilo, continue holding." 
 
"Honestly," the girl muttered, and flipped through her book 
some more. "Authentication code kilo, 1-0-kilo-7-3-5-delta. 
Holding."  
 
Again, a pause. "Charlie-Sierra-Mike, cleared for 
approach." She gestured to the pilot, and they started 
moving forward again. "Watch commander will rendezvous. 
What's your cargo?" 
 
She looked back over her shoulder. "I've got three 
friendlies and a prisoner in tow. Also, we're going to have 
to do something about this helicopter." 
 
"Copy that. Escort will be waiting." The radio crackled. 
Slightly quieter, the voice said, "Jesus, Case, where've 
you been?" 
 
"Oh, you know me, Raoul," she said nonchalantly, "you 
really can't get a good manicure in the asscrack of 
Montana." She put the notebook away as Raoul chuckled. 
"How's my inbox?" 
 
"You've got a pile about a foot high, and that's not 
counting the digital. Monica's going to chain you to a desk 
until you get done with it, I think." 
 
"Well, I try to keep things like that out of the workplace, 
but if she insists. Let me guess, it's her watch." 
 
"Oh, yeah." 
 
"Wish me luck. We're in visual." The clearing appeared, and 
the large metal door in the side of the rise of cliff at 
its end.  
 
"Confirm visual. I'll make you a cake with a file in it." 
 
"Affirmative and out." She put down the radio and turned to 
the pilot. "I'm assuming we're not going to have any 
trouble with you?" 
 
"No, ma'am," he said. "I'm not particularly ideological." 
 
"Good answer," she said.  
 
Mulder looked back at William. He had apparently ignored 
the conversation--which was good, it really wasn't 
particularly child-appropriate, he realized belatedly--and 
was watching the ground with a mixture of excitement and 
nervousness. He chanced a glance at Scully. Her face was 
slightly softened as she watched William; it was the look 
she had on her face when she watched Sadie sleep, a look of 
almost unbelieving contentment. He liked that look. He 
liked what it meant that she had it. He pressed his hand 
into William's shoulder. 
 
He looked back at him. Mulder smiled. He couldn't think of 
anything to say. "I'm your father" seemed redundant, plus a 
little odd; "I'm so happy to see you" didn't even begin to 
cover it; "Tell me everything about you" was too needy. He 
settled for smiling, and patting his shoulder. William 
smiled, too; he had Scully's smile by shape, but he seemed 
willing to use it, which was a welcome turn of events. 
 
The helicopter touched down. Mulder reached across to 
unbuckle William's seat belt on instinct. "I can do it," 
William said, and reached for it. 
 
"OK," Mulder said, and realized that was an incredibly 
stupid first thing to say to his son. "Don't forget your 
bag," he added, which was actually stupider, but at least 
had some content.  
 
"I won't," William said, so naturally that they might have 
been arguing about remembering your mittens at the end of 
the day. 
 
The girl was the first one out of the helicopter; she 
jumped out her door and pulled out her cigarettes, lighting 
one immediately. As Mulder pulled open the back door to the 
helicopter, he saw Monica storming towards the helicopter 
with two armed guards, wearing only a tank top and jeans 
despite the snow whipping off the ground around them. She 
was livid, and looking right at the girl. "Casey, what the 
fuck," she yelled before she was halfway to them.  
 
"Anybody miss me?" the girl said, exhaling a cloud of 
smoke. 
 
"You're *ten days* overdue. Not a word. And then you show 
up in a big black evil *helicopter?* With *prisoners?* And 
who the hell are the friendlies you brought? Honestly, I--" 
Monica glanced up and saw Mulder climbing out of the 
helicopter. He smiled at her, reached in, and lifted 
William down to the ground. Then he held a hand out to 
Scully, who climbed down and immediately put her hands on 
William's shoulders.  
 
Monica gaped for just a moment. "See, I didn't do so bad," 
the girl--Casey--said, bringing the cigarette back to her 
mouth. 
 
Monica glanced between Mulder and Scully, and then broke 
out in a full smile. "William," she said quietly. "Oh my 
goodness, look at how big you are." Mulder felt comforted 
that no one else could come up with anything rational to 
say. She stepped forward and pushed his hair back from his 
face. "Look at you. I know you don't remember me, but I'm 
your Aunt Monica." Aunt? Mulder snuck a look at Scully; she 
shrugged.  
 
"Hi," William said, and smiled politely.  
 
Monica bent down and hugged him. Mulder fought off the 
jealousy that Monica hugged him first; she did it so 
naturally, whereas he seemed to have regressed to having 
literally no sense of how to touch people. William stood 
fairly still, looking, well, looking like a kid being 
hugged by an aunt he's never met. She pulled away, and 
wiped her eyes. "Well. Come on inside." She turned around 
and gave Casey a hard look. "Bill, Ryan, come take the 
prisoners." 
 
"It's just the pilot, and I don't think he'll give us 
trouble--" Casey said, taking a quick drag on her cigarette 
before flicking it away. 
 
"You're a prisoner," Monica snapped. "Hands on your head." 
 
Casey sighed dramatically and complied. "You know, I never 
thought you--" 
 
"Shut up." Monica stalked towards the entrance. 
 
If you didn't know it was there, you wouldn't have noticed 
it; that was the idea. But there was a hole in the cliff 
face big enough to fit the helicopter through, with a six-
inch thick retractable steel door. There was a smaller, 
person-sized door in the middle of it. Monica led the way, 
with one guard each on Casey and the pilot, and Mulder, 
Scully, and William following behind. Scully's hand was on 
William's back now; Mulder had replaced hers on his 
shoulder. They walked through the door, and into the 
cavernous entryway. Incongruously, there was a large 
security desk there, with computers and monitors arrayed 
behind it, and some velvet rope directing traffic to a 
series of what looked like metal detectors, but also 
included the non-human detector (which the techs had dubbed 
a "human being or giant alien bug" detector) and a machine 
that, they were pretty sure, could detect the early stages 
of infection with the alien virus. The first guard walked 
the pilot through the detectors; he came out clean, so he 
deposited him in a small Lucite cell and came back through. 
Monica was standing in front of the detectors with Casey. 
"Weapons off," she said sternly. 
 
Mulder reached around to his waist to unclip his jammed 
gun. "Are we weapons-free inside?" 
 
"No, Mulder, you're fine," Monica said, still staring at 
Casey.  
 
Casey pulled her notebook, her cigarettes, her lighter and 
her gun out of her right trench coat pocket. Then she 
pulled an ice pick and a hunting knife out of the left one. 
She plunked them down on the security desk, took off the 
coat, and turned it inside out. She ripped the lining at 
the hem, and removed three clips that were sewn into it, 
and then put the coat on the desk. From the pocket of her 
suit jacket came a magnetite dart gun, one of the 
prototypes before they'd settled on the current design, and 
three USB flash drives. "Those are interesting, don't 
degauss them," she said as she dropped them on the counter. 
Then that jacket came off, and she took the holster and 
extra clip off her waist; then her blouse, to reveal a 
white tank top and a small, flat stun gun strapped to her 
shoulder. She put them all on the counter, and hiked up her 
skirt. On her left thigh was a garter holster with another 
gun. She removed the holster and put it on the counter, 
then peeled her stockings down. With a yank, she removed a 
zombie button from the back of her knee.  
 
Mulder looked at the pile of weaponry on the counter. "What 
were you planning for?" he couldn't help asking. 
 
She looked over at him. "You not to make it." 
 
"Everything," Monica said sharply. 
 
Casey sighed and reached into her bra. She pulled out a 
small vial. Mulder swallowed; they had talked about 
procuring cyanide tablets, but he hadn't thought about them 
as a real possibility. Monica winced slightly at the sight 
of the vial. Casey stepped forward towards her, just 
slightly, and pressed it into her hand. "Mon, I'm fine," 
she said softly. 
 
Monica's eyes snapped from the vial back up to Casey's 
face. "Ryan, take her down to the holding cell. Don't take 
your gun off her." 
 
"Yes, ma'am," Ryan said. "Come on, Case."  
 
"Sure, let's go," Casey said, and let the armed guard take 
her away.  
 
Bill, the other guard, had settled himself at the 
terminals. "Dr. Scully, Mr. Mulder. It's a pleasure to 
finally meet you."  
 
He couldn't be more than twenty, Mulder thought. "It's a 
pleasure to be here," Scully said, politely.  
 
"I'll have to run you through the security protocols. It 
won't take more than a few minutes," he said. "Dr. Scully, 
if you could step up to the scanner." 
 
She leaned in to the retinal scanner while pressing her 
hand onto the hand pad. There was a brief flash as she was 
scanned, and then the monitor next to it read, "DKS-4671 
ACTIVE." Bill fiddled with the computer for a moment, and 
then handed her a badge with her photo and a black object 
the size of a pager. "This is your authentication and 
locator device. You have to wear it at all times, or at 
least keep it in the same room as you when you're in your 
quarters. It's got--" 
 
"I know how it works, Bill," Scully said, slightly amused. 
"I designed it." 
 
"Oh. Right." Bill cleared his throat. "Anyway, your badge 
gets you into the computer system, and the box is your 
personal clearance. So just keep them on you. Mr. Mulder?" 
 
Mulder repeated the process with the scanner: FWM-8201, 
read his badge. The photo was pretty terrible, but he'd 
live. He clipped it onto his belt, and slid the box into 
his pocket.  
 
Bill hesitated, looking at William. "Does he have a record, 
or--" 
 
"No, you'll have to make one," Scully said. Mulder glanced 
over at William. He kept looking sideways at Bill, and then 
the monitors, and then the giant vaulted ceiling.  
 
Bill typed and clicked and then sighed. "OK. Name?" 
 
"William Mulder," Scully said automatically, at the same 
moment as Mulder said, "William Scully." 
 
He glanced up at her and arched an eyebrow at her. "You 
gave him my name?" 
 
"Of course I did. How did you not know that?" 
 
"How would I have known that? It's not like we had any sort 
of a conversation about it--" 
 
"It was on his birth certificate." 
 
"When would I have seen his birth certificate? I was only 
around, what, three days?" 
 
"It was on the fridge, the thing with the footprint. And 
God knows you spent enough time in front of my fridge--" 
 
"William Van de Kamp," William said suddenly, a little 
rushed. Mulder paused and looked down at him. He glanced 
quickly between the two adults. "It's just easier."  
 
"Absolutely," Scully said, and patted his back, slightly 
embarrassed. 
 
Bill took them through a little recitation of birthday 
(Scully winced when William gave the one from his false 
birth certificate) and vital statistics, and the 
establishing retinal and palm scans took a minute. He 
smiled for the little webcam that Bill held up, and then 
admired the badge when it popped out of the machine, 
reading WVK-7520. "That was fast," he said. 
 
"We try to be efficient," Mulder said.  
 
Monica was waiting for them on the other side of the 
scanner. They peaked the bug detector into the yellow, but, 
well, that was to be expected; he and Scully had actually 
been the control subjects for it. "Come on, I'll show you 
to your quarters," she said. "There's a map of the compound 
in there, and the things you sent ahead. You've got one of 
the few two-bedroom units, but there's just one bed in the 
second room; we'll have to get another one when Sadie 
comes." 
 
Mulder felt William startle a little at the name, but he 
didn't say anything. The elevator looked surprisingly 
normal as they climbed it, but it did require Monica to 
scan her badge before it would take her anywhere. "The 
first hundred feet or so are all storage; I guess that's 
where we'll put the helicopter once we check it out for 
locators. John says there are a couple of tanks in there, 
but I think he's making that up. Then the top habitable 
layer is the labs; then two layers of quarters, then the 
control level. Shelter's beneath all the operations. That's 
where we'll put the refugees." 
 
Scully cleared her throat. "We have some more names to add 
to the list after today." 
 
Monica looked over at William for a moment, then up at 
Mulder. He looked away. "I'll tell John. It shouldn't be a 
problem."  
 
"Um," William said. 
 
"What is it?" Mulder asked. 
 
"You don't both have to hold on to me at the same time," he 
said. "I'm not going anywhere. We're in an elevator." 
 
Mulder realized that Scully still had her hand on his back, 
and that his hand on William's shoulder had been getting 
progressively tighter. "Sorry," he said, and pulled his 
hand back, shoved it into his pocket. It itched to go back.  
 
Scully crossed her arms. "We're a little paranoid." 
 
"It's OK," William said, and shrugged a little. 
 
The elevator opened. "This is level three, the lower level 
of quarters," Monica said, leading them down the hall. 
"It's got larger quarters, so we're putting staff families 
and couples on it as they come in. John keeps arguing that 
team leaders should get bigger units to hold team meetings 
in but I think that's just because he likes the appliances 
in 3T. You're in 3R. It's right here." She gestured to it. 
"Doors are card activated; access is limited to people who 
live in the unit, with top-level staff able to get in with 
retinal scan and emergency codes. Up on 2, generally folks 
keep their doors open if they're up for company; it's a 
little like going back to college. I think it's quieter 
down here."  
 
Scully pulled her card through the slot; the little light 
went green. They waited for the door to open. Monica smiled 
and pointed to the handle. "Sorry, they aren't actually 
*Star Trek* doors." 
 
"We've got an underground bunker full of anti-alien 
weapons, and we don't have *Star Trek* doors? Something's 
wrong here," Mulder said. Scully cleared her throat and 
opened the door, and he followed her and William into the 
quarters.  
 
They were bare, but not empty; an uncomfortable-looking 
couch, a dining table with four chairs, a little corner 
with a microwave and fridge--God, it was a dorm room. Piled 
in the corner were five small packing boxes which they had 
sent ahead. Where were the suitcases? Shit, his duffel bag 
was still in the trunk of the car in the Van de Kamps' 
front drive. He'd had his razor in that. And that blue 
shirt Scully had gotten him for his birthday.  
 
Monica hesitated at the door. "You know, I'd love to stay 
and chat, but I'm sure you have some settling in to do." 
 
"Yes, I think so," Scully said, looking around at the empty 
room. "Do we have schedules yet?" 
 
"We didn't think you'd be making it until the fourteenth," 
Monica said, and Mulder was impressed that she managed to 
keep any sort of judgement out of that sentence. "We don't 
really need you on the watch list yet. Dana, you'll 
probably just end up taking over the lab. I know Matt would 
appreciate it. John and I were going to have a senior staff 
meeting at six over dinner in the dining hall on two; why 
don't you join us then, and we'll figure it out from 
there?" 
 
"Do we get cell phone reception down here?" Mulder asked. 
Sadie, they needed to check in on Sadie. Had it actually 
been only yesterday they had left Baltimore? 
 
"You mean, for regular calling out? We'll have to rig your 
phones. Where are you supposed to be?" 
 
"Boca Raton. I'll need a fax number there, too," Scully 
said, handing over her phone.  
 
Mulder pulled his out of his pocket. It wasn't registering 
a time, which was odd. "What time is it here?" 
 
"Two." Monica took his phone from him. "I'll make sure this 
gets set up by dinner."  
 
"Sooner if possible, please," Scully said, and opened the 
first bedroom door.  
 
"Gotcha. See you later," Monica said, and ducked out the 
door, shutting it behind her. 
 
Scully emerged from the bedroom, sans coat. "This one is 
ours. So, William, this will be yours," she said, and 
opened the door to the second bedroom." 
 
He followed her in, and Mulder followed them both. William 
was holding his backpack by the top loop now, and 
critically evaluating the room. A single twin bed was 
pushed against one wall, with Sadie's pink Disney 
Princesses suitcase on top of it, and a cardboard box 
labelled S - TOYS, BOOKS, PLASTIC SHOES in Scully's neat 
handwriting. Scully picked up the suitcase and moved it to 
the corner, away from the bed. William cleared his throat 
and shuffled a little. "Um. Sadie." 
 
Scully picked up the box of toys and moved it to next to 
the suitcase. "She's your sister," she said, not making eye 
contact. 
 
"Oh. OK." William put his bag down on the floor at the foot 
of the bed. He hesitated, and asked. "How old is she?" 
 
"She's three," Mulder said.  
 
William shifted again, uncomfortably. God, Mulder thought, 
he knew this dance, the dance of *what's wrong with me, why 
am I the one you never wanted.* "Oh," William said, very 
quietly.  
 
Scully sighed and sat down on the bed. "We owe you an 
explanation, William. I'm sorry to be doing this so 
suddenly." She patted the bed next to her, and looked up at 
Mulder. He nodded, and walked out to the living room. One 
of the cardboard boxes was labelled KEEPSAKES. He ripped 
through the tape and rifled through it until he found the 
small blue photo book. His knees popped as he stood and 
walked back to the bedroom. William had joined Scully on 
the bed, his head a little tucked. She reached out and 
smoothed his hair back behind his ears. "We didn't think we 
could have children," she said quietly. 
 
That wasn't where he would have started it, but OK. 
 
"Your father and I worked for the FBI. We made some very 
powerful enemies, people who had a reach beyond the 
government, who were very dangerous. We worked together. We 
wanted children, but it didn't seem to be possible." She 
cleared her throat. "The day I found out I was pregnant, 
your father was--" Her eyes flickered to him, and then back 
to William. "Was taken, by our enemies. He was gone for six 
months. I thought he was dead. The only thing that kept me 
going was you." She drew a shaky breath, and Mulder fought 
the desire to go find something to kick. The walls in this 
place looked good for kicking. "And then he came back, and 
I thought we would be safe, that we could be together, that 
we could keep fighting but still have a little family. The 
day you were born was one of the happiest of my life." 
 
Mulder held out the book. She took it, and opened it to the 
first page. They had taken the photo with the self-timer on 
her camera, the night she got home from the hospital. He 
was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, and she 
was leaning into his body, her head tucked under her chin. 
The little pink ball of William was curled between them, 
wrapped in that absurd blanket. Scully looked into the 
camera, but Mulder stared down at William. Both of them 
were smiling in that odd, stunned way new parents always 
seem to have.

William leaned in and examined the photo closely. Scully 
put her hand on his neck and stroked softly. "So what 
happened?" he asked. 
 
She sighed and closed the book. "We weren't safe," she 
said. "Three days after you were born, your father had to 
leave. He spent the next year on the run. I didn't know 
where he was; I couldn't find him. We barely spoke. I 
didn't know if he was safe most of the time. During that 
year, there were two separate attempts on your life." 
William blinked at that, but Scully kept going. "I was 
alone. I was working so hard to protect you, to stop our 
enemies. But I couldn't do it. There was no way I could 
keep you safe. I made the only choice I thought I could."  
 
William reached out and took the book from Scully's lap. He 
opened it to the first page again, and then turned it. The 
next page was a photo of Mulder asleep on the couch, with 
William lying on his chest, just as asleep, and another of 
William squinting at the camera in a shirt that said 
"ladies' man" in bright yellow. "So you gave me up for 
adoption." 
 
"Yes," Scully said. "I did."  
 
"We couldn't have done anything else," Mulder said. Scully 
looked up at him, but he wasn't going to let her take all 
the blame. "Right after you went to live with your adoptive 
parents, we both had to run. We spent years in hiding, 
living under assumed names. Your mother was able to come 
back out in 2004, but I only finally was cleared in 2008." 
 
William looked at the book, a photo of himself propped in a 
baby chair, giving the camera the evil eye. He looked up at 
Mulder. "2008," he said. Mulder nodded. William's forehead 
wrinkled as he did mental math. "And Sadie's three." 
 
Mulder smiled. "You're a smart kid."  
 
William looked down at the book again. "You both call me 
William." 
 
"That's what we named you," Scully said softly.  
 
"I go by Will now," he said. "Is that OK?" 
 
"Of course," Scully said.  
 
"Better than Billy," Mulder said.  
 
Scully shot him a look that very clearly said *we do not 
yet need family drama, Mulder.* "Will," she said, "if you 
have any questions, you can ask us. We have family photos 
with us that you can go through, or we can just tell you 
things. I don't want to overburden you, but whatever you 
want to know is fine." 
 
Will turned another page: Maggie Scully giving him a bath 
in the sink, his baby-self dressed in a pumpkin costume. 
"Um, yeah, I have a question."  
 
"Sure," Scully said.  
 
"What are your names?"

Mulder watched Scully's visible wince, and barely was able 
to restrain his own. She took a shuddering breath. "My name 
is Dana Scully." 
 
"Fox Mulder," he said. Will looked up at him and arched his 
eyebrows. Mulder rolled his eyes dramatically. "Don't you 
start."  
 
Will grinned. He looked back at the book. "Can I keep this 
for a while?" 
 
"Of course," Scully said. She yawned suddenly. "Will, do 
you mind if I take a nap? We drove all night to get to you 
this morning, and I'm a little exhausted." 
 
"OK," he said, as if he were surprised to be asked. 
 
"Don't go anywhere," Mulder said. The lights in the room 
had begun to take on a slightly hallucinogenic quality; he 
could probably use a nap too.  
 
"Yeah, OK," Will said, and turned another page in the book. 
 
As if on impulse, Scully leaned over and kissed Will on the 
temple. It hurt to watch, not out of jealousy, but because 
there was something so right about it; because, as far as 
Will was concerned, it was the first time. He startled a 
little, and then looked over at her and smiled.  
 
Scully stood and half-stumbled to the doorframe. He 
followed her, with a long look at Will sitting on his bed, 
thumbing through his baby book. The bed in their room was 
smallish, but they crawled in without even pulling down the 
blanket. He lay on his side facing her; she kicked off her 
shoes and curled her back against him. "He's real," she 
whispered.  
 
"I know," he said, and kissed her ear. "Sleep." 
 
"Yeah," she said. 
 
He closed his eyes. Through the wall, he thought he could 
hear the pages turning.