"He may not be gone, Mulder."
"Scully, I saw him shot in the forehead. Right through the middle."
"And that wouldn't be the first time he's made someone see something."
Mulder stopped, and they stood in silence for a moment.
"I want to believe that, Dana."
Over time, Scully's dreams slowly started to become less chaotic. There was less turmoil, no more visions of Mulder on the bridge, yet they still didn't feel like her own.
And then one day it happened.
William came to her in a dream, let her know that he was okay. She begged for him to come home to her.
And one day he did.
"Mulder, can you get the door?" A very pregnant Scully yelled from the kitchen. She didn't enjoy cooking very much, but they couldn't get much take out delivered to their remote farmhouse. Man, she missed that Smart Home with its voice control to order Seamless whenever she wanted.
"Mulder, who is it?" she yelled again. They really didn't get many visitors. They had lost so much over the last few years. They lived too far out for casual acquaintances to drop by, no neighbors for miles, and family and friends were in short supply.
With no reply, Scully walked out of the kitchen and to the living room, curious.
"William," she whispered. "Is that really you?" She spoke through tears.
"My name is Jackson."
She was quiet for a moment. "Of course it is. I'm sorry."
She timidly crossed the room to the doorway and joined at Mulder's side. "Please come in, Jackson."
Jackson came in, but neither Mulder nor Scully moved closer to him, both remembering what Mulder had experienced when he had met Jackson in that motel room, when Mulder had attempted an embrace. They understood this was awkward for him, as badly as they both wanted to hold him.
Mulder had come to the conclusion that it did not matter to him that William -Jackson- was not his son. He was family, and Mulder had spent the better part of the last two decades believing this was his child. Genetics didn't matter now.
Scully had come to the same conclusion. Her son may not have been conceived in love as she had believed, but he was her son, borne of her body. She had nursed him as an infant, sang him to sleep. It had ripped her heart out when she gave him up to protect him. It ripped her heart out again to know how much he had suffered in his life without her there to take his pain or to give him the explanations he desired.
Mulder broke the silence. "Son-"
"You know I'm not-" Jackson started.
"You will always be my son."
They were silent again.
It was Scully's turn. "I told the adoption agency the name I gave you, but told them your adoptive parents would have to change it."
"William is a nice name, its just not ..."
"I know."
"Why did you name me that?"
"It's a family name."
"Who?"
"You were named for Mulder- your father- I mean Fox's- father, but it was also my father's name, my brother's name, and Fox's middle name."
Jackson looked incredulous, and turned to his father. "Your name is Fox?"
Mulder laughed. "Yes son, my name is Fox. And believe me, I understand what it's like not to want to be called something."
Scully smiled. "Jackson, we'll call you whatever you want. We're just so thrilled you're here."
Jackson looked down at the floor. "I hate being alone all the time."
"You don't have to be alone, Jackson, we're your family and we love you. You will always have a place here," Scully said softly, as she took a step towards him.
"Thank you... mom," Jackson whispered.
Scully took another step closer, and held out her arms.
Jackson allowed her embrace.
Mulder stood by, a tear rolling down his face, as he too stepped closer, resting a hand on each of their shoulders.
The little family embraced for a moment before they broke, Jackson noting that his mother's belly moved. "Holy-"
"Yeah, you used to do that too," Scully said, smiling at him, and then down at her belly.
Mulder spoke up. "Maybe we should all have a seat? Or I think your mother was cooking something?"
Scully snickered. "I was making frozen pizza."
"You seemed to be in there a long time."
"With salad. From a bag."
Mulder smiled and looked over at his son. "Neither of us are great in the kitchen, but we manage not to starve."
"I could eat," Jackson said softly.
"Of course." Scully pulled a second pizza from the freezer, realizing her teenage son would probably want more than a piece or two.
Her teenage son.
It was hard for her to wrap her mind around that, even since they reunited for the first time nearly a year ago.
"Wil- Jackson, are you going to stay with us?" Mulder asked.
Jackson paused before answering. "For tonight, anyway, if you have room for me."
"You have your own room here. You always have," Scully spoke.
"Will it be the baby's room?"
"No, it's yours. We have extra rooms," Mulder assured him.
The family settled in for dinner, as they began to answer some of Jackson's questions. Jackson understood why his mother had given him up, having heard her confession to him when she believed him dead when they first encountered, but he had so many questions about how and why he came to be. He had been able to fill in some of the blanks for Mulder and Scully about the Smoking Man's involvement, at least what he had been able to glean when he had a connection with him- and which he assured his parents- he could no longer feel. What he didn't understand was why he came to be. Why his mother had been targeted. Why he felt a different kind of connection to Mulder. What his powers meant. If it would ever be over.
"I haven't sensed anyone coming after me for the past few months, it's why I felt safe coming here now. I don't think they're following me. I would never put the two of you and the baby in danger like that, you have to know that." Jackson said, worriedly. "It's why I kept running away."
"Jackson, not for nothing, but we are two retired FBI agents, capable of defending ourselves and used to running from government forces meant to do us harm. Your mother even did a pretty good job of protecting you when you were a baby. All we have ever wanted since before you were born was for you to be safe an happy," Mulder paused. "And we are so, so sorry that for so much of your life you haven't been. Please let us help you."
Scully spoke up. "I would love for you to stay as long as you like, and for you to know that you can always come home, whatever you decide you want to do with your future."
They sat in silence for a moment, silently chewing their food.
Scully broke the silence again.
"When we came to your home and found you- like that- we found some pictures in a drawer of you as a boy." Scully left the table to retrieve the pictures she had taken. "Can you tell us about them?"
The three of them spent the rest of the evening learning about each other.
When Scully woke in the morning, she found her son gone, a note left on his bed.
"Thank you for the answers, Mom. I'll be back someday.
-William."