Title: Coming Home

email: After ten years, William finally meets his birth parents.

Website: Welcome with open arms!

Rating: PG

Archive: Surely! It would be great to let me know!

Spoilers: Season 8/9

Category: A, MSR

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

Author's note: This is a bit different than my normal thing. This is in response to the Nursery Files Challenge. The elements are posted after the story. And no beta, so all mistakes are mine:)

Coming Home

by YappiChick

I always knew I was adopted. It was a fact that my adopted parents never tried to hide from me and I appreciated that. They knew they couldn't hide anything from me anyway; I can read people's minds.

My parents were at first horrified by the idea. What kind of child did they adopt? Was I going to tell everyone their darkest secrets? Who should they tell? But soon, they realized that I wasn't the freak they had thought I was. I was still their little William.

Mom and Dad were always great to me. Their love for me was sincere and they never treated anything less than their own. No one would ever be able to guess I was not a child of their flesh and blood.

I did vaguely remember my birth mother. They were more thoughts than actual images: what a miracle I was, how much she loved me, and how fearful she was that she couldn't protect me. It was this last thought that led her to give me up for adoption. I knew her name: Dana Scully. I remember the people visiting her calling her this. Fuzzy images of a bald man and a young man and woman also were associated with thoughts of Dana Scully. I had no memories of my birth father.

Everything out on the farm was mundane, in a good way. I could count on Dad waking up at dawn to tend to the chores while Mom got me ready for school. It was a routine I could count on no matter what was going on.

All of that changed two weeks after my tenth birthday. My mom was driving home from the local grocery store when I drunk driver ran a stop sign and hit her car. She died at the scene. Dad and I were out on the fields that day. I still remember Sheriff Lewis walking up to us with a sad look on his face and Dad repeating, "No. No. No."

Over the next month, Dad slipped further and further down his depression. I had to take care of things around the house. I didn't mind; they took me in and cared for me, I could help out while Dad came to terms with his grief.

What I didn't expect was the change in Dad's thinking. Suddenly, I became a constant reminder of my mom. I could hear him thinking he didn't want me around anymore. For the first time in my life, I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, Dad came to me. He must have known I heard his thoughts. "Will," he said, "sometimes adults don't think clearly when they go through such a terrible tragedy. I love you so much."

I told him that I understood and walked away. I knew that despite his effort to reassure me and him that things would be alright, neither of us felt that way. I knew something had to change.

Fortunately, I was on summer break which led me some free time after my chores on the barn. I went on the internet and did a search for my birth mother. It was the first time I had attempted to find out more about her. I had no reason in the past to look past my happy life in the Van De Camp home.

There were several interesting news stories that popped up with her name in them. Back in 2002, she and a man named Fox Mulder were declared fugitives and on the run. In 2005, they were later exonerated of the crimes they had been accused of. It said that she was a doctor Georgetown Medical Center and Fox Mulder was a professor at Georgetown University.

I quickly did a search of where Georgetown was. Washington D.C.. That was a long way from home. I wondered if Fox Mulder was my dad. Looking at the media photo, I could see myself in him. But then again, my mom always said I had an active imagination.

I wondered if my birth mom would want to take care of me. Was the danger she was trying to protect me from no more? Why did she run from the law? Would she want to take me back? If not, who would take care of me? Questions upon questions filled my head.

I turned off the computer and looked out the window. God, I thought, please let this be the right thing to do.

The next day, I told my dad what I had been doing. "I think we should try to contact her and tell her what's going on," I said matter of factly.

He looked like he was going to cry. Again. "I'm sorry, Will," he said, giving me a hug. "I'm not much a father, am I?"

I shook my head. "Dad, you are the best. But, right now, you have to take care of things with yourself. Just like my birth mother did. I will always be your little boy. I love you," I told him sincerely.

We stood together for a long time, mourning for what could have been. Finally, he stepped away from me. "Ok, you can try to find the number for Dana Scully. You already know where she works. But, let me talk to her. This is something that needs to be done adult to adult."

Nodding, I went to the computer. It was easy to find the number to Georgetown Medical Center, but I had no idea which department she was in. And I couldn't find her home number anywhere. Finally, I just decided to give Dad the main switchboard number.

"Here," I said, hading him a piece of paper with the number on it. Neither of us commented on the fact my hand was shaking.

I could hear the battle raging in his head. He felt like a failure; he couldn't believe he was going through with this; he wished Mom was still here; he hoped Dana Scully loved me as much as he did. He took a deep breath as he reached for the phone. "Here goes nothing," he said mainly to himself.

He dialed the number and asked for my birth mother. He was put on hold for several minutes. We didn't speak to one another; we didn't have to. We both knew how nervous the other was. Finally, someone must have picked up. "He-hello? I'm looking for Dana Scully."

If I closed my eyes, I could hear the person speaking on the phone back to him. It was one good thing about my psychic abilities, I never had to listen to a person retell a story. "This is she," I heard the response.

"Hi, um, you don't know me, but you know my son. You see my name is Frank Van De Camp. My wife and I were the ones who adopted your son--"

"William?" she asked in amazement.

Dad looked over at me. "Yeah, William."

Despite the miles separating us, I could hear the questions running through her mind. She was worried that I had died. "Tell her I'm okay," I instructed my dad.

"Dr. Scully, he's fine. I promise you that," he said quickly. He then began to explain to her what had happened over the past few weeks. I could feel her sympathy flooding my mind; it was almost too much to take. Dad saw me and nodded for me to leave. He knew what too much emotion could do to me; one time I almost attacked my neighbor because his wife's fury was so intense, it bled off to me.

I went to the front porch and tried to block as much off my dad's conversation that I could. I sat on the swing and watched the clouds roll by. Surprisingly, I fell asleep.

"Will," my dad said at some point later, "she wants to talk to you." He held the phone to me with his hand over the receiver. "Think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," I said, putting on a brave front. I took the phone from his hand. "Hello?"

"Hi William. This is Dana Scully. Um, you can call me Dana if you want," she paused uncomfortably.

"Dana is fine," I told her. I spent the next few minutes talking to her, getting a feel for her. She was different than my mom; she thought in factual terms. My mom was always very emotional. Dana didn't seem like the kind of mom who would want to spend an afternoon decorating cookies for the boy scout meeting. The more I talked to her, the more different she seemed. My stomach started to ache. What had I done?

"So, your dad says you wanted to contact me to see if you could stay with me?" I heard her ask.

I glanced at Dad. Though he was still heartbroken at the idea of me leaving, he felt a lot better that he didn't bear the responsibility of having to raise me on his own. I had to go through with it. "Yeah, I did."

For the first time since I started speaking with her, I felt joy coming from her. "That's great. I really would love to see you. Um, can I talk to your dad? We can start making arrangements."

I handed my dad the phone. I wished my mom was still here.

Three days later, Dad drove me to the airport. This was the first time I had ever been there. It looked so...big. "You going to be ok with all those people in there?" Dad asked. He knew at times, large crowds overwhelmed me.

I gave him a brave smile as we walked in the terminal. "I better get use to it. I looked online and there are a lot of people where Dana lives."

"I'm proud of you, Will. You have shown a lot of maturity," Dad said. "You will come and visit, right?"

I couldn't hold back anymore. The past 72 hours had caught up with me. I wanted him to hug me and never let go. "Oh Daddy! Of course I will. I can stay here if you need me too."

He ruffled my hair like he used to when I was little. "You know I love you Will, but I think this is the right thing to do. You're going to be fine." After a few minutes, my flight was announced. Dad stood up and held me until my row was called. "You remember, only go with Dana, right? And call me when you get there?"

He nodded against his chest. I was going to miss him so much. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you Dad, forever and ever."

"I love you too. Now you better get going. Remember, the rest of your stuff is being shipped on Monday," he said, his throat tight with tears.

I nodded and walked on the plane. To my future.

It was a boring flight, but because I was young the flight attendant gave me an extra cup of juice along the way. When she asked who was meeting me, I didn't know what to say for a minute. Finally I said, "My family." I couldn't say mom, she was in a grave at home. Maybe someday I could, but not now.

Finally, the captain announced we were able to land. The butterflies in my stomach were back. I wonder if Dad told Dana about my abilities. Suddenly, I wished I was back on the farm, milking the cows or doing something familiar.

I was one of the first people off the flight because I was a kid. I saw my mom right away. The red hair was a give away. I saw a man next to her who I recognized from the newspaper photo: Fox Mulder. Between them, there was a boy, about three years old. I quickly scanned their minds to see who he was. Their son.

Anger flooded me. They had another kid after she gave me away? Was I not good enough for them? I clinched my fists. I could hear my mom telling me not to get mad until I knew the whole story. That was going to be easier said then done.

I walked up to them. "Hi, I'm William."

My birth mom walked closer to me. Despite the fact I was only ten, I was almost as tall as her. "Hi, I'm Dana. It is so good to see you."

The feelings of unconditional love filled my brain. Though I was still angry, it was obvious that my birth mother loved me. I gave her a brief hug. "Who are they?" I asked.

She touched the man on the shoulder. "This is your birth father, Fox Mulder. But he goes by Mulder. And this is your brother, Michael."

Michael William, she thought. She gave him my name? How many parents give their children the same name? "His middle name is William?" I asked harshly. Did she forget what she named me?

Her eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

I tapped my temple. "Didn't my dad tell you?"

It was Mulder who responded. "You will find that Scully is a bit of a skeptic, William. We named him in honor of you, not the disguise the fact you exist."

Michael chose that moment to attach himself to my leg. "Hi brother!" he said happily.

I looked down at this toddler who was grinning at me. Though I might have issues to resolve with my birth parents, I wouldn't take it out on him. "Hi Michael," I said. I glanced back up at Mulder, who had his arm around Scully. "We need to talk."

We all went back to their town home and Dana put Michael down for his afternoon nap. She joined Mulder and me at the kitchen table. "You wanted to talk?" she asked softly.

I nodded. I had taken time on the ride home to come up with questions. I could have just searched their minds, but I wanted us to all be on equal footing. "How did you have Michael? I remember thoughts of when I was a baby how you thought I was a miracle child."

Dana shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you can recall that. But, yes, you are our miracle baby. I don't know if you know what this is, but we had Michael with a surrogate. That's when another woman carries a child for someone who can't have one on her own."

"So you didn't have another baby?" I don't know why but that made me feel good for some reason.

"No, we tried, but Dana wasn't able to get pregnant again. But Michael is her and my boy, just like you are our son," Mulder explained. "He just got here a different way."

"Can he read minds like I can?" I asked. Part of me thought it would be cool knowing someone else who could do what I do and the other side of me wanted it to be something unique about me.

"Not as far as we can tell. It seems that you were the one chosen to have this gift," Dana answered. "Well, you and Mulder."

Images of a weird looking rock popped in their minds. "It's a long story," Mulder said. "But, feel free to snoop in my brain all you want. You're not the first person in there."

I laughed a little. I liked my birth parents. Mulder was funny while Dana was serious. Though I had only been with them a little bit, they seemed right for each other. Like Mom and Dad.

Dana looked at me in the eye, interrupting my thoughts. "Are you ok with all of this? Your whole life is changing."

I knew it was going to be hard, but I felt like this was where I needed to be. "Yeah, I think I'm going to be alright."

Six Months Later

"Hey Mikey!" I called. "This one is for you!" I pulled the present from under the tree and handed it to my little brother. He ran up and grabbed it out of my hands.

While he was busy looking at his new monster truck, I glanced around the room at my family, both new and old. My adoptive dad flew out at my insistence yesterday and is staying for a couple of days. In the corner is Dana, who I now call MoMo because I already had a mom but wanted to call her something special, and Mulder, who I call Pops, much to his delight and MoMo's annoyance. Right in front of me is my little brother, who I completely adore.

He is always making me laugh and admires me so much. On the couch is my Aunt Tara and Uncle Bill. Their three children are sitting on the floor next to them. In the kitchen is my grandma who is with my parents' old boss, Walter, his wife and their two month old. I never realized how small babies were. Or how boring their thoughts were.

The past few months were not perfect, but they have made me a better person. I have grown from a terrible tragedy. I learned how to move on in life without forgetting the past. Pops said that is one of the most valuable things a person can learn in life.

Mom always used to tell me that God has everything happen for a reason. There were times along the way that I wasn't sure why He would put one little boy through so much, but in the end, I'm thankful for the blessing He had given me: my whole family.

The End

Ok, the elements for the story were:

- Set your fic after Existence; how long after is up to you so make the story post-series or AU after season 8. CHECK:)

- Mulder and Scully have another baby, this one a boy too CHECK:)

- Tell us how it was possible to conceive this second miracle baby. CHECK:)

- Tell us how William feels about being a big brother. Happy? Jealous of his little brother? CHECK:)

- Someone else in the X-Files universe has a child too. Tell us who. (Reyes, Skinner, one of the gunmen, Marita?) CHECK:)

- This baby boy is different in some way from William. How? CHECK:)