Title: A Man Who…: Falling to Pieces

Author: DC Luder

Disclaimer: FM, DS, MS, WS belong to them crazy CC and Co. out in LA.

Summary: Where did Will go?

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On most weekends, Mom and Dad let me watch a few TV shows. I always tuned into to X-Men and Batman cartoons and when Dad was home, he would sit and watch sports with me. Mom sometimes did but it was different when it was her. During the week, I had to do school work first, then I could watch one show each night. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I had soccer practice and I missed out on anything that was on. I made up for the loss on weekends, but my parents usually kept track of me, making sure my "brain was rotting away" like they always thought it was.

But after watching two back-to-back episodes of Batman and then half of a college football game, I was a little worried.

I pushed my sleeves down and rolled off of Mom and Dad's bed, where I had been huddled beneath the blue quilt. After opening the door, I peeked into the hall and tried to listen.

Mom and the bald guy had been talking in the kitchen when I came up the stairs. Another guy Mom knew from when she was an agent. It was kind of weird. Everyone coming back all of the sudden. I didn't mind Mulder, he was pretty cool at breakfast. This other guy looked kind of mean though, but maybe he was tired. I knew I was always cranky when I had to travel a long ways.

But as I stood there, holding my breath, I heard nothing.

I took a few steps down the hall, my feet quiet on the carpet.

Still nothing.

Then something.

A muffled noise, like through the wall. It was a door opening and then closing. Footsteps. Then Dad's voice, "Dana, what's wrong? What happened?"

Now I was pretty good at listening to people and figuring at what they were feeling like that day. Any kid does. It's practically an art form and a necessary one for kids who want to get things. I moved quickly down towards the stairs and made my way down to the kitchen where Dad's voice was coming from.

And the sound of Mom crying.

Dad had sounded scared when he had asked what had happened. Now I knew why.

Did the man hurt Mom?

No, he seemed okay, not mean or anything. And Mom knew him so why would he hurt her? Then again, Mom knew Mulder and he was a really nice guy but he had still made her cry that first night he came.

I peered into the kitchen, trying to stay as much hidden behind the wall as possible. Mom and Dad were on the floor, hugging and leaning against the counter. Mom was facing away, shaking and Dad had his arms wrapped around her tightly and was kissing her head.

He had never made her cry.

He looked up and spotted me before I could duck. "Will, kiddo?"

I stood in the doorway and watched as Mom sat up and wiped her face. I took a few steps onto the linoleum and asked, "Mom, you okay?"

"I'm fine sweetie, I burnt my hand on the lasagna dish."

I saw the potholders lying next the plate. Must have been really hot to go through them.

It was then that I noticed the bald guy was gone, but I decided not to ask, in case it would upset Dad. He didn't seem to like any of these new visitors, especially when he punched Mulder.

I suddenly wanted to ask if he was coming to dinner, but then Mom started to stand and so did Dad. They both faced me, Dad was quiet and tried to look happy, but Mom was biting her lip to keep from crying again. "Will, honey, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.

"Sure. Can I get a juice box?"

She smiled and nodded. As they walked into the living room, I scanned the fridge and found a Fruit Punch Capri Sun pouch. After stabbing in the straw and a few sips, it was gone and I tossed it in the trashcan beneath the sink. Then, I walked into the living room and hopped on the couch across from Mom and Dad. He still had an arm around her.

Protecting her almost.

"Will, when I lived down in Washington, I was………" Mom paused and looked at Dad. He nodded and she continued, "Will, Mulder was more than my partner."

Of course, he was the coolest friend anyone could have, even a kid, I thought to myself. I nodded, even though I really didn't see where any of this was going. That usually happened but I had learned that by nodding and getting through these dumb lectures was a lot easier than trying to sit through even more explanations.

Mom sighed and then spoke again, quieter this time, "Will, Mulder and I were in a relationship, like I am with Dad."

"You were married?" I asked.

"Not quite, but we loved each other very much. We still do in fact," Dad flinched at her comment and took his arm away from her. She bit her lip again and then said, "In fact we wanted to have a family, but then Mulder was kidnapped, and he was gone for a long time. So long that we all thought he was never coming back."

"So you came here, right? And met Dad," I said, trying to keep the story moving.

"Right, but there was something in between me leaving Washington and coming here. Something I've never told you, Will. You see, after Mulder was taken, I found out that I was going to have a baby. That I was going to be having you."

"I don't understand, how could you have me before you met Dad?" I asked, now completely confused. I was no expert on babies, but from what I had seen from cousins to my friends' families, all babies were in a mom's stomach and all of those mom's lived with the kid's dad's. And if she hadn't even met Dad before she found out about me…

"Will, there's a reason why I found out before I met Dad. You see--," the tears had returned and had begun to fall down her cheeks, "Will, your real father is actually Mulder."

Now I was seriously lost.

My best friend from school was Dave Kelly. We liked all of the same things and we even looked alike, sort of. His mom and dad had gotten divorced when we were four and for a long time Dave lived with his mom. Then last year, a guy came to live with him and his mom, someone completely different from the dad who raised him, someone he had never met. Next Spring his mom was marrying this guy and he would become Dave's step-dad. Weird, but most things about adults were.

So if I had never met Mulder before, did that make him…

"Is Mulder my step-dad?"

"What?" Dad asked, his voice was weak and different.

"Like Dave's step-dad."

"Oh, Will, no, kiddo, what Mom's trying to explain is that really, I'm your step-dad, and Mulder is your real dad."

I went quiet, out of sadness more than confusion. A million thoughts flashed in my mind, countless variations of Dad leaving and me never seeing him again. I felt tears in my eyes as I said, "But I don't know Mulder. I only know you."

Dad got up and sat on the couch next to me. I crawled into his lap and threw my arms around his neck. I fought the tears as hard as I could but I felt my face grow wet as I wept into his shirt. He rubbed my back like he always did when I was upset or hurt and whispered in my ear, "I know, Will, I know. It's okay."

I mumbled, "Don't go away like Dave's dad did. Please."

"Will, I won't, you know I'll always be here," he replied as he faced my mom.

I looked as well, to see her tears had returned. She was over next to me within a second; her arms wrapped around both me an Dad. I let go of Dad and looked at her as she kissed my forehead.

As I settled down, Dad released me and roughed my hair a bit. I glanced back at him to see he hadn't cried a drop but he still looked sad. Mom let me go, but kept a hand on my back. Dad asked, "Do you like Mulder?"

I nodded, not sure what to say to that. Not only had I found out that I have a different dad, but the one I had always had wanted to know how much I liked the new one. I figured the truth was fine, "He likes kid's food, and he has a cool car. He's funny too, for a grown up."

Mom laughed, "Honey, the more you'll get to know Mulder the more you will see him as a really tall kid instead of a grown up."

I looked over at her, "Really?"

"Really."

"Mom, is Mulder going to live with us?"

"No, honey, he's not. Actually, I really don't know what we're going to do with him."

The doo bell rang suddenly and Dad stood and walked quickly to answer it before it rang again. Mom wiped my face with a tissue she retrieved from the end table and asked me if I had any questions. I shook my head and leaned against her shoulder, my eyes fixed on the hallway. I listened to my dad talking quietly and then nothing.

Focus, Will. You're a full-blooded FBI agent, for crying out loud.

Footsteps on the hardwood floor. Two sets of footsteps.

My dad paused at the doorway but even behind his tall form I saw another person.

Dressed in dark jeans, a black shirt and a leather coat.

An older man.

An older FBI man.

My Dad.

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"I made this!"

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