#william fic

William’s Halloween costumes throughout the years, AU imagining he stayed with M&S and went on the run with them

961 words, read here on AO3

He was only a few months old for his first Halloween, but that didn’t stop Maggie Scully from going all out, buying him a little grey onesie and a beanie she embroidered big black eyes onto. Her daughter had rolled her eyes whilst taking a million and one photos of her little alien amongst Maggie’s definitely over the top decorations. This was the first time Scully had ever seen her mother go so all out, usually just buying a bowl of candy and placing a carefully carved but simplistic pumpkin on the stoop. But this year there were skeletons and cobwebs and more pumpkins than anyone could imagine inside and out of the house, aglow with tea lights. They didn’t go out anywhere, Scully couldn’t see the point, but they answered the door and William cooed and squealed as numerous bright costumes were paraded before him.

Alternative Universe | Post Apocalyptic | William Fic | No MSR.

One who can think is one who is dangerous. 

Tumblr Only | 

Remember a while ago when I said I wanted to write a fic that only had William in it, no MSR, well this is this fic (I’m not expecting this to get a lot of attention tbh). This fic is also based on Inside because I’m obsessed with the story- and the game itself, I’ve said plenty of times that I like puzzles- so this it is. I actually like the shortness of these chapters and I’ll probably write it alongside tch and the zombie au.

Tagging @today-in-fic @mypanicface

[He refuses to conform. He refuses to be another brainless zombie. He still had his memories, still wore his red jumper when they made everyone else wear grey]

- - - 

ENTRY ONE

His beating heart and quick breaths seem to echo through the forest.

William looks up at the rock he’s just jumped down from amazed that he actually made it out. Most people don’t make it this far, he found out on his way out.

He refuses to conform. He refuses to be another brainless zombie. He still had his memories, still wore his red jumper when they made everyone else wear grey. He may only be ten years old but he still remembers how the world was before this, still remembers how they killed his parents for the same crime he’s committing right now.

Only he plans on surviving.

The forest is vast and dark before him. They have probably realised he’s gone, will be out looking for him and he’ll be caught if he doesn’t move now.

Thank you so much for this prompt, anon. It got really long, so more under the cut. It may not be exactly what you asked for, but this is where the muse took me. Happy Mother’s Day to everyone! Set, of course, after MSIV. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

He's been thinking about it for weeks.

There was no question which flowers to get his mom, the woman who raised him, for Mother's Day. 16 long-stemmed red roses for every year that she was part of his life. One is missing, is reserved for his other mother, and always has been. This year she has a face and a name. The idea had been his mom's, back when he was still a child. He'd always known he was adopted and whenever he'd asked about his birth mother, his mom had said that she, too, loved him very much. She, too, deserved to be honored on this day for giving him life, for caring for him in his first year on this earth. So one rose was hers, always.

This year everything is different. The 16 roses don't find their home in a vase, in the middle of their dinner table where everyone could see them. That home doesn't exist anymore. Jackson puts them on his mom's grave now, traces her name with an unsteady finger before he rests his palm there against the sun warmed stone. He does the same for his dad, before he pushes his hands into his pockets and trots off.

Mulder, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing, asked him if he needed a ride. That was last week. Jackson declined saying he needed to do it alone. Now he wishes he'd taken Mulder's offer. Jackson climbs into his car. The single rose is on the passenger seat, waiting. This year it's just not enough. He starts the car and hopes for a flower shop along the way; Mulder and Dana live in the middle of nowhere, far away from the busy living in the city.

They told him he could stay there, too, with them. If he wanted to. These days Jackson doesn't know what he wants. He feels as if someone has thrown him into an ice cold pool, his hands bound behind his back, expecting him to stay over water. They, his birth parents, just want to help him. They give him money, call him, feed him. They care for him. Jackson does, too. He cares for them, deeply. He doesn't want to, not at all. He's tried to stay away only to find himself steering towards their house, staying longer and longer, unwilling to leave. He knows they love him, a version of him anyway. But there's a new baby coming. One they both assure him is not a replacement for him. They want him in their life, in his sibling's life. He's going to be a big brother.

The thought scares him, humbles him, too. He's always wanted a little brother or sister. Now that dream, albeit a bit late, is coming true. 

The only flower shop Jackson knows is in the mall and so he drives there even though it's a detour. He doesn't want to be late, though he fears he is going to be anyway. He should have thought about this earlier. Should have considered getting Dana a real gift and not just a single rose. She is not part of this tradition, doesn't know anything about it. The mall is packed. There are flowers everywhere, balloons, too, in red, pink and white. As he rushes through the crowds, his hands hidden in his pockets, he passes posed pictures of mothers and their children of all age groups. He's never even asked Dana if there are any of them together. Of him and her, of all three of them together as a family. 

In his rush, he almost doesn't see the baby store. His sneakers squeak as he comes to a stop right in front of a huge store window. More pink, more mothers holding babies grinning back at him. But he doesn't really see any of it this time. His eyes are fixated on what the fake baby is wearing. It might not be a gift for Dana per se, but he knows he needs to buy it. Babies gurgle and cry in the store and Jackson, stepping from one foot to the other, just wants to get out of there.

He's clinging to the onesie wondering how his little sibling will fit in there. It's that tiny. But so is Dana. Mulder, however, is not. He makes a mental note to ask Dana if she has any pictures of him as a newborn, if there's anything she can tell him. She said he could ask her whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. He's planning on cashing in on that promise and soon.

The flower shop is even worse. His nose tickles, the humid aroma too rich. He doesn't know much about flowers. Or, rather he knows nothing. He should have asked Mulder what flowers Dana likes. Jackson doesn't know. There are so many things he doesn't know about these people that he, at least in his mind, sometimes, calls his parents. He decides to go with tulips. They're beautiful, graceful and remind him of Dana.

"How about a card for your mom?" the vendor, an elderly woman, asks as he's paying, wrapping the flowers up. 

"Sure." Jackson answers uncertainly. 

"What do you want it to say?" His face feels warm as he stares at the woman. Her hands work without looking, her eyes are on him. She seems taken aback by his obvious discomfort. He can't exactly tell her about his complicated family life.   

"For mom," he croaks out. He hasn't said it yet, not out loud. Today, he thinks, is the perfect day. If it doesn't work, if somehow he decides to take a step back, he can blame it on this day. It works. Jackson smiles at her, still a bit hesitantly. 

"Your mother will love these flowers," the woman promises with a wink. Jackson nods, thanks her. It's all he can do. 

There's something on his mind as he steers towards the big farm house. He can't quite put his finger on it, can't tell what it is. Something is bothering him. He reaches far inside, relaxes. It's not Dana. She's not in distress, she's fine. So it's him.

Jackson parks the car and doesn't get out. For all he knows Mulder is watching from a window, waiting. He does these things, sometimes. Jackson takes the small onesie in his hand, feels the soft cotton against his skin. He smiles. He grabs the flowers and adjusts the card on the paper. That's it. It's the card.

It says "For mom" in beautiful gold letters, but it's not enough. Jackson rummages through his backpack in search of a pen. He doesn't even think as he scribbles words on the card, knows exactly what he wants to say all of a sudden. 

The door opens the moment Jackson gets out of the car. Mulder gives him a sheepish look and Jackson tries not to grin, but fails. 

"Hey, kid," he greets him, patting him on the back. He knows he wants to hug him. Both he and Dana always want to hug him. It's as if sometimes they're not sure he's even real.

"Hey," Jackson replies back, looking around nervously, but Dana is nowhere in sight.

"She's inside, trying to cook. I hope you've eaten already, because I can't promise that whatever she's making is edible." Mulder chuckles and his eyes fall on the gifts in Jackson's hands. He feels silly and considers hiding the onesie. Mulder gives him a smile and ushers him inside, not commenting on the flowers or the tiny garment. Jackson is thankful for that.

"Look who I found," Mulder says loudly and Dana turns around. She looks good, Jackson thinks. Happy. He doesn't know her, not really. But he feels her inside of him; she is part of him, as he is part of her. Jackson smiles and shyly walks towards her. Dana wipes her hands against the apron she's wearing. It's not hiding the small baby bump that's steadily growing. Her cheeks are pink, her lips are curled upwards in a warm smile. She doesn't hesitate and takes him into her arms, hugging him tightly and almost squishing the flowers Jackson is holding. 

"I missed you," she breathes into his hair. Jackson swallows. Dana has never been cold towards him, but this is new. Mulder is the one who is more tactile. She tends to ask him first, testing the waters before she touches him. Not today, apparently. 

"I have a gift for you," Jackson says hoping she'll let go of him. She does. Her eyes grow bigger in surprise. 

"A gift? You really didn't have to-" Jackson shoves the flowers towards her and she makes a sound he's never heard before.

"Oh Jackson." Her voice crumbles, sounds close to breaking.

"Mulder, look." Dana gently touches a finger to one of the tulips. She sniffs them, sighs happily, if a bit shakily. The card peeks out and Dana takes it. Then, without warning, she starts crying.

"I'm sorry," Jackson says, apologizes with his words and his hands, "I didn't mean to make you sad. I didn't mean to." He turns to Mulder, lost and confused. He joins them and takes Dana into his arms. He throws Jackson a look that's apologetic.

"She does that a lot lately," he says silently, glancing down at Dana and kissing her head.

"I'm sorry," she sobs, laughing and confusing Jackson even more, "it's the hormones. Thank you, Jackson. Thank you so much. I love it. I love you." He's back in her arms, sandwiched between her and Mulder.

"'For mom'", his father's deep voice says, reading from the card, "'thank you for never giving up.'" Jackson hears another sob and this time he can't even tell if it's Mulder or Dana. They're holding him tighter as if never wanting to let him go again.

"I have something else," he says, but this time they don't let go, "Another gift."

"Another one?"

Dana's eyes are red-rimmed, but she doesn't look sad. Jackson brushes a lock of hair out of his eyes. She blinks at him, still smiling, and he nods. He unfolds the tiny pink onesie and regrets it immediately. There's that sound again and before he knows what's happening, Dana is crying anew.

Mulder mouths 'hormones' at him, then hugs Dana close to him. Together they look at the garment. 

"'Mommy is smarter than daddy'," Dana says and giggles, hiccups and sobs. "It's true." 

"Hey," Mulder protests, but grins. "It really is true," he admits, looking at Jackson and putting his arm around Dana's shoulder.

"I know it's not really a gift for mo- Dana, but I thought it was cute." Jackson shrugs, blushes when he almost slips up. It's one thing to write it on a card. It's another to actually call her that to her face. Her lip quivers again and Jackson searches Mulder's face, not sure what to do.

"Please don't cry again." Both his parents laugh and he finds himself smiling, too.

"Thank you, honey. Your sister is going to love it." Mulder hauls him towards them again and this time he lets it happen, doesn't try to find a way out of it.

Jackson closes his eyes and puts his head against Mulder's shoulder as he soothes Dana, who can't stop crying. He reaches inside himself just to make sure she really isn't sad. Just hormones, nothing more. Jackson sends her happy thoughts anyway, wishes her a happy Mother's Day in his head. 

"Thank you," she whispers again and kisses his hair. She's heard him. She always does.

"How about we eat and then we talk a bit, hm? Maybe look at some pictures, too."

I didn’t edit this for quality, so there are fics long and short, good and bad, take what you like, but this is not the end. William is Scully’s and Mulder’s son. CC can kiss my ass.  [links will take you to AO3]

He’s curling his newborn baby girls in his arms when he gets the news.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mulder. There was nothing was nothing we could do to stop the bleeding. Your wife is gone.” The doctor painfully explains.

 The doctor’s words sound like they’re coming from another somewhere else, directed at somebody else. As Mulder’s eyes lock onto the set of blue eyes staring up at him, he feels at peace. There’s no way Scully isn’t still in this world with him. He would feel it. He would feel like a part of him just died, not like everything was finally right in the world.

That’s exactly how he felt—like everything was right. For the first time in a very long time, Fox Mulder was happy. He was going to be a good father to his daughters. His daughters with Scully.

Mulder doesn’t know how long he stands in the waiting room with him daughters in his arms before the reality hits him. He thinks it’s Skinner’s hand on his shoulder that finally does it.

“Mulder.” Skinner’s stern voice penetrates Mulder’s fantasy world. Mulder can hear the heartbreak in Skinner’s voice.

He doesn’t want to believe. It can’t be true. Scully can’t be gone, not when she finally has everything she’s ever wanted.

“It’s not true. It can’t be true. Scully can’t die. She’s immortal.” Mulder says as he sucks in a deep breathe. Tears are already rushing down his cheeks.

Skinner nods to the nurses who take the babies back to the nursery. As soon as his arms are empty, his sobs get audible.

“No. It can’t end like this! Not after everything we’ve been through!” Mulder sobs.

Skinner wraps his arms around Mulder in a tight embrace.

“This time was going to be different. We were going to be a family! This was all Scully ever wanted.” He cries into Skinner’s shirt.

“How do I ever go on without her. I can’t…” Mulder says as he pulls away from Skinner.

Skinner can see that dark flash in Mulder’s eyes. He’s always known that Mulder couldn’t live without Scully or at least hope that she would come back to him.

Skinner steadies Mulder’s shoulder. “Listen, Mulder, you have two beautiful baby girls to take care of. They need you. You need to be strong for them, for Scully.” Skinner says.

Mulder nods, thinking about those two little girls. He’s never loved anybody so much in his life, and they’ve barely even been in this world a day. He would kill for them, die for them, and he will sure as hell live for them.

“I don’t even know how to take care of a baby.” Mulder says. The only experience he had with babies was the three days he spent with William. 

“You’re going to be a natural. I saw you holding them.” Skinner responds. “And I’ll be there for whatever you or my goddaughters need. You can do this Mulder.”

The rest of the day is a blur. Mulder signs so many papers that his wrist starts to hurt. He refuses to let the girls out of his sight. Katherine and Charlotte. Katie and Charlie for short. He stands outside the nursey as he makes arrangements for Scully’s funeral and somehow he ends up with a date for their baptism. He knows Scully would never forgive him if he didn’t get them baptized.

And then the words he’s been dreading to hear finally come.

“Your babies are ready to go home, Mr. Mulder.” A nurse says with a halfhearted smile.

So Fox Mulder puts his baby girls in his SUV and leaves the hospital only half a person. The drive to the Unremarkable house is quiet. The babies sleep the entire way. They’re too young to understand, to grieve, but Mulder is grieving enough for the three of them.

Walking through the door with a car seat in each hand and no Scully is the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life. What should have been a happy day is now a nightmare. This house doesn’t feel like a home, not without the love of his life.

Mulder puts the car seats down in front of the couch. The girls are still sleeping soundly, and he doesn’t want to ruin their peaceful slumber just yet. He lets himself fall onto the couch.

“What now?” He breathes out to the lonely air.

“You should probably lock the front door, to start.” A shy, yet familiar voice answers from the doorway.

Mulder looks up at the lanky teen standing in his doorway. He can tell that the boy has been crying too, and notices a duffle bag in his hand.

“How did you…” Mulder wants to finish his sentence. But he already knows the answer.

William steps inside and closes the door behind him. “I felt it. Just like she felt that I was still alive after that night on the dock.”

Any other night and Mulder would be thrilled and excited. His son was standing in front of him. His very extraordinary son.

Mulder pats the cushion next to him, and William takes the hint. He slinks down next to Mulder. Mulder’s arm wraps around William in an instant and pulls him to his chest. Will is hesitant, but he knows that Mulder needs this.

“I loved her so much, Will. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her, but it means so much that you’re here.” Mulder sobs softly as he holds him son. “I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much. You know that, right?”

William nods his head and responds after Mulder finally calms down. “Yeah, I know. I loved her too, even if I didn’t know her that well.”

Mulder fought the urge to smother his son with another hug. “You brought a bag. Are you going to stay?” Mulder asks, trying not to sound too eager.

 “Yeah, I mean, if that’s ok with you.” William responds.

“I would love that. You know, we took everything from your old room and brought it here. Just in case…” Mulder says cautiously.

“I told her that I would take care of you and my sisters.” William says. “I’ve always wanted to be a big brother.” He glances down to the twins and smiles.

It’s the first time Mulder has ever seen his son, and god it’s like looking at a teenager Scully with dark hair.

Mulder lets out a soft chuckle. “Of course Scully would use her dying breath to bring my son back onto my life to take care of me.”

“She said that you could help me control my abilities. She thinks we would make a good team.” William says shyly. “And it’s pretty lonely on the road. I think I might be ready to start over.”

Today’s @stoickovic prompt: “Paranormal” (@fictober @today-in-fic)

He’s six the first time he encounters the word, on the cover of a tabloid in the grocery checkout line. He looks it up later in his parents’ tattered dictionary.

Beyond the scope of known scientific laws and phenomena.

He remembers when he was three and his teddy bear flew across the room by itself. When he was four and afraid of the dark, and he got in trouble for turning his light on after bedtime, even though he promised he wasn’t doing it. Last year, when he started answering questions that hadn’t been asked aloud.

6) “What’s wrong?” “Nothing … I’ve just never been this happy in my life.”

He pads back into their bedroom barefoot, climbs back into bed behind her and brushes his lips on her right shoulder.

“I don’t smell coffee,” Scully mumbles, scrunching more into her pillow as Mulder scrunches closer to her, loops his arm around her waist.

“It’s being made. Along with breakfast. Our kid beat me to it. He even knows the way you like your eggs.”

“That’s because he asked me last night.”

Rolling over she pillows her head on his chest.

“And you trusted him to cook you breakfast over me?”

“I trusted him to do more than put cold pizza on a doily lined dish, put it on a serving tray and call it breakfast in bed.”

“You called that an inventive twist on tradition, Scully.”

“It was only an edible twist because of the mushrooms and green peppers.”

“Neither of those ingredients are in the omelette Will’s making you.”

“Well, I didn’t want him stepping on your toes.”

“Cute, Scully. Really cute.”

Grabbing her underwear and his Knicks shirt off the ground Scully tugs the clothing on, combs her fingers through her hair.

“So should I go get myself some cold cereal or do you think we can go halvers on that omelette?” Mulder asks, earning a look. 

“I didn’t know this breakfast was for Mother’s and Father’s Day.”

“Well technically, since it’s the end of May…we’re halfway between the two days, maybe it could be for both-”

“Mulder.” 

“Fine. Cold cereal it is.”

“No, stay, Mulder. We’ll share.”

He goes to leave the bed again but she stops him, sets a hand on his thigh.“I mean it. The brunch can count for both the days, and besides, Will was raised on a farm. I doubt country breakfasts are centered around portion control.”

“Last thing you need to worry about is portion control, Scully.”

“Well, maybe with the two of you around to go halvers with…”

Bowing her head Scully bites her lip, hopes he doesn’t hear her sniffle.

“Scully?”

She doesn’t answer, just continues toying with the hem of his Knicks t-shirt until he turns her face towards his.

“What’s wrong, Scully?”

“Nothing, I just…our son is downstairs. He’s making us breakfast. D…did you ever think that-”

“No. I wanted to. I just never thought it would.”

Shaking his head he slides an arm around her shoulder as she leans against him, sniffles again.

“Me either. I never thought we’d be this happy.”

“Yeah. I just hope we still are after we’ve eaten,” Mulder snickers, earning a swat on the chest in return.

“We’ve never sampled his cooking before, Scully. Who knows what the hell we’re getting ourselves into.”

“It’s a sweet gesture. The thought is all that counts,” she reminds. Sitting up she hastily wipes her eyes hearing Will coming up the steps. Hearing the same thing Mulder grabs his phone from his nightstand.

“Mulder…what are you-”

Day 10 for @thexmasfileschallenge: gingerbread. Tagging @today-in-fic.

Set during the revival era. William fic. 

Sometimes she stays, his mother. Tonight, though, she makes this noise; the one that William has come to learn means that she is leaving. His heart breaks, hopes crumble, and he hides his disappointment by biting into a soft, still warm gingerbread man. He looks over to the man he now knows as his father. Mulder. Whatever William's feelings are, they don't even come close to the tornado of emotions he sees on the other man's face. 

"Don't eat all of them at once," she tells them both pointing at the gingerbread, "You'll get sick." William nods but he thinks maybe she'd stay if he, or Mulder, were to get sick. 

"We won't," William promises, "are you coming over again tomorrow?" He chews slowly, watches her, and hopes he doesn't sound as desperate as he feels. 

"Of course." She answers with a soft smile. William smiles too, shyly almost, still not used to any of this. When he moved in months ago, leaving all he'd ever known in Wyoming, he thought it'd be like this; father, mother and child finally reunited after all this time. Reality, he realized soon, was different. They never talked about it, never defined what they were to each other, these two people who called each other Mulder and Scully. This was their house, now William's home, but his mother didn't live here. Not quite. His parents loved each other; a blind man could have seen that much. But they tiptoed around each other, threw each other lingering looks whenever the other one wasn't looking. William observed them like a science project for school. He felt like he was going to fail that class. 

"I'll walk you to your car." Mulder says in a voice that sounds like a sigh. Before she leaves his mother comes over to him, pauses to give him the chance to move away, but he never does. She takes him in her arms and hugs him tightly. William's eyes close as he returns the hug. He is taller than she is but in her arms he feels like a small child, loved and cherished, needed and wanted. She presses a soft kiss against his cheek and then her arms are gone and he feels cold. He sneaks over to the window when his parents walk outside. They're standing so close together that in the darkness William is not sure where one begins and the other one ends. He watches them, wonders what they talk about. Mulder presses his hand against the car door. He doesn't want her to leave either. He never does even if he doesn't say it. In this house, William has learned, so many things are never said. His mother touches Mulder's chest, kisses his mouth softly, quickly, and Mulder lets go. He stands there lost in obscurity until the darkness has swallowed the lights from her car whole. 

"Time for bed." Mulder says when he walks back inside, locking the door.

"I'm not a child, you know." William reminds him.

"You're my child, Will. You've got school tomorrow." Mulder takes one of the gingerbread men and bites the head off.

"Don't eat all of them." William repeats in what he hopes is a good impression of his mother. He's still learning. Mulder swallows visibly and William is about to apologize when his father starts laughing. 

"Don't let her hear that, Will." Mulder winks at him, ruffles his hair. With a smile on his face, William goes upstairs. He leaves his door open even though he knows that at his age it is silly. He knows it's no use tonight anyway. Whenever Dana doesn't stay over, silence reigns over this house. Sometimes Mulder watches TV, a blur of sad, tinny noises that keep William awake. Those nights, when she is not here, Mulder barely sleeps. William knows this because neither does he. He's come to depend on the low, murmured voices he hears from the living room when she does stay over. Their shared laughter, arguments that he's come to understand are nothing more than playful banter, and the way their voices contemplate each other has turned into a lullaby. A sleep aid he craves. 

Tonight feels worse. He misses Dana. It's only been a few months here with them and yet it feels like a lifetime. These people, his parents, are the puzzle piece he never knew he was missing. As he stares at the ceiling, he thinks about the question Dana asked him earlier as they made gingerbread together; a family recipe from the grandmother he'd never know. What do you want for Christmas? Dana asked him as she rolled out the dough. He had no answer. Not then. Now, he thinks, he just wants her to stay here with them, every night and day. That's his only wish for Christmas this year. Maybe he can be a puzzle piece for them, too. Maybe he can be the missing piece that puts them back together.

He hears Mulder rummaging in the kitchen and gets up himself. He is staring out the window much like William did earlier. It's as if Mulder thinks Dana will magically reappear if only he stares long enough.

"Hey." William says in greeting not wanting to startle him. Mulder turns around, surprise visible on his face. "Couldn't sleep." He mumbles before he sits down at the kitchen table. The gingerbread recipe is still there; Dana must have forgotten to take it home with her. William's finger follows the contours of the letters and wonders if this is his mother's handwriting or his grandmother's.

"You get that from me," Mulder sits down himself and William lifts his head to look at him, "I'm not a good sleeper. It's better these days but..." But not when Dana is not here. William understands. 

"I feel the same." Mulder throws him a look. "I sleep better when she's here too." 

"You do need to sleep though, Will. If you fall asleep at school your mot - Dana - will kill me."

"You can say it, you know. My mother. She is. I think of her as my mother." 

"You do?" William hears the question Mulder doesn't dare to ask; what does he think of him? Does he see Mulder as his father?

"Sometimes I feel like I remember her from... before. I dreamed about her as a child. I don't know if - do you think she'd like it if I called her mom?" 

"She'd love that, Will." Mulder's voice is heavy with emotion, breaks at the end and he covers it up by clearing his throat.

"What about you?"

"You want to call me mom?" He's grinning. Dana warned him about Mulder's particular humor, but William finds himself grinning; he loves it. 

"You know what I mean." 

"Yeah, I do. Will, if you want to call me... I'd be honored. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or think that you have to. You can call me anything. Whatever you want. I'll love it either way."

"What if I wanted to call you Fox?" William grins and picks up a gingerbread cookie in the form of the animal. Before today William didn't even know fox cookie cutters existed. Mulder takes it from him, breaks it in two and hands one half to William. 

"Maybe not that. How about some tea? Your... mom left some here." William stuffs the gingerbread into his mouth and shakes his head no. 

"Not really a fan of tea. I'll just try to sleep." Mulder nods but somehow William doubts his father will do the same. "Goodnight... dad." The word tastes like cinnamon and ginger, tastes good, he decides.