Chapter Text
December 15, 2001
Naval Ethics 101, US Naval Academy
Annapolis, MD
12:30 pm
“That’s it for today. A reminder that your final exam is next Monday at 1300. Do not be late. Class dismissed.”
A room of students in black uniforms rose from their seats in unison, their arms held stiffly at their sides, eyes staring straight ahead as they respectfully waited for Commander Bill Scully, Jr. to leave the room.
Bill was greeted with a blast of frigid air as he exited Bancroft Hall. December had arrived in Annapolis mildly enough, but now, with ten days left until Christmas, Old Man Winter was making his presence felt. The low temperatures didn’t prevent the Brigade of Midshipmen from gathering for the Noon Meal Formation, however. Two hundred midshipmen stood smartly at attention in their black winter coats on Tecumseh Court, waiting to march into the Hall for the noon meal. The daily display usually drew a sizable crowd of curious tourists, but today he noticed only a few hardy souls. The weather was certainly a factor, but the increased security after the terrorist attacks in September probably had more to do with the smaller than normal crowd.
Bill had no intention of sticking around to watch the performance; he’d spent his fair share of time marching around T-Court when he was a midshipmen twenty years ago. And Tara was making split pea soup for lunch. He didn’t want to be late for that.
“Commander Scully?” came a voice behind him. Bill turned around to see a bearded, well-dressed man standing in front of him.
“Can I help you?” The man didn’t look like a tourist; perhaps he was a visiting professor or a civilian working for the Navy.
“My name is John Byers. I’m a friend of your sister, Agent Dana Scully, and her former partner, Fox Mulder.” His manner of speaking was consistent with his well-groomed appearance, but Bill tensed at the mention of Mulder’s name; with the obvious exception of his sister and his new nephew, hardly anything good came of an encounter with someone associated with Mulder.
“What can I do for you?” His words were polite, but he was unable to keep the chilly edge from his voice.
“I’m here on behalf of Agent Mulder.” Bill’s eyes narrowed at this. “He asked me to deliver you a message.” Byers handed him a CD case.
He turned it over, examining it. It was blank. He glared at the man. “He doesn’t have the decency to call, or even email me? He uses a middleman?”
“Mulder explains everything in his message on that CD,” Byers responded, clearly uncomfortable with Bill’s tone.
Bill frowned and looked back down at the CD in his hand. He hadn’t believed Dana when she’d told them that Mulder had left the FBI and taken a special assignment overseas, even after the attacks in September. But he knew enough of his sister’s history with the man to know that asking her where Mulder had really gone - and why - would be a futile effort. He’d adopted his own personal policy of don’t ask, don’t tell: the less he knew about the whereabouts and doings of Fox Mulder, the better for all involved. To have this stranger approach him here, in a place that was - for all purposes - his home, on behalf of Mulder, threw him off-balance. He glanced back to Byers, trying to gauge his role in all of this.
“I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow to relay your response to him,” Byers said, clearly still nervous, but confident enough to deliver his final line. He turned and walked quickly away before Bill had the chance to protest.
******
December 15, 2001
Scully Residence
36 Upshur Road, US Naval Academy
8:34 pm
Bill closed the door to his study and sat down at the computer desk. From his briefcase, he pulled out the CD the man, Byers, had given him. He tapped the corner of the CD case thoughtfully on the desk.
He’d always admired Dana’s self-sufficiency and fierce intellect - both proud hallmarks of generations of Scully women. He therefore found her dogged loyalty to Mulder and his crazy quest to prove the existence of little green men difficult to fathom. Still, he had to admit that the love his sister had for the man was genuine, as much as it baffled him; he’d watched as she buried Mulder (or what everyone thought was Mulder; it was too fantastic for him to believe) over a year ago, only to have him mysteriously resurrect months later. That episode was more than enough to convince Bill of her devotion to the man. Whether Mulder was worthy of that devotion was another matter entirely.
That Mulder was the father of his nephew Bill took as a given. When he, Tara, and Maggie went to visit Dana a few days after William’s birth, it was simultaneously the happiest and saddest he’d ever seen his sister. The joy she took in her newborn son was offset by the jarring announcement that Mulder had left for an “overseas assignment” with the Bureau. He’d nearly gone through the roof when she’d told them.
“Abandonment” would’ve been a better term for what Mulder had done, he’d thought at the time, but their mother - her perception honed from years of heated family arguments - had taken him aside before he’d had the opportunity to tell Dana that she and William were better off without the sorry son-of-a-bitch around.
“Wherever Fox may have gone, I know he did it for the good of his family,” Maggie had told him, gripping his arm with an intensity that matched the fierceness of her voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this angry. For a moment, he was reduced to a ten year-old being shamed by his mother.
“He left in order to protect them,” she’d continued. “You, of all people, should know what that’s like. Dana needs our support right now, Bill.”
Bill inserted the CD into the drive. A few moments later, a man’s face appeared on the screen. It had been nearly a year since Bill had last seen Mulder, but behind the unkempt beard and long hair, he recognized Mulder’s hazel eyes and prominent nose. Mulder began to speak.
“Commander Scully, I realize you may question my motivation in contacting you, given our history. You probably think that I have abandoned my son and your sister. I can’t blame you for feeling that way. There are times when I think that maybe I have. Despite whatever misgivings you may harbor towards me, I want you to know that I left out of a deep love for them and concern for their safety. Given the nature of the danger I currently face, I am unable to return home to them at this time - at least not permanently. I do not know how long this separation will last, but it weighs heavily on my soul. I imagine you know a thing or two about long absences, in your line of work.” Mulder paused and fixed the camera with a long stare. Bill shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glad that his mother wasn’t around to hear her words echoed by Fox Mulder.
“Dana and William are all that matter to me in this world. They are the only family I have left. I long to see my son, to hold him close, and I ache for Dana’s embrace. I come to you, at Christmastime, asking for your help. I have a small window of time to see them, but for the safety of everyone involved, it must be done secretly, preferably outside of DC.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed. He knew Mulder was paranoid, but this was outright ridiculous.
“The man who handed you this message - John Byers - is trustworthy. You may give him your response to this message. I understand if you refuse, and would not hold such a decision against you. But in the spirit of the season, I’m asking you, as a father, and as a man who loves and cares deeply for your sister: for one night - even for just one hour - please help me see them.”
The video ended, leaving Bill staring at a blank screen. A part of him wanted to throw up his hands and declare Fox Mulder certifiably insane. But Mulder’s genuine sincerity and willingness to be vulnerable made him hesitate. Not only did it recall his mother’s words to him, it also echoed a conversation he’d had with his father on his wedding day years before. “Having a family is challenging even under the best of circumstances, but the Navy makes it doubly so,” Bill Sr. had told his son. “Take every opportunity you have to be with yours. Even if it’s just for one day.” Three months later, his father was dead.
Bill frowned pensively, imagining what it would take to get Mulder to Dana. Before the September attacks, he could’ve driven Mulder onto the Yard by car, but now, ID checks were mandatory for all passengers - which flew in the face of the “secrecy” Mulder was requesting. As much as he wanted to chalk up Mulder’s entire scheme to a paranoid fantasy, he couldn’t risk the lives of Dana, William, and his own family.
No, he thought, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He’d either have to have Dana meet Mulder outside the Academy grounds, or bring him in another way.
His computer chimed, alerting him to a new email in his inbox. It was from Charlie.
Hey there, Big Brother! Wanted to give you the bad news first, before Mom hears it and gets all bent out of shape. They’ve extended my squadron’s deployment through January, so instead of fighting with you over who gets to carve the turkey on Christmas, I’ll be dropping a payload of ‘Season’s Greetings’ on those Taliban sons of bitches . I’m sorry that I won’t be there with the family. Give everyone my love - especially my new nephew.
- Charlie
Bill sighed. He was sorry to be deprived of Charlie’s carefree antics and bawdy aviator humor this year. But even without the recent invasion of Afghanistan by US forces, the chances of Charlie making it home for Christmas had been a long shot: F-14 Tomcat squadrons had one of the most intense deployment schedules in the Navy.
Later that evening, after they’d put the kids to bed, Bill told Tara the news about Charlie, then asked, “What do you think about inviting Dana and little William for Christmas?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together happily. “You mom will be thrilled, especially now that Charlie can’t come. I’m surprised you didn’t bring it up sooner.”
“I was just reminded of it today,” he said, avoiding his wife’s eyes and searching for an excuse. “I got so caught up in the end of the semester and grading papers, I guess I lost track of the calendar.”
It worked: Tara smiled and shook her head at her husband’s apparent absent-mindedness. “Oh, by the way,” she said, getting up from the couch. “I was going to drop off your extra set of dress blues at the tailor to get your Commander’s stripe sewn on.”
Bill looked up to see Tara holding his uniform jacket. His spare winter uniform still sported the striping of a Lieutenant Commander, even though he’d put on Commander nearly six months ago. And that’s when the idea came to him. He rose and took the jacket from her.
“Thanks, sweetie, but it can wait until the Brigade is back from the holiday break. No rush.”
******
Byers was waiting for Bill outside of Bancroft Hall the following day.
“Tell Mulder that I’ll meet him at 0630 at the Seven-Eleven outside of Gate 8,” he said. Byers nodded in the affirmative.
“And one more thing,” Bill said, before Byers turned to leave. “Tell him to lose the beard and cut his hair. The Navy has standards.”