Old Soul

Everyone assumed that the offspring of Mulder and Scully would be exceptional. At first these extraordinary qualities put mother and child in danger. When the baby was born without a glowing red finger and asking to "phone home," everyone chimed in to safely proclaim that William Samuel Mulder-Scully was the most exceptional baby around.

Surely no one's eye's were bluer. No one's cries as harmonic. No one's smiles as bewitching. Like most first time parents, Scully, and particularly Mulder, basked in their child's uniqueness and superiority over other babies. In the pediatrician's waiting room, Mulder's eyes would narrow in on all the other little bundles, confident that none of them possessed as much wavy black hair or as solid hand-eye coordination that little William displayed at one month.

Mulder was convinced his son was bound for greatness. Supreme Court Judge. NBA star. The greatest musical talent since Zeppelin. There was so much potential in this little bundle of joy. William could be anything. Mulder had no idea that his child was already somebody.

Despite their agreement that William was perfect, Mulder and Scully could not help recognizing that their child was cranky. He seemed to cry for no reason. Fed and dry, he would lay in his crib, face turning a deep red, arms and legs flailing wildly. In this state he could not be soothed by Scully or Mulder. In fact it was almost as if he recoiled from their touch, beating his tiny fists against their bodies. Exhausted, they would take turns rocking, bouncing and cooing to him, but everything they tried only seemed to increase the ferocity of his screams. Scully and the pediatrician chalked this up to colic but Mulder was sure that it meant that William was born to be the center of attention and was not afraid to speak his mind, much like his father.

At his Baptism, William howled through the entire event, pausing only to vomit, twice, all over Godfather Walter's Armani suit. Agent Doggett commented that William had a helluva set of lungs. Agent Reyes announced that William's screams were a sign that he was an old soul having a hard time readjusting to life as an infant. Scully was mortified but Mulder was secretly pleased that his son was clearly protesting his unsolicited thrust into organized religion.

At three months, the crying jags wore off only to be replaced by a sulky sullenness. Scully relished the silence but Mulder was sure this meant the baby was bored and needed stimulation. He searched every toy store in Washington and pursued everyone online catalogue for the most educational infant toys but nothing seemed to catch William's attention. He took William for jogs in the park and parent and tot swims at the YMCA. It didn't work. Every effort was met with a blank stare or a yawn. In fact, Mulder could have sworn William actually rolled his eyes when his father sang Itsy Bitsy Spider.

It seemed that William was most content sitting on Mulder's lap while he surfed the net or lounging in Scully's lap while she watched CNN. He appeared to be captivated when Mulder and Scully discussed current events. Mulder assumed that this meant his child had a high level of intelligence, possibly at the genius level, and would not be entertained with age appropriate and juvenile antics. So he started taking William for walks in the Smithsonian, playing classical music and reading out loud from the Post.

When Scully's maternity leave ended, Mulder insisted on becoming William's full time care giver. He had purposely avoided finding a job because he didn't trust anyone else to look after William and nurture his many talents.

Ahead of Dr. Spock's schedule as predicted, William started crawling at five months. Mulder scrambled to baby proof the house but William always seemed to be one step ahead of him: discovering the cleaning products under the sink, poking his fingers in electrical outlets and escaping through the front door left open by the pizza delivery man. He seemed most cheerful when he was one step away from disaster, often giggling when Mulder whisked him away to safety. Mulder was impressed by his son's curiosity and adventurous nature but was unsure of how to handle what developed next.

When Scully was away on her first case out of town, Mulder carried William around the house, pointing out photographs of his mother and telling him that she loved him and that would be back soon. He also showed William pictures of other family members: the one of Grandma Scully holding William the day after he was released from the hospital, the family portrait of Bill and Tara Scully and their obviously inferior child Matthew, and the very special photos of William's two aunts who were watching him from heaven.

William ignored the one of Samantha but took particular interest in the photo of Melissa. He studied it for several seconds, then removed his thumb from his mouth and pointed his hand toward the photo. He closed his right fist, extended his index finger, raised his thumb and made a noise that sounded like "bang, bang."

A stunned Mulder went weak armed and nearly dropped William. He contemplated with awe the little wonder in his arms dressed in denim overalls and a N.Y. Yankee's baseball cap. The obvious display of telepathic qualities was remarkable. He had never heard of psychic ability developing in a child so young.

With William still on his hip, Mulder raced around the house digging up old photo albums, hoping that other photos provoked equally strong reactions. William placidly looked over the other photos, one arm curled around his teddy bear. He showed no reaction to the parade of dead and alive Scully and Mulder relatives immortalized on film until they came to a photo of Bill Mulder. William stared at the photo of his namesake before casually uttering a single "bang."

William's awareness of violent deaths forced Mulder to conclude that he more likely had a junior version of Clyde Bruckman on his hands than a Gibson Praise. Afraid to worry her, Mulder decided to hide his knowledge of their son's metaphysical powers from Scully, however he couldn't shield her from William's growing aggressive behavior.

One day, on a trip to the FBI to meet Scully for lunch, Mulder dropped by Skinner's office to say hello. William greeted his godfather with a rare smile, prompting Skinner to take the boy in his lap. As soon as he was seated, William reached across Skinner's desk and grabbed the A.D.'s Palm Pilot. Skinner moved to take the device out of the child's sticky hands only to have William stab him in the hand with a letter opener. William was immediately handed back to his father while Skinner sought first aid for the ruptured vein in his hand. Mulder could have sworn William smiled for the rest of the week.

William's first Christmas was spent at Grandma's house along with Scully's brother's family. At four years old, Matthew Scully towered over his eight-month-old cousin, yet he took great interest in William. He spent hours hovering over the baby, showing him all the toys Santa brought him. The boys seemed to be getting along well until an almost inhuman cry poured out of William. Mulder and Bill raced to the living room to find Matthew cowering in the corner with the beginnings of two black eyes and William sitting in his excersaucer trembling with rage, cradling his teddy bear. In between tears and hiccups, Matthew explained that he had accidently torn the left arm off William's teddy bear. William had freaked out and punched Matthew in the face. Mulder could tell that he would never hear the end of this incident from a furious Uncle Bill.

Other violent episodes followed, the most disturbing being when Mulder took William to the doctor's office for his ten-month check up. William bit the doctor who was trying to give him his immunizations and swept to the floor vials containing polio, diphtheria and tetanus vaccines. Then on the way out, William reached out of his stroller to push an elderly man in a wheelchair down a flight of stairs.

Mulder was at a lost to explain his son's aggressive behavior. He knew that intelligent children often acted out because they were uncomfortable with their peers or had a difficult time coming to terms with their high aptitudes. But these reasons shouldn't apply to a child not even a year old. Mulder speculated that William's actions were due to his frustration at not being able to express himself. Although far ahead in every other developmental stage, he had yet to start speaking. This didn't worry Mulder since he knew that it was common for speech to develop late in exceptional children because they preferred to speak immediately in full sentences.

William seemed to behave best on their daily walks to the park. He loved to throw bread to the ducks. One day they arrived at the pond to find a woman, wearing a grey trench coat and sunglasses, waiting for them by the water.

"Mr. Mulder."

"Marita?" Mulder asked, surprised to hear the voice of his former informant.

"Please be quick about this. I cannot stay long."

"What do you want?" Mulder picked William out of the stroller and held him protectively against his body. The last time he had seen this woman she had been in the company of Krycek. Who knew where she stood now?

"You asked me to come here today."

Mulder shook his head and tightened his grip on William. "I did not."

Marita's head swivelled around, eyeing the other children and parents playing in the park. "Last night you left a message on my answering machine telling me to meet you here this afternoon. You said that you had important information to give me."

"That wasn't me." Last night he had brought William to visit the Gunmen. They had spent the evening playing around with some voice modification software.

"Then I suggest you do not wait around to find out who set up this meeting and why." Marita turned on her heel to leave but stopped when William cried out to protest her departure. Marita turned back to contemplate father and son. "You're very lucky that everything has worked out to so well for you. Not everyone's been blessed with such a fairy tale ending."

"I know," Mulder said.

Marita flashed Mulder and William a bittersweet smile. "Good luck."

"You too." Mulder watched her quickly walk across the park, never looking back. When she was out of sight, he looked down to see that William had tears running across his face. Mulder concluded that William must have sensed the tension in his body when Marita appeared. Perhaps all this time William was merely reacting to the stress and horrors experienced throughout Scully's pregnancy. Hopefully William would settle down when he realized that he was loved and safe.

It would only be after the bizarre events marking William's first birthday that Mulder would be forced to acknowledge another, more disturbing, possibility surrounding his son.

"Your boy is special."

"Yes," Mulder said as he strapped a struggling William into his stroller, expecting another lecture on discipline. Mulder had just been asked not to bring William back to the playgroup after he spent the morning furiously pedaling a Little Tykes car into other groups of children.

"I can see it in his eyes."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm Irina, Katia's grandmother." The woman nodded toward a little blond girl finger painting in the corner. "I'm also clairvoyant." The woman handed Mulder her card introducing her as Princess Irina although Mulder would never have labeled the middle aged heavyset woman as a princess. "I would love to do a reading with your son. He has such an unusual energy."

"I don't know . . . " Mulder said politely, pocketing her card. Scully would kill him if she knew he had taken William to a fortune teller.

"Did anyone close to you die before your son's birth?"

Startled at the question, Mulder hesitated before answering. "My mother died over a year before William was born. But we weren't very close."

"No. Not family. Someone you worked with, perhaps?"

Mulder shook his head. "Could he be reacting to any external events leading up to his birth?"

Irina opened her arms to pick up William. Mulder shrugged and handed the baby over. "Possibly, possibly. I've known babies to respond to events or emotions that occurred well before conception but that's not what I am sensing here."

"And that is?"

"I am getting a very clear impression of your son's past life . . . " Irina looked deeply into William's eyes. "You knew each other . . . You had complimentary goals but went about things differently. There was certainly no love lost between you."

Mulder's heart seemed to rise and take residence in his throat as Irina's claims sunk in. He had barely given the violent afternoon before William's birth a second thought since it happened. He hadn't wanted to. Skinner mentioned that he had taken care of the body but Mulder hadn't wanted to know the details.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Mulder grabbed William from her arms and stuffed him back into the stroller. "Who put you up to this? Marita?"

Irina looked hurt and surprised. "I'm sorry to have upset you."

"It's impossible." It was impossible. It was unthinkable. His son was just willful, high spirited, a little hell raiser. He was just going through the terrible twos early. His son was not the reincarnation of Alex Krycek. It was impossible.

The car ride home was one of the longest ones Mulder ever experienced. Every time he glanced in the rearview mirror, he saw William was staring back at him from his car seat with a sly grin on his face. When he pulled into the driveway, Mulder was relieved to see that Scully was home early. He needed to hear her calm and sensible take on this. He needed her to tell him that he was crazy, that there was no way that any part of their son, whether it be his earlobe, baby toe or soul, belonged to Krycek.

Mulder unstrapped William from the car seat. He couldn't help cringing when William wrapped his chubby arms around him, hugging his father tightly. Then he relaxed into his son's embrace, embarrassed that he had reacted otherwise, and hugged him back. This was ridiculous. William was his son, sociopathic tendencies or not. He was not Alex Krycek.

Mulder put William on his shoulders and proudly piggybacked him into the house. Scully met them at the doorway and opened her arms for William to come to her but he refused to move from Mulder's shoulders. Mulder bent down so Scully could lift him off but William hung on tightly, his tiny fingers digging into Mulder's neck. Scully shrugged and disappeared into the kitchen mumbling something about daddy's little boy. Mulder set William down in his playpen and went to decorate the den for William's birthday party that evening.

Before he could even blow up a balloon, Mulder felt something light and fluffy hit his head. Mulder picked up the bear and placed it on the couch. He looked over to see William standing at the edge of his playpen, eyes wide and face red, pointing toward the bear. "If you cannot learn to respect Mr. Bear, he will not be your friend."

William's response was to hit Mulder on the side of his head with a rubber ball. Mulder decided to ignore William this time. His son would just have to learn that violence would not get him anywhere.

"Mullda!"

"Hey. What did you say?" Mulder asked, voice cracking with glee.

"Mullda!" William cried again, waving frantically at Mulder with both hands.

"Scully, you gotta hear this. William just said his first . . . " All of a sudden he was hit over the head with something that certainly wasn't the bear or a rubber ball. It felt like a sledge hammer. His body fell fast to the floor, his head hitting the corner of the oak coffee table. His last conscious thought was that he had to protect William and then everything faded into black.

When he awoke, all he could see was Agent Doggett's concerned face peering over him. "You're going to be fine, Mulder. Everything's okay. Can you hear me?"

"What happened?" Mulder croaked. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. "Where's William?"

"William's fine, Mulder. Thanks to you." Scully appeared on his other side. "Don't move. The paramedics will be here shortly."

"What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Doggett said. "Best near I can tell is that someone attacked you."

"By the time we got here, the den looked like a tornado hit it and all that was left was a puddle of bubbling green goo," Scully added. "You'll be happy to know that carpet you hated so much is ruined."

"I didn't see who attacked me. William and I got home from playgroup. You were here and then someone hit me."

"Mulder, that wasn't me. I came rushing home when I received a call from our home number and all I could hear was William crying."

"Scully, I didn't call you and I didn't kill any green blooded alien."

"Mulder, you've hit your head pretty badly. You probably have short term memory loss."

Mulder closed his eyes and tried to remember. When he opened them, the paramedics were there and he could hear Scully rattling off his vital signs. He felt a surge of pain spread all over his body as they lifted him onto a stretcher. He hurt like he had been in a fight but all he could remember was passing out. Could someone else have been in the house and saved him and William from a shape shifter?

"Mulder, John is going to ride with you in the ambulance. William and I will meet you at the hospital."

"Wait, wait. I want to see William."

Scully disappeared for a moment and then returned with William in her arms. William looked drained. His head lay on Scully's shoulder and he was grasping his teddy bear limply in one hand. "He was curled up beside you when we got here."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Just hungry and tired."

Mulder reached up and touched his son's leg. "He said my name, Scully. He said Mulder, clear as a bell."

"Sure he did, Mulder."

The paramedic cut in, "Ma'am, we have to get him to the hospital."

Scully leaned down to kiss Mulder on the forehead. When she stood up Mulder could see something narrow and metallic poking out of William's diaper. It reminded Mulder of the devices used to stab an alien in the back of its neck. Seeing Mulder's glance, William dropped the teddy bear and pushed the object out of sight. As the paramedics wheeled him out, Mulder could have sworn William winked at him.

No, it couldn't be possible. Could it?