Curveballs 3
7.
“But William says he loved it, and I will, too!” Fox Jr. whines.
“I know, sweetie.” Scully smooths the reddish-brown hair on her younger son’s head. “But I’m not sure if you’re old enough to be watching Sherlock.”
“William watched it when he was my age!”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
That’s actually the whole reason why they’re having this conversation.
Scully has never thought she’d be one of those parents. Sure, she would care about what her children were watching and would pay attention to what kind of friends they were keeping, just so she could offer timely guidance and the occasional nudge along the way, but she has not envisioned herself going on the Internet and researching about TV ratings on the shows her sons watch—or want to watch.
“Fox,” Scully coos at the boy affectionately. She knows how to work with a pouty Mulder, no matter at what age. “When William watched Sherlock, he was already 9 years old. And how old are you now?”
“Eight and a quarter.” Fox answers proudly. “I’ll be nine next, and sooner if you round up by the month.”
This child has her love of math and his father’s knack for finding loopholes. Why has she expected anything different?
“Yes, honey, you will, but I’ll have to say you need to wait.”
“William says Sherlock is cool, and I’ll love it.”
Pouty baby looks like he’s six now.
“Yes, honey, I know, but you and William are different people. You are not his clone.”
Scully would not have been so sure about this a year ago. Though Fox Jr. looks up to and idolizes everything his big brother does (which is a little strange because William’s essentially a possibility of how he would be in the future), Scully and Mulder have noticed many things that indicate the two of them to be different boys—well, maybe not night-and-day different, but different nonetheless.
If anything, Fox Jr. is taller and chubbier than Jackson when they were the same age.
Fox Jr. has read a whole lot more than Jackson. Fox Jr. is also growing up with an actual brother who loves him and looks out for him. Scully is sure that Fox Jr. will not grow up to be another William.
Take that, genetic determinists.
She almost itches to write an article on this, but how many cans of worms will that open?
Of course, she can’t seem to ignore some cases she and Mulder worked on in the past, cases like Project Eve and what happened in Aubrey, Missouri. She wonders sometimes whatever became of Tina and Cindy and BJ Morrow’s baby.
If her life were a TV show, what would the rating be? For mature audiences, that’s for sure. Especially that horrifying case in Home, Pennsylvania. She had nightmares after wrapping that one up.
Suddenly, Scully’s not so sure about her stand on the long debate of nature versus nurture like she was just a few moments ago. Thinking about the Peacock Family makes her shudder and hold her son in her arms. What a scary world they truly live in, with so many human monsters and evil minds…
“Mommy,” Fox leans his head against his mother’s shoulder, “I can watch it with William. Or with you and Daddy.”
“I’m sorry, baby, I don’t think so.” She breathes into her son’s hair and smells the sweet almond scent of his shampoo. Her baby boy is still using shampoo for kids and pear-scented stinky-out body wash, and he wants to watch a show with violence and nudity and heavy drug use.
“Baby, I’m not doing it to be mean. You understand, don’t you?”
“Daddy said he watched some strange show when he was a boy, too, so that’s why he asked me to ask you.” Fox supplies.
“What did he watch?” Scully was intrigued. Clearly Fox had gone to Mulder first, and Mulder had sent him to her because he couldn’t be sure he’d be making the right decision.
Fox tilts his head to the right, thinking hard. “Something called… ‘The Twilight’?”
“The Twilight Zone?”
“Yep.”
“I think they just swear a whole lot on that show.”
“Mommy, how old were you when you watched The Exorcist?” Fox pipes up.
“Hum…” Scully quickly calculates in her head. “Almost 10.”
“But would you let me watch the Exorcist when I’m ten?”
Again, Scully contemplates about her son’s question. She suddenly recalls that boy in Virginia. Charlie with the dead twin brother Michael. She almost died in their house. Charlie would be over 30 now. And whatever became of him and his family? Did he ever move on from being the boy who was possessed? Could his parents and granny ever grow to look at him like a normal boy? Would the Căluşari members really leave him alone? Did he receive any kind of therapy for those traumatic events?
She wants to keep her sons away from the darkness as much as possible.
“I don’t know, baby. You’re mommy’s first kid. William came to us all grown up already. Maybe when you’re 10 and I take a look at you and think you’re ready.”
She sighs and rubs her son’s back, “You wanna know a little secret?”
The boy nods.
“I cried the first time watching the Exorcist because it was so scary. I covered my eyes with my hands and watched it through my fingers. And I was so scared afterwards that I made your Aunt Missy go with me to the bathroom at night every time.”
Fox chuckles in the way that’s so identical to his father, teasingly yet full of empathy at the same time.
“So give Mommy a little more time to figure this out, m’kay?”
The boy nods again.
“In the meantime, I’m sure Daddy will watch his old Twilight Zone videos with you, and we can read the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes together. Does that sound like something you’d want to do? Do we have a deal?”
Fox Jr. holds out his hand to shake on it. “Deal, Mommy.”
8.
Bill Scully Jr. is not happy.
This is his party, and he can be angry if he wants to be. He has been away for many months, and this is a Scully family reunion. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, for Charlie’s finally coming to family functions again.
But no. Charlie's flight was cancelled.
He then got in an argument with Dana over cakes. Tara told him to apologize to her, but he'd rather be out here in the yard, getting a moment's peace away from his family.
They weren't really arguing about the cake, which was baked by Dana's sons. Her sons, Bill scoffed with contempt. The older one always looked at him as if he could read his mind, and the younger one, though sweet, was just like a miniature Fox Mulder with long red hair.
Both Dana's boys have long hair. What's up with that? News flash: the pandemic has been over for a while now, and you can visit the barbers again. Heck, get Dana to cut your hair for you, God knows she saw Mom did it enough times to do it for her boys. Hell, if memory served him right, she gave Fox Mulder his haircuts while they were hiding all those years.
A stupid ass haircut, he thought.
His boys always had buzz cuts. His boys have been carrying on the Scully name and are in the service. Oh, yes ma'am. He told Dana that William should, too.
"Dad would be proud," he had barked at her.
And Dana almost lost it. They weren't arguing over cakes. Nope, it was always the same thing with her. Career choices. Friend choices. Life choices. It's so difficult being her big brother.
How can William Scully III not be a Navy man? Bill feels like kicking something. The truth is, he likes Dana's boys. Sure, they are both geeky, which they most likely got from their father. But, they are polite, kind, respectful, and a lot sweeter to their mother than his boys ever were to Tara. Why can't he just be good old jolly Uncle Bill to them?
He hears footsteps approaching and remains silent, with his back pressed to the juniper tree. He hopes to stay unnoticed.
"I just..." Words spoken with frustration, "I don't think Uncle Bill likes me very much."
Eavesdropping is not an honorable thing to do, Bill thinks, but I'm just overhearing this.
"William, that kind of runs in the family," an amused voice replies. "It's the curse of being a Mulder."
"I take it he didn't like you very much?"
"No, can't say he did. But I can't blame him."
"How'd you deal with it?"
"Didn't care. I loved your mom, and nothing was going to change that. Not the government, not the alien abductions, not the mutant monsters, and not even the big brother from hell would make a difference. His friendlier now, your Uncle Bill."
"Moose picked it up, too. He said his hair is making people not happy."
Moose? Good old Fox Mulder avoids being called Fox, but not only did he name his son Fox, his son has another animal nickname?
"Well, why don't you check if you guys’ hair are long enough to donate now?"
Donate?
"I'll get Mom to braid it and cut it. You can film it if you want, but try getting more shots beside Mom this time."
The amused tone again: "Now you know why I never have photographic proof for our cases. I always used up the film taking photos of your mother."
Bill hears the two men laugh heartily, and wonders if he had ever joked with his boys the way Mulder does with his.
"I don't think he's out here. The garage?"
"Maybe."
Standing up from his spot, Bill Jr. looks at the two dark-haired men walking into the house. Punk-ass Fox Mulder and his little Fox Mulders, he chortles softly. I think I'll give being good old jolly Uncle Billy a try.
9.
She watches her three men crossing the threshold of their humble abode and wonders, why are they here?
The shortest and the sweetest one of all is leading today. He’s holding his grass-stained and muddy sneakers in his right hand and his wet socks in his left. Fox Jr., the nano-Mulder, has been obeying the no-shoes rule surprisingly well. I like how the floor makes me toes feel, he says, and Scully finds her baby boy so adorable that sometimes she can’t believe she and Mulder made this kid.
Fox Jr. is trailed by his older brother, who of course not only forgets the shoes-off rule but is also playing an optical illusion joke on his mom by making it appear like he’s dripping wet. Scully studies the two boys and quickly concludes that Fox Jr. had most likely stepped into a puddle, which explains the wet shoes and socks, but his entire outfit is dry above his ankle. She has also calculated that, if they’re home now, they’ve left the soccer field long before the rain came down.
She watches in silence without moving a muscle, with her legs still up on the coffee table and a good mystery novel in her lap. So much for a quiet afternoon without the Mulder men. It has ended way too soon today.
The door slams shut, and mega-Mulder comes in. For whatever reason, Mulder is carrying their dog, Pip, in his arm. The pooch looks like a damsel in distress; everyone knows Pip’s the biggest drama king in this family.
“Mommy!” Fox Jr. wails, “We’re home!”
“Mom?” William calls out, too, “We need your help. Where are you?”
Scully wonders if she can get away by feigning sleep. She really wants to finish this chapter. She’s picked it up five times this month, and every time, she has had to re-read it from chapter one. As a child, she could never understand why people would buy books if every book is available at the library, the truest rule kept by a navy kid like her is to never be weighed down by books. Little Dana thought one should only buy the favorite ones.
Now, as an adult and a mother, she has found out that she could never finish reading a book before having to return it to the library.
Scully used to spend afternoon after afternoon in the world of her current novel. Sure, having a husband and two boys and a dog is exactly what she wants, but…
Sometimes she just wants a little time. A little girl time. A little me time.
“Mooooooooooooom!” Mulder hollers. “Where are you, Mooooooooom?”
There’s her cue. She doesn’t even bother to place the bookmark inside the book before standing up from Mulder’s ugly lemon-yellow lazy-boy that somehow always makes her hungry for a lemon custard Krispy Kreme.
“Right here!” She calls.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Nano-Mulder calls.
“Mom!” Micro-Mulder cries.
“Woof! Woof!” Monster-Mulder barks.
“Mooooooooooooooooooooooooom!” The Mega-Mulder echoes.
She walks toward her three men and the real baby of the family. “Who died now?”
“Practice got cancelled, Mom.”
“Mommy my shoes are wet.”
“Moooooooom I’m hungry!”
“Haaa-haaa-haaa-haaa.”
She looks at the three helpless humans and a panting non-human as four pairs of puppy-dog eyes stare at her.
“William Honey, there’ll be a game next week. Meanwhile, you can help me mop the floor with all the energy you have stored up for practice. Baby Fox, leave your shoes outside and go take a shower. We are not going anywhere, so you can put on your pjs. Pip Boy.” Scully picks up the pooch from her husband and kisses the top of his nose before putting it on the floor, getting three licks in return.
“Mooooooooooooom,” Mulder whines.
“It’s Scully for you.” She says to her husband while wondering if she’s actually a copier that manages to produce offspring so akin to the original.
Mulder pulls her into a hug and kisses the top of her head.
“We’re home early, Mom.”
“I’m not trying that again, Mulder.” She deadpans.
“Why not?” There are those puppy-dog eyes again. Mulder waltzes her into the kitchen. “It’s cute.”
“What’s cute?” She asks as he twirls her in front of the fridge. She’s impressed that Mulder remembered to take off his shoes today.
“When you call me Daddy like the kids do.”
“They don’t call you Daddy.” She sways and trots with him. “Well, not both of them. Give it a year or two, Fox won’t either.”
Mulder pulls her closer and presses his body against her. She can smell the grass and the rain on his skin. “That would be a very sad day for me, Mom.”
“We’re not going to become one of those couples, Mulder.” She lets him spin her twice before pulling her so close that if they were dancing in a high school auditorium, the silver-haired algebra teacher would come at them with a ruler soon.
“It makes your heart flutter,” he serenades, “when I call you Mama.”
“Oh, shut up, Daddy.”
Mega-Mulder gathers her close and murmurs sweet nothings to her ear while the Nano-Mulder is singing off-key in the shower and the Micro-Mulder is copying his parent by dancing with the Monster-Mulder, and Scully knows how it feels to be utterly loved by all the Mulders.
----- thanks for reading. tagging @today-in-fic, thanks.
