TITLE: Going Solo
AUTHOR: Suzanne Feld
E-MAIL: wildwing@feldnet.org
DISTRIBUTION: I'll send to Gossamer; anywhere else is fine, just let me
know 
RATING: PG
CATEGORIES: S, R
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully
romance, William, character death.
SPOILERS: Existence, small for Momento Mori.  This story begins after William's birth
SUMMARY: A/U: What if Mulder hadn't gotten to Scully in time?
Disclaimer:
These characters are not mine, never were, I just borrowed them for a
while for non-profit use.  They're back home where they belong by now,
I'm sure.
Author's Notes: I have no idea where this story came
from.  Regardless, it was 
interesting to work on as I've never written anything about Bill before
and I had to 
try and get inside his Mulder-hating head to do this.I no longer have
a beta reader/editor/etc.  I'm sure it shows, so advance apologies.
All of my stories can be found here:
http://web.mac.com/wildwing1/Wildwing/Fan_Fiction.htmlUsername: 
guestPassword:  shipper 

Going Solo
Rated PG
By Suzanne L. Feld

Just yesterday the PCR results had come back and shown, definitively, 
that I was indeed William's natural father.  Even had that not been 
the case I would still be here, holding a nearly-naked screaming 
infant and totally baffled as to what to do to make him stop crying.

William and I had been roommates for exactly eight days at this point. 
For the past seven Margaret Scully had been staying here, showing me 
how to care for a newborn, but last night she'd pronounced me ready to 
go solo.  I had also thought myself ready to handle the baby on my 
own, but that turned out to be a gross miscalculation.
 
He'd gotten up normally for his midnight and three a.m. feedings, but 
when he woke me again at five-an hour early-I knew something was wrong 
by the pitch of his cries.  Usually when I began to change him he'd 
quiet down, whimpering and chewing on his fist if he could find it, 
but this time the loud shrieks continued unabated as he kicked and 
writhed, making it extremely difficult to get the new diaper on.  
When he wouldn't take the bottle I knew something was wrong, and 
wracked my eidetic memory for the many things that Maggie had imparted 
to me over the last week.

Nothing seemed to match the symptoms and I picked William up without 
re- dressing him, cuddling his warm, firm little body against my bare 
chest and jouncing him lightly.  I tossed a burp cloth-really a cloth 
diaper-over my shoulder out of sheer habit.  It seemed sometimes when 
I was cleaning up that Will threw up as much, or more, than he 
actually ate.

I wanted to call Maggie, but it was barely five in the morning and I 
knew she needed her sleep after being up with William and I most of 
the last few days.

As I walked around trying to calm the screaming baby, Maggie's parting 
words stuck with me.  "Fox, if you come to feel you can't do this, let 
me know.  There's no shame in that.  I know that either Charlie or 
Bill would take him into their families in a heartbeat.  Heck, I'd 
love to have him if that's what you want.  So you're not stuck, you 
need to know that."

I couldn't imagine doing anything other than what I was.  I knew that 
Scully had wanted it this way, and William was really all that I had 
left of her. Of course I was living in her apartment and surrounded by 
her things, but William was a tangible, breathing part of his late 
mother.

I turned him to lie against my shoulder and when I put my hand between 
his little shoulder blades he erupted a huge belch into my ear, and 
then wet warmth began to soak through the cloth over my shoulder from 
his usual post-belch spit up.  Maggie and I had discovered that Will 
rarely burped without spitting up, and I was already used to it.  The 
wailing tapered off to whimpering, his head sank down to rest on my 
shoulder, and then I heard his breathing change to its usual deep, 
slow sleep pattern within just a couple of minutes as I continued to 
pace around the apartment.

Thank God.  Or whatever, if anything, was up there.

I laid Will in his bassinet, tossed the burp cloth in the general 
direction of the hamper and flopped back on the bed, rubbing the side 
of my head where an ache bloomed.  Despite Scully's mom taking a week 
to show me how to care for a newborn, I was beginning to wonder if I 
was up to this.  I'd been a lot more determined before having to deal 
with him on my own, and yet I couldn't bear the thought of giving him 
up to anyone, not even blood family who would let me see him whenever 
I wanted.

As I dozed, I couldn't help but remember how I had gotten to Scully 
too late, holding her in my arms as the life ran out of her in a 
thick, steady red stream.  I'd begged her not to go, crying into her 
dank, matted hair as William, barely ten minutes old at that point, 
shrieked from Reyes' arms.  We'd been looking into each other's eyes 
when she died, and my last words to her had been a promise to take 
care of William.  I would never break that no matter what happened.

But it didn't make it any easier when I felt so helpless and 
inadequate.


***

When I woke up to Will's sniffling and slowly escalating whining, the 
sun was shining in brightly and a squint at the clock showed it was 
nearly eight.  Though he'd never slept in so late nor for so long at 
one stretch before, it was a welcome change of pace.  As I stood and 
dry-scrubbed my face I could tell that I felt better just for having 
gotten an extra hour or two of sleep.

After his breakfast of four ounces of formula (which he all but gulped 
down; feeding was not a problem with this boy) and bath, Will stayed 
awake for a while rather than going right back to sleep.  I 
desperately wanted a shower but took a few minutes to just hold and 
cuddle him, murmuring to him softly and doing my best to keep eye 
contact.  All of the books that Maggie had had me read emphasized the 
importance of bonding, that it could literally make or break a child 
in the first few months.  I took every chance I could get to bond with 
William, as I was determined that he would be a well-adjusted child 
even if raised by a single father.

Because I never wanted another woman after Scully.

Finally he dozed off and I put him in the bassinet beside the bed, 
pausing a moment to run my hand softly over his dark auburn hair.  
Yet again I thought, why did Scully have to die before she did more 
than glimpse William?  All her sacrifices, her excitement over this 
miracle pregnancy, for nothing in the end.  At least for her.  Now I 
understood the hope of their being a Heaven, but as much as it would 
have comforted me I still couldn't believe that Scully was looking 
down on us from above.  No, she was just gone, leaving a huge gaping 
hole in my heart and our lives never to be filled again.

Finally I turned away and headed for the bathroom, which was just 
outside the bedroom doorway.  If I left the door open I would be able 
to hear William if he woke up, but still I was going to take a fast 
shower.  I was getting good at it.

However, of course, the moment my hand touched the hot water tap there 
was a knock from the front door.  I groaned, but turned and went 
through the apartment; it could be Maggie or the guys or even Skinner 
stopping by to see how we were doing.

But it was neither of them.  It was my nemeses and 
second-least-favorite person in the world: Captain William M. Scully, 
Jr.

"Bill.  To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"  I said tiredly, 
glancing out into the hall and hoping that Maggie or Tara was with 
him.  No such luck.  Bill was in mufti, a pair of tan Dockers and 
striped grey polo shirt.  He looked like an oversized schoolteacher if 
you didn't count the strict military bearing and haircut.

"Are you going to invite me in?" he said, meeting my eyes squarely and 
without malice.  "If it's not too much trouble I'd like to see my 
nephew one more time before we fly back to San Diego."

"Of course.  Sorry.  I'm a little sleep deprived even with your mom's 
help," I admitted, stepping back and then closing the door behind him 
once he was inside.  "Will's sleeping but you're welcome to look in on 
him."

"Jesus, it's like Dana will come walking in here and laugh at us for 
being so gullible to believe that she's gone," Bill said in a low 
voice, glancing around as he paused by the couch.  Very little had 
been changed since I'd moved in here, including the Scully family 
pictures scatted here and there.  It was messier than Scully had left 
it, although I was glad that I'd at least done the dishes and picked 
up after myself before hitting the sack last night.

"I know," I sighed.  "If I hadn't been there when she went, I wouldn't 
believe it myself."  I was braced for another tirade, this time most 
likely about how I'd cost him both sisters.  To head it off I walked 
around him and gestured to the bedroom doorway.  "Will's in the 
bassinet on the other side of the bed.  I was just about to take a 
shower," I added hastily, seeing what a mess the bedroom was in from 
my early morning unexpected wakening.  The bed wasn't made, both the 
baby's dirty clothes and mine strewn around the general direction of 
the hamper, and the damp towel from his bath was still lying across 
the changing table. Scully would have kicked my ass ten ways to Sunday 
if she could see this, I couldn't help but thinking.

"Why don't you go ahead?  I'll sit with him while you're in there," 
Bill said in a soft voice I'd never heard from him before as he gazed 
down at his sleeping nephew.  I'd dressed Will in a fuzzy blue sleeper 
after his bath and covered him with a hand- knitted blanket, and he 
was sleeping on his back with both fists curled up by his face.  
Still gazing down at him, Bill flipped the quilt over the mussed 
sheets and sat down on the edge of the bed, resting one hand on the 
edge of the pale blue and white bassinet.

"Thanks, appreciate it," I said, then headed for the bathroom.  I 
couldn't imagine Bill stealing him from me, though it wasn't beyond 
the realm of possibility.  But if I couldn't trust Scully's brother 
with our son, then who could I trust?  I was going to have to let go 
of my deep-seated paranoia with her family, I knew, and this was as 
good of a time to start as any.

I indulged in a fairly long hot shower, letting the water from her 
shower massager beat down on my shoulders for a few minutes once I was 
clean.  I was buffeted by memories; Scully and I had christened this 
shower stall more than once, the large claw-footed bathtub even more 
often.  We'd only been together as a couple for a few months before 
I'd been taken, but I clearly remembered every romantic encounter 
whether we'd had sex or not.  One of my favorites was the Friday night 
we'd driven out to a remote beach in northern Maryland.  We'd built a 
small bonfire in the sand, cuddled together under my Knicks stadium 
blanket, and talked until we ran out of firewood around three a.m.  
There had been nothing more sexual than kissing and holding each 
other; had we known it was less than a week before I'd disappeared I'm 
sure more would have happened, but at the time we were content with 
just being together.  It was one of my best memories; about the 
closest we came to being a normal couple in the short time we'd had.

I had brought clothes in with me and once I was dried off and dressed, 
I opened the bathroom door to find Bill just walking past with Will on 
his shoulder, wide awake and nuzzling his uncle's neck.  My first 
flash of thought was that he was taking him away, but then Bill nodded 
at me and said, "Someone woke up hungry.  I already changed him, and I 
assume his bottles are in the fridge?"

"Yeah, there should be two in there," I said, following him into the 
kitchen while trying to finger-comb my damp hair into some semblance 
of order.  "I try to keep at least four ready when I can, your mom 
said that helps keep things organized."

"Yep, that's my mom.  I'll make a fresh one so you can keep those 
two," Bill said, tuning and handing Will to me before going to the 
counter where a can of powdered Enfamil and measuring cups were.  I 
sat down in a kitchen chair with the fussing baby and watched as he 
prepared the bottle with easy familiarity; had I not already known 
that Bill was a father of two this would have keyed me in.

"You do that pretty well for a man who's at sea more often than he's 
home," I said thoughtlessly, and then cringed when I realized that it 
could be misconstrued as a criticism.

Luckily he didn't take it that way.  "Well, yeah, but when I am home I 
spend all my time with Tara and the kids," he said, punching a minute 
into the microwave.  "And now that I'm a captain I actually have more 
time at home than I did before."  He turned to face me, bracing his 
hands back on the counter.  "Mulder, are you really going to raise 
William alone?  How are you going to work?"

His tone and attitude weren't hostile, only curious, so I decided to 
tell him the truth.  "I don't have to work.  I have a pretty nice nest 
egg since my parents died which we can probably live on until Will's 
in kindergarten."  This was a partial truth since the inheritances 
from both of my parents as well as the sales of their several houses 
had netted me enough to live on for a lot longer than that if I was 
frugal.  "On top of that, I can do a lot of things from 
home-profiling, writing, consulting, that sort of thing."

The microwave dinged and he turned to get the bottle out.  "You know, 
Mulder, when my mom told us that you were going to raise Will alone I 
thought that was one of the most idiotic things I'd ever heard.  But 
now... I'm a big enough man to admit when I might be wrong."  He 
dripped a bit of the formula on the inside of his arm, and then used 
the dishtowel hanging over the sink to wipe it up.

I stared up at him, surprised, as he set the bottle on the counter and 
reached for the baby.  All I could do was blink as he took William 
from my arms and, picking up the Playtex nurser with one hand, carried 
both into the living room.

I got up to find him comfortably ensconced on the couch, the arm he 
was holding Will with braced with a pillow.  My son, as always, was 
sucking away with little grunts, waving his fists until Bill put a 
finger out and captured one. Will's grip was strong and steady, his 
other hand coming to rest by his face.  "Well, I guess I'm glad to 
hear that, though it wouldn't change my mind even if you did think 
this was a mistake."

"What if my mom thought that?"  Bill challenged, though his tone was 
mild and eyes on the baby.

"Then I would have thought twice," I said.  "But more than likely I'd 
hire a housekeeper or nanny, not give him up to someone else to 
raise."

"When we heard that Dana... was gone... Tara began making room for 
Will," Bill said, still not looking up at me.  "Even when we heard 
that you were going to keep him she didn't stop.  If you change your 
mind, we'd love to have him. But I don't think that's going to happen, 
is it?"

"Nope," I said firmly, sitting down in an armchair across the coffee 
table from them.  "Unless something happens to me, Will's staying 
here."

"Are you going to keep this apartment?" Bill looked around, his eyes 
sad.

"I haven't decided yet, in fact I've been putting it off," I admitted. 
"Although I think you're right, it's like Scu-Dana will come walking 
out of the bedroom any minute.  I think that's why I'm staying here, 
and that's probably not a good thing.  Yeah, we should move, but I 
don't know when or where."

"Don't worry about it right now, but stay close to my mom if you can; 
Will's all she's got in this area anymore and she doesn't want to 
leave that house," he said.

"Will and I," I corrected.  "I'll be here for her as much as I can."

"That's a help," Bill said, again without malice.  I had not seen him 
in almost a year, in fact the last time being this past Christmas at 
his mother's house when I'd been so annoyed with his verbal jabs that 
I'd slipped out immediately after dinner.  Scully had caught me at 
home and berated the hell out of me, then ended up spending the night 
after I apologized.  Mentally shaking myself out of the reverie, I 
remembered how cold he'd been the last time I'd seen him and compared 
it to this.

"Why are you being so nice to me, Bill?"  I asked with sudden open 
suspicion as I began to realize that this could be a setup of some 
kind.  "Can I take this at face value, or is the axe about to drop?"

Now he glared at me, shaking his head.  "I should have known.  Dana 
told me you were one suspicious son of a bitch. "

"Guess that fits in with your assessment of me being a sorry son of a 
bitch," I sniped back.  Then I heard Scully's voice in my head, almost 
as if she was there:  "Stop picking at each other like children; 
you're supposed to be the adults here!"

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and scrubbing at my 
rough face; I had forgotten to shave.  "I'm sorry, Bill, I don't know 
why I suddenly got defensive.  Your sister's voice just popped into my 
head and reminded me that I'm supposed to be an adult."

Bill snorted amusement as he took the bottle from Will's lax lips, 
setting it on the coffee table, then lifted the sleeping baby to his 
shoulder.  I opened my mouth to warn him to use a burp cloth but it 
was too late; Will blurted spit-up down his uncle's shoulder and 
across the back of the couch.

"Hang on, I'm well equipped for this," I said, getting up and hurrying 
into the bedroom.  I returned with a roll of paper towel, a pack of 
baby wipes, a clean onesie for Will, and a bottle of Miracle Clean 
spray for the couch.

"If baby spit is the worst thing I get on me today I'll count myself 
lucky," Bill said as we cleaned up, William dozing on the other end of 
the couch with two throw pillows tucking him in.  Luckily there wasn't 
much on the back of Bill's shirt, which he was able to take into the 
bathroom and clean off, though I did have a job getting the majority 
off the back of the couch.

When we were back in the living room, Bill sitting on the couch by 
Will's feet and me in the same chair I'd been in earlier, he turned to 
me.  "I also came by to let you know that Tara and I will be here if 
you need us, but I can see that you won't need the kind of help that I 
thought you might."

I shrugged, uneasy even with his backhanded praise.  "Yeah, well, I 
made a promise to Dana that I intend to keep.  No matter what."

"You know, I have blamed you for a lot of our family's losses and 
while it's true, I can't change history so I just have to deal with 
it.  Had you not decided to keep Will I would have thought a lot less 
of you, and while I still don't like you, I do rather admire you for 
this."  Bill got to his feet and I rose as well.  "I have to go, we're 
flying back to San Diego in the morning and if I'm not there to help 
pack, Tara'll have my balls."

He leaned over and picked William up carefully, not waking the 
sleeping infant.  "See you in a few months, little buddy," he 
whispered, kissing one plump cheek gently.  He handed the baby to me, 
glanced briefly into my eyes then away.  "Call us if there's anything 
we can do," he said in a gruff voice, then headed for the door.

"Bill," I called.  He stopped, but didn't turn.  "Thank you."

He waved a hand over his shoulder, opened the door, and then was gone. 
I stared at the closed door for a while, not sure if I should be 
bemused or annoyed, then shook my head and carried my son back to his 
bed.

finis