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He remembers. He remembers everything about that moment. He remembers his sons face, so pale and gentle and beautiful in the soft yellow glow. He remembers her face. Her tired, delicate eyes, her flaming hair and her striking face illuminated with pride and love as she looked down at their son. He remembers the feel of his downy hair slip between his fingers, the smell of his tiny head. The burst of joy he felt walking into that room and finally being able to touch his son and look at the love of his life properly since his birth. He remembers, after they put William in his crib and they lay in her bed, him holding her so close to his body he might crush her, how the words of gratitude and love just poured out of his mouth straight into her heart as he kissed the crown of her head and her temple, proclaiming that he has never loved anyone in his entire life as much as he loves her and their son.
Then he left.
For their own good, mind you, but on the run, the only time he had to think of his family was before sleep. He recalled every single touch, caress he had with his son, the face he made when he woke up, the little sighs he made while asleep that would make him and Scully laugh. The way Scully would doze while nursing, bone tired but still powering on. He didn't want to forget anything. As the months continued, with him on the run and his son growing everyday, learning to smile and maybe soon speak, his memories became hyper. He could count the amount of times he saw his son on both hands, but he swore to himself the day he left that he would never forget a single detail about him. Every spare moment of every day was spent remembering his son and his lover, his partner, trying to fend off the loneliness and anguish with happy memories of his safe family back home.
He would have nightmares, he always had nightmares, but somehow, the ones about his son hurt him more than the ones about Scully or Samantha ever would. He would often think that his body, his mind, his being was trying to curse and harm him because, after almost 40 years, he was finally somewhat happy. He also thought that William was the first thing in his life that was wholeheartedly his, and thinking that made his chest ache
The short, sporadic emails from Scully about her and their son were the highlights of his bleak, blurred together weeks. The only constant for him was his son and lover. She would talk animatedly about their son, his development, how many of his little quirks reminded her of him. He would laugh, and smile and cry thinking about his beautiful, young family and how he was missing out. He would tell her how much he loved her and how devastated he is that he is missing all of his child’s milestones, but she always remains chipper, reminding him that they will all be together soon enough, and they will always be there for him to come home too. She also tells him that even though the only time William met his father was when he was a few days old, he is very responsive to his voice and photographs of him, which only made Mulder cry more, thinking about his beautiful son and his beautiful mother and the beautiful family he left behind to keep them safe.
When Skinner came silently into his cell, pain evident on his face, he knew that something was wrong. Skinner walked slowly over to his cot, squatting down and putting his hand on Mulder’s knee.
“Mulder, I need to tell you something.”
Mulder just nodded numbly.
“for his own safety, Dana had to give up William.”
And his heart shattered. He broke down into gut wrenching sobs as Skinner held him. He cried and cried and cried until nothing was left. Skinner kept on repeating over and over again why she did it and he understood, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mourn his lost son. Skinner patted his knee and left the room again, leaving Mulder to his own thoughts.
When she came into his room and broke down, he held her as she cried, telling him that she had no other choice to put William up for adoption, unaware of the conversation that happened in that very room the night before. She kept on repeating, heartbroken, that she was so sure he would never forgive her, which only made him hold her tighter, and tell her over and over again “I missed the two of you every second of every day I was away. But nothing on this world or otherwise, would make me love you any less, Scully.”
As the weeks on the run blurred into months of seedy hotel rooms and never feeling safe, they decided to throw caution to the wind and settle down. After years of unstable housing, when they moved to the small house in West Virginia, both him and Scully let out a sigh of relief. She started her job at Our Lady of Sorrows, and finally began to relax. Mulder was left to his own devices while she was work, and he would often think of William. But as he grew older, his memories began to fade. The edges of the memories started to turn a pale grey, the colour of Scully’s hair started to weaken, the once flaming red turning to a dull, pale orange, until finally, one day, he forgot what his sons face looked like completely. All the photos and possessions that once belonged to their son were hidden away in boxes in the attic; they brought back far too many painful memories for the two of them.
He was so angry at himself. What kind of monster forgets what your own son looks like? As the anger coursed through his veins like a forest fire. He let out a guttural scream and threw himself at the wall closest to the door in his study, ripping off all of the newspaper clippings and tearing them into tiny pieces, throwing the ruined paper onto the floor, tears running down his face. He made his way over to the desk, raking his hands over the cluttered wood, flinging all of the books and papers into the floor before his legs gave out, collapsing onto the carpet below him. He screamed and cried, cursing his aging mind or forgetting one of the only good memories he had from his entire life.
Hours later, when Scully returned home from her shift, she walked into Mulder’s study to discover the damage that was left behind. She looked around at the bare walls, dropping to her knees in front of Mulder’s crumpled form. She picked him up torso and hugged it, stoking his hair.
“I’ve forgotten. I’ve forgotten him Dana. I can remember in vivid details my sister abduction, but I can’t even remember my own son’s god damn face.”
Ever since that moment, every clear panel in his wallet, on the back of his phone and his lock screen, the background of his laptop is filled with a picture of their son and Scully, taken 3 days after his birth, Scully in a silk dressing gown, looking down at William with a small smile on her face, and he is certain she has no idea the photo was taken. Even after they break up, he keeps the photo with him everywhere he goes, just to remind him, no matter where they are, they will always love him, and they will always be his.