Title: Birthday Tickets Author: Cathey Scully Rating: R Category: A, R, S, Post-Col Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance, Alternate POV, Williamfic, Post-Col Spoilers: The Truth Summary: Every year, directly before my birthday, the tickets showed up at our door. Archive: Sure, if you'd like. Just tell me where it's getting put. Feedback: Please! Send it to CatheyScully@the-pentagon.com or ForeverXphile@adelphia.net Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and William aren't mine. Original Notes: I thought this up while I was at the baseball game today (labor day). Yeah, I know this is the second fic that's been inspired by a baseball game, but this one is totally different from "Ballgame." All of my other fics, as well as this one can be found at my fic site: http://catheysfic.tripod.com Newer Notes: I honestly don't know why I never posted this before now. ~ & * I don't know when the tickets began arriving. It may have been a tradition that was started on my first birthday, or something that came about later. Part of me hopes that it was something that went on from the very beginning, but I don't allow myself to dream. All I know is that for as long as I can remember, every year, directly before my birthday, the tickets showed up at our door. Two plane tickets to New York, and two tickets for dugout level seats at Yankee Stadium. There was never a note, nor a return address on the brown, padded envelope. The first year I clearly remember was when I was three, and my dad, or the man I called my dad, and I went. I watched the first half of the game in awe. I'd only flown on a plane to another place once or twice before. By the seventh inning stretch, the Yanks were down by one, and I was bored. I started exploring, the people behind me were dull looking, and the ones in front of me had already shot me and my dad dirty looks because my peanuts had accidentally on purpose made their way into their laps. Then I noticed the couple beside me. The man was tanned and dark haired, and the woman was fair and redheaded. I remember them smiling over at me. "Today's my birthday," I announced proudly. "Really?" the woman asked. I nodded vigorously. "Wow. How old are you?” "I'm thee." "Three? You must be a big boy then," the man replied. I nodded, "I'm William." "Hi William," she answered. My dad touched my shoulder. "I'm sorry about him. He's bored so he's exploring. You know three year olds." "It's no problem. Don't worry about the Yanks, they'll win." The guy answered. They left before the game was over. I remember her smiling back at me as I waved to her. Sure enough, the next year, two plane tickets, and two ballgame tickets arrived just in time for my birthday. Dad and I flew out to New York again. We had the same seats as before, and after two innings, the same couple arrived. Immediately I recognized them, but they showed no recognition to me. Inside I longed for them to acknowledge me. Finally around the time my dad tore out of his seat to retrieve a ball for me did the woman turn and whisper to me. "Hi William," she smiled over at me. I grinned back. We enjoyed the game. I was four, I loved baseball, and I was receiving attention from two people who gave off protection in waves. They never stayed through to the end of the game though. Year after year, the tickets arrived. Year after year, my Dad and I went to New York and saw the Yankees play. Most of the time they won. Year after year, we saw the couple, yet I never learned their names. My mother died when I was six, and that year, on my 7th birthday, had I not begged enough, I wouldn't have gone. The only thing was that my dad sent his friend Tim to the game with me instead. We got to the game late, and they were already there. Tim didn't let me talk to them. I remember that he wouldn't even let me turn my head and look at them without him barking at me to watch the game. When they left that year, the woman was upset, and I knew it had to have been because of me. The guy hugged her tightly to try to help her feel better. I remember wanting to go to them, wanting a hug too. I didn't like Tim, and I missed my mom. The tickets came for the next four years. On the fourth though, the couple wasn't there. It was then that I knew something was wrong. That's when it started, on my 11th birthday of all days. As we were leaving the game, I thought I saw the woman, but then with a passing fat man, she was gone. It was just like a sci-fi movie, but yet it really happened. Full aliens, and hybridized humans infiltrated the governments, stormed the country, and killed millions within the first few days. Even our tiny farm was overrun and my dad and I were taken prisoners. Dad was one of the many who were made to work to keep themselves alive. Others were either killed or 'changed'. This was a process that I had the misfortune of witnessing far too many times. For some reason though, they never hurt me. In fact, I think I hurt them, and so they kept me locked up until they wanted something, like knowledge that I'd suddenly find in my head. Then they'd cast me in a cell and feed me only when they felt like it. After three years of careful planning, during the night, or what passed for night in their facility, I escaped. After discovering that I was near Phoenix, I hid and tired to plan what to do. I skulked around Arizona for a few weeks, hiding in and out of recently abandoned buildings. In an old computer warehouse I found a working laptop. Pounding on the keys, I found my birth records on the Internet. It confirmed what I'd always known. I was adopted. Instantly two faces flashed before my eyes; the couple I always saw at the Yankees games. Spurred by my discovery, I moved on from place to place, hiding and doing my part to save as many people as a fourteen year old kid could. I knew part of me hoped I would find my parents, and then I wouldn't have to do all of that on my own. I never found them, though, not on my own. I found Meran; or Meran actually found me. She too had escaped from Their hold a few years before. We found out that they'd taken us because of what we were. We had the same abilities caused by the tests that had been performed on our parents before we were ever conceived. I was a miracle, thought to have been conceived by unnatural means to make a genetically engineered human, but instead, I was a perfectly normal baby, only I still had access to a part of my physiology that few humans did. Meran though, she had been conceived through in-vitro fertilization, and still had the ability to sense what people were thinking, and even to move things with her mind when she got angry enough. My parents…my parents were special to begin with. Both were immune to the virus that was now running rampant, meaning I was immune too. Both had worked for so long to expose the men in the government who knew that the take-over was going to occur. She also told me why I'd been given up for adoption. Meran told me that my parents were alive and fighting just as I was. They were fighting to end the invasion, but they needed help, my help. Their rebellion was small, but gaining power everyday. Most of all, they needed me because I was supposed to be the leader of the alien civilization. Meran contacted a loyal friend of my parents' and told him that we'd work together to make our way to a meeting. One that never happened. Meran and I fought side by side for two years. Then as suddenly as everything started, the Leaders retreated, and their followers fell down dead. It was over, we'd won. After a night of celebration with other rebels, Meran and I had a celebration of our own. Now I'm here. After the end of the war, Meran and I set up a makeshift home in one of the rebel camps. It wasn't a great life, but it was life. Then, a full six years after the world came to a screeching halt, one solitary note appeared. It told me to come to the old Yankee stadium on my birthday. Most of the things that my early childhood was based on don't exist anymore. Neither baseball, nor airports have been re-implemented. The country, hell the entire fucking world is still trying to recollect society, to pull something out of the phoenix and rebuild. After much thought, Meran loaned me her retrofitted moped and I set out for New York from "home" in Tennessee. Weary, I rested in Pennsylvania, right at the border of New York. After an hour's worth of sleep I continued on. The next day I made it, walking grimly into one of the most historic buildings in America, possibly the world. The white house was gone, destroyed along with most of DC. But Yankee Stadium had been left alone by the invaders, and the rebellion had at one point used it as a place of triage for the wounded. I sat in my old seat, wishing I could just go back and be a kid again. I wished that I could eat peanuts, drink overpriced cokes and laugh with my dad, my real dad. And my real mom. Someone settled two seats down and I looked up. It was her, looking tired and far older than I knew she was. What surprised me was that the guy, her husband, wasn't with her. Before I could ask, I knew. Just by her feelings, I knew. My biological father wasn't coming. I scooted closer, into his seat and lowered my head to mimic her position. "He's dead, isn't he?" I asked, squeezing my eyes shut to ward of tears. She nodded. "He was captured, right at the end. We were together, like always, but he made me go ahead. They tortured him before returning him. I tried to treat him, but his injuries were too severe. He slipped away two weeks ago," her voice cracked. I tugged her into my arms, but she pulled away. "Mom?" I asked. She looked up, surprised. "I always knew that you were my parents. You knew too, right?" She nodded. "It was your dad's idea. Some friends of ours had lifetime tickets. He wanted you to be able to love his team. He also wanted to see you so badly, that we couldn't stay away when you were here." "My third birthday, was that the first time?" "Yes. Your father and I were in danger until you were almost two. We couldn't put you in jeopardy that way." "I've been in danger for the last six years." "I know William," she answered. "Mulder wanted me to give you this," she pressed a note and a small photo into my palm. I looked at it curiously. In the picture, my parents, Dana and Mulder, sat beside each other, their arms supporting a tiny infant. Me. I opened the note, reading it carefully, not wanting to let my shaking hands take over. Inside there were words written only for me by my father. 'Son, All your life I've wanted to say these words to you. To express my love, all of my love. However the fact that you're reading this, instead of hearing the words from my lips means something has happened to me. I only wish that I could have seen you and had you know me as your dad, instead of the guy at the baseball games. William, for the majority of my adult life I chased aliens that everyone denied existed. I pushed away the woman I needed and loved the most, until finally I knew that there was more out there than exposing conspiracies. Against incredible odds, you were conceived, William. The love I felt for you transcended anything I'd ever experienced. I was a father. I could never blame your mother for using every available resource to protect you. After all, I went into hiding to protect both of you, even if it meant being apart. Don't blame her either, she loves you more than anything. My largest regret is that the only times I've gotten to see you have been the times that I've never gotten to bond with you the way a father should. I had to leave when you were only a week and a half old, and the next time I saw you was your third birthday. This letter is getting long, and your mother's watch shift is almost over. Always remember that I love you, William. Tell mom not to cry, help her if she needs it. Remind her that I love her, and I love you both. All my love, Your Dad, Fox Mulder.' I stopped reading, raising my wet eyes to hers. "The night you were born, the first time he held you, your father sobbed. Not because he was sad, or upset. He was so happy, so ready to be a dad that he cried with you in his arms, William. He loved everything about you, the way you'd hold his index finger with both your hands, the way your head would rest on his shoulder, even the way you blew spit bubbles in his face one night," she laughed sadly. Reaching out, she touched my cheek. "Meran told me how hard you fought." "I've only begun to fight. I'll find whoever hurt him, and I'll kill them." "William, no." "I'm going to hunt down each and every one of those assholes and make them wish they'd never woken up. Fucking bastards." "William, no," she repeated, more forceful this time. "How can you say that? How? He's dead! He's never coming back! You're never going to see him again!" I knew I was yelling. "I'm never going to see him again," my voice cracked and suddenly I deflated as quickly as my anger had come. Her arms were around me, pulling me against her breast. I could feel her heart pounding underneath the scratchy material her clothes were made of. She took shuddering breath, and I felt her tears against my hair. "William, I can't lose you too. Your father wouldn't want you to get yourself killed in revenge for him. I'm not going to lose you too." "But Dad," I broke off. "Is watching over us. He's only gone if you let him be so. I miss him too, so damn much. But he's a part of me, and he's a part of you too. And he wants you to be happy, to live your life. Just as he would if he were alive," she explained softly. I tightened my grip on her and cried. I cried for my friends, and my lost family. I cried for civilization, for everyone who'd been lost. I cried for the 'what ifs' and the 'could have beens'. I cried for my father, and the relationship we'd never have. Mom kissed my hair and cried with me. We stayed that way until the sun set, giving end to another day, and leading in to another night. "William," she whispered after a while, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "Yes?" "Happy birthday, sweetheart." I smiled slightly, my tears still drying on my cheeks. "17 years ago I held you in my arms for the first time," she murmured comfortingly. "I thought that I would never love you more than I did that night. I was wrong." I closed my eyes against her shoulder. The sun would rise, and my new life would begin. End Author's Note: I wish that this had been a happy fic. When I got the idea, I couldn't make it be happy. As hard as I tried, I felt like it would take something away from the story to make it happy. Enough feedback however, and I might be persuaded to try for a sequel. Foreverxphile@adelphia.net is the place to send it.