Title: The Boy in Mr. Murphy's Classroom
Author: Agent Spooky
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: I'd say William.
Feedback: I'd love to hear from you at msmessina@yahoo.com.br
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to 1013, CC and who else has the rights.


It's been almost eight years since they left their old lives. Eight years without telling anybody their real names, without their badges, without the X-Files. Eight years without spending more than six months in one place.

And eight years without William.

It was the big elephant in the room. They both knew what day and month put one more year between them and their son. But they tried as hard they could not to mention the subject. And if it were a test, they would sure get an A.

But since it was Monday, it'd be easier for them to avoid the 'elephant'. They both needed to work, after all.

They were living for the next five months and a half in a small town close to nowhere. These places always needed a doctor, which was perfect for her. But for him was harder to find a job. The only offer he found was to be a third grade substitute teacher. Which was fine by him.

But new places also meant new names. Since last time it was him who chose their names, it was her turn now.

"Okay. We're gonna be Linda and Earl Murphy. We're ..."

"Wait. Let me see if I understood it correctly. You are naming me Earl?"

"You named me Britney last time. It was only fair."

"Ah, come on, Scully! I was only joking. You are just being mean."

"You better get use to it, Earl. Because it will be your name for the next five months."

He sulked and she smiled for the rest of the day. He found out that he complained for nothing when people called him Fox.

A month later and the name kinda grew on him. He could almost forgive her. Almost.

"So, first day today. How are you?" She asked while she put a cup of coffee in front of him.

"I'm feeling like I'm five and this is my first day in school." He said, taking a sip of coffee.

"Don't be so nervous. They're just kids. The worst thing they'd do is put something sharp on your chair."

"Thanks, Scully. I'm feeling so much better now," he said, sarcastically.

He got up and put the cup in the sink.

"Need a ride?"

"No, thank you. I'm going a little later today. I filled in for a doctor a couple hours yesterday and she's filling in for me today."

"See you later then," he said, giving her a kiss.

"Good luck, Earl," she said, with a satisfying smile on her face.


The classroom was small. Ten kids at most. But the butterflies in his stomach refused to go away.

He put his briefcase on his desk.

"Good morning. My name is Mr. Murphy."

"Good morning, Mr. Murphy." The children said in unison.

"As you all know, I'll be substituting Mrs. Davis for the next five months. So, what do you say we get to know each other better?"

The little girl sitting on the first row answered:

"My name is Melinda Mathews."

The little boy behind her answered:

"I'm Peter Halls."

And so it went, until the little boy in the last row.

"My name is William Van De Kamp."

Mulder didn't know why he kept staring at that boy. He seemed so familiar. He was sure he'd seen those blue eyes and brownish red hair before. But the boy was growing uncomfortable beacause of the staring, and Mulder thought it was better to start the class.

When Mulder arrived home, Scully was still at work. He went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. When he looked up to the mirror above the sink, he imeadiatly remembered the little boy from today. The way he looked at Mulder was *Mulder's* way of looking. And the name, William.

"No, it can't be," he said to himself. But it still kept him awake at night.


The next day, Mulder asked the children to write an essay about themselves, their parents, everything. That way he could know about William's life without being suspicious.

When the children put their assays on his desk when class was over, he picked his things up and couldn't get home fast enough.

When he got home he sat on the couch and started rifling through the assays until he found the one with the name William Van De Kamp in it. He started reading:

"My name is William Van De Kamp. I'm nine years old. I've lived here in Wyoming since I was a baby. My dad has a farm and my mom takes care of the house. She takes care of me and my dad too. I asked if we could have a dog but they both said 'no'. They said that a dog would take a lot of my time and that would mean less baseball. I'm a Yankees fan. My dad says that I should find another team but I really like the Yankees. When I grow up, I'll be a doctor or maybe an FBI agent. I think it's really cool! I don't think I have anything more to say, so that's it."

Apart from his choices in career and baseball, he didn't say anything reviling. But Mulder had another idea to investigate little William's life a bit further.

So the next day when all the kids arrived, Mulder said:

"Since Mother's Day is coming up, I was thinking we'd do something special for them. What do you think?"

At the excited 'yes' around the class, Mulder continued:

"I was thinking that you could bring a picture of your mommies when they were pregnant of you and a recent picture of you and your moms. That way, we could put the pictures side by side on this wall."

The kids all agreed, and when class was over, William approached Mulder's desk.

"Mr. Murphy?" he asked, shyly.

Mulder's heart skipped a beat. "Yes, William. What is it?"

"My mom doesn't have any pictures of when she was pregnant."

"May I ask why not?"

"I'm adopted," he said, looking down.

Mulder's heart skipped another beat. "Tha-that's no problem, William. Just bring a recent picture then."

"Okay." The boy smiled and left.


That night, when Scully got home, he didn't know what to do. Should he tell her about William? He was sure he was *their* William. Aside from the evidence, everyday he discovered another bit of himself and Scully in that little boy. The way his eyebrows arched when he was deep in thought, the way he talked, moved. It was all him and her. Should he tell her? Would be fair to tell her that their son was so close just so five months later they'd be apart again? Was it fair not to?

"The hospital was so full today. I don't know what happened. It seemed like the whole town had a pain somewhere in the body."

"Scully, come here," he said, indicating the spot on the couch next to him.

She sat down and asked: "Mulder, what is it? Something's wrong?"

"You trust me Scully, don't you?"

"You know I do. More than anything."

He smiled and put a lock of red hair behind her ear.

"We have to leave, Scully. Today."

"Why? What happened?"

"It's not safe here. This place may hurt you more than you know. It's already hurt me. I don't want it to happen to you."

"Mulder, are you okay? Are you hurt?" She started looking for bruises, but he held her hands gently.

"I'm hurt inside, Scully. Please, don't ask me anymore questions. You said you trusted me and that's what I'm asking of you."

She looked deeply into his eyes. She saw it was something serious. So she kissed his mouth gently and got up.

"I'll start packing," she said and went to their bedroom.

But he had one more thing he needed to do before leaving.

"Scully, I have to go out for a while. I'll be back soon."

He picked his briefcase up from the coffee table and was out the door before she could ask him anything.

When he got home an hour later, their things were all packed.

"Already?" He asked.

"I got the hang of it after all these years."

He bent down to pick their suitcases.

"Where did you go, Mulder?"

"I gave something to a student of mine."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later. All set?"

She nodded.

"Then let's go."

She turned off the light and closed the door behind them.


The doorbell rang.

"William, could you get that?" The woman said from the kitchen.

"Sure, mom."

The little boy opened the door and didn't see anybody. But when he looked down, there was a small box with his name in it.

He opened the box and inside it there was a picture of a pregnant red-haired woman smiling to the camera. There was a note underneath it.

"Now you have a picture of when your mom was pregnant of you."

The woman said from the kitchen: "William, who is it?"

"I think it was my dad," he said, putting the picture and the note in his pocket, smiling.

THE END


Author's note: I don't have anything against the names Earl or Britney. So don't write any complaints about it to me.

Like my story? Hated it? Tell me what you think at: msmessina@yahoo.com.br


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