Title: The Geometry of Loss (Chapter 3)
Author: Kudra (kudra_x@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer:  These characters aren't mine.  They belong 
to Chris Carter, 1013 & Fox, but they sure are fun to 
play with.
Category: Post-The Truth, MSR
Summary: Mulder and Scully struggle with the reality of 
their new existence months after the events of 
"William" and "The Truth"
Archive: Feel free, but please let me know where

Author's Note:  Thanks to Elizabeth for the prodding, 
encouragement and most excellent beta.


"The Geometry of Loss"
by Kudra

Chapter 3


**To protect her son from the wrath of Set, the 
Egyptian goddess Isis entrusted the care of her beloved 
Horus to strangers, common people in the desert.  Her 
husband Osiris was gone, his body dismembered and 
scattered to the ends of the earth, and Isis and Horus 
were themselves hunted in turn.

Although Osiris was later resurrected, Horus remained 
with the kindly couple, and they raised him as their 
own.  Disguising herself as a nurse, Isis kept watch as 
her son grew, knowing that his destiny was to defeat 
Set and avenge his father.

Can I claim such lofty motives for the abandonment of 
my son?  Like Isis, I let him go for safekeeping... but 
I hoped to shield my son from omens, portents, the 
burden of a glorious destiny.

And should a time come to reclaim him from his 
caretakers, unlike Isis, I do not have the luxury of 
throwing off my disguise, rendering them speechless and 
abject at my divine radiance, ready to grant me 
anything, even their son---my son---in appeasement.

But he is lost... the safe harbor I'd envisioned for 
him cast away like vapors on the wind.

I'm no goddess.  I am simply a woman, a mother, who 
failed to trust the strength of her heart... and who 
fears to believe in the power of justice.**

**********

Wyoming is all land and sky, its fantastic geology 
baffling travelers accustomed to the green uniformity 
of the east and northwest.  Buttes and canyons give way 
to rolling prairie land and rocky, snowcapped 
mountains.  Ranches and farmhouses dot the landscape, 
accents rather than an encroaching force.

Scully has been here more than once, but she was in and 
out of coroner's offices or under cover of darkness, 
never having the chance to simply stand and appreciate 
the beauty of a wide expanse of sky.

As she steps out of the car at the Van de Camp ranch, 
she takes a moment to surrender the present and 
consider what might have been.  The sense of endless 
possibility that must have awaited William, growing up 
here under an impossibly big sky, not hemmed in with 
apartments and shopping malls and grim city streets.

Mulder walks up behind her as she breathes in the scent 
of the western wind, a smell of grassy prairie and 
wildness.  He brushes the windswept hair out of her 
face, cups her cheeks in his big hands and gently 
kisses her.  "Are you ready to go in, Scully?"

*********

They walk in politely, shaking hands, exchanging vague 
pleasantries.  *It's possible to do this.* Mulder tells 
himself.  He knows they've been in hundreds of homes, 
situations just like this, over the years.  How many 
parents of missing children have they questioned?  
Boiled down to the bare essentials, should this be any 
different? 

*How's the weather?  How do you like Wyoming?  Where's 
my son?*  

Black humor, his trusted means of survival.

"Would you like some tea?" Linda asks, passing Mulder 
on her way to the kitchen.

"No, thanks, Ms. Van de Camp," Mulder replies.

"Please, call me Linda," she pats his shoulder.

The Van de Camps are welcoming, but they're going 
through the motions, washed through with loss.  
Although Mulder can't quite remember what it was like 
to hold William in his arms, the hole in his heart 
remains, and he listens to the couple with 
understanding.

"I was adopted myself," says Linda, "Seemed like giving 
back somehow.  And after battling infertility for 
years, it was our only option for becoming parents."

Joe took his hand in her own.  "William was a miracle--
-truly the answer to all our hopes and prayers."

*Scully's too.*  Mulder thinks.  He knows he abandoned 
prayer long before William came along, but not Scully.  
He glances at her, wondering how many times it is 
possible for a woman's heart to break before it stops 
functioning altogether.  Discreetly, he reaches for her 
hand, and softly squeezes it.

Suddenly Mulder is hit with a throb of pain in his 
right temple.  Sitting on a couch belonging to 
WilliamÕs adoptive parents is surreal enough in itself, 
but unexpectedly, flashes of his son are assaulting his 
senses.

*William building a block tower and gleefully tearing 
it down.  William taking his first tentative steps, 
gazing at his father for assurance.  William chasing a 
gray cat, laughing maniacally. William taking a bottle, 
nestled serenely in his new motherÕs arms.*

Mulder is grateful Scully is not plagued with such 
visions.

"William liked it here, didn't he, Linda?" Mulder asks, 
and he feels Scully shift uncomfortably beside him.

"Oh yes," Linda replies, "he's such a happy little boy.  
Absolutely full of wonder at the whole world, like he 
can't contain himself, can't miss anything."  She 
smiles at the memory of him.

Scully stands up suddenly, breaking free of Mulder's 
grip. "I'd like to examine William's room now."

*******

"How are we going to handle this, Scully?" Mulder had 
asked earlier, "As investigators or as parents?"

Scully had drawn a deep breath.  She was honestly 
unsure of her reply, or if it was indeed possible to 
separate the two.  Typical Bureau procedure would never 
allow them to assist on their son's case, but they were 
thousands of miles and two terminations away from 
correct protocol.  This was a question for another 
life, one that Special Agent Dana Scully could have 
answered in her sleep.

She no longer had the comfort of easy answers.

"Investigators, first. Parents second," she replied, 
"In fact, I don't think it's a good idea that they 
learn you're William's father." She winced inwardly, 
knowing this would revisit old slights for Mulder, but 
it couldn't be helped. She'd already compromised their 
position enough.

"Yeah, you've never been comfortable with that whole 
too-much-information thing," he smiled weakly, "I'll 
just be your partner.  Got a lot of experience in that 
role."

"Well, thanks to the Gunmen, we are identified as 
husband and wife," she says with a slight grin. "I'm 
not asking you to deny involvement with me entirely.  
Let's just tread carefully with the Van de Camps."

And so here they are, tracing the edges of a life their 
son lived without them, piecing together the last 
moments of a tranquil existence, strangers in the place 
William had called home.

Mulder combs the house, finally arriving at William's 
bedroom.  Scully watches as he methodically examines 
William's crib, toys, each blanket and shoe, gathering 
data about the son he never had the chance to know.  
She brushes away the approaching sorrow and turns to 
her work.

She dons latex and focuses her attention on the 
scorched rug beneath William's crib, noting how the 
burn has eaten through the woven fibers.  Scraping 
scraps and fragments into a small glass jar, she tries 
valiantly to maintain the detached, scientific 
composure she has relied on in the past.  She's seen 
these marks before, knows with certainty what caused 
them, and her blood chills when she considers what this 
means for her son.

They do not speak, but move with fluidity, collecting, 
categorizing and analyzing.  Scully exchanges brief 
glances with Mulder, automatic, mechanical 
acknowledgments of discovery.  She wants to stop, to 
embrace him and claim a moment for their shared loss, 
but she knows they cannot afford emotion right now.

After they've been working for some time, Linda appears 
in the doorway.  "The police have been through this 
room five times already, you know."

Scully is startled by Linda's voice, having retreated 
into a clinical, professional zone.  "Our experience is 
that each search can yield new findings or open new 
avenues for investigation, Ms. Van de Camp," she 
explains flatly.

"Have you found anything?" Linda asks, hopefully.

"It will take some time to piece everything together, 
but I think I have some idea of which direction we need 
to pursue," says Scully.

"In fact," offers Mulder, settling himself into a 
rocking chair, "according to the databases I've 
searched, children matching William's description have 
been sighted in several locations across the west."

"The police haven't said anything about that."

"That's because it's not available through any official 
channels," explains Mulder.  "You'd be amazed at how 
hard it is to find something no one wants you to find."

"David!" says Scully sharply, glaring at Mulder before 
turning to Linda. "We don't want to alarm you, Ms. Van 
de Camp.  I assure you we have William's best interests 
at heart."

"Listen," Linda says, "I don't think I need to know why 
you're no longer a cop, Ms. Newland.  I understand why 
you want to find William... but I've watched enough cop 
shows to know they don't usually want someone quite so 
emotionally involved on a case."  She studies Scully 
for a moment.  "How did you end up here, so close to 
us?"

"I guess you could say that Deborah and I have become a 
little disillusioned with what traditional law 
enforcement has to offer," Mulder says with a smirk, 
"We've been in the Southwest pursuing our own leads for 
the past few months, cases that I believe are related 
to William's disappearance."

"David, is it?  I didn't quite catch your full name.  
You're Deborah's... partner, right?" Linda asks.

Scully breaks in before Mulder can answer.  "He's my 
husband, Ms. Van de Camp.  We were partners, and 
married last year---after we left our former jobs.  
He's helped me through some difficult times."

Linda nods. "Mr. Newland, what do you mean about things 
being related to William's case?"

"I'd like to hear this, too," says Joe, joining them, 
peering anxiously around the room, "Something just 
seems off to me."

"Shh, Joe," scolds Linda, "just listen."

"He means that I... we... made quite a few enemies in 
the past," Scully again answers for Mulder, throwing 
him a stern look.  "We pursued criminals with... rather 
dangerous agendas.  For years we worked to expose these 
organizations, against men with the resources to 
retaliate.  It's the main reason I chose to give 
William up for adoption."

"What, like the mafia, organized crime?" Joe asks.

"Not exactly," Mulder replies, "but it was a similar 
sort of danger.  Groups with much to gain and secrets 
to keep... who were willing to defend their deceit 
through any means necessary.  We're not sure how they 
found him, but we have reason to believe that they are 
using William to get to Deborah."

"Excuse me," Joe says, "but why would anyone choose to 
bring a child into a situation like that?"

"Joe..." cautions Linda, tapping his arm.

"No, damn it!" he says, raising his voice sharply, "I 
think it begs the question!  You were a woman in a 
dangerous position, with opponents ready to retaliate 
at any time.  You've implied that your life was 
regularly in danger.  Why subject an innocent child to 
that kind of life?"

Scully remains frozen, unable, unwilling to respond.  
She glances at Mulder, his face a blank mask.

*"I don't want this to come between us, Scully..."*

"Deborah," Linda begins softly, "I won't apologize for 
my husband.  He loves... we both love William so much, 
and we're just trying to find some meaning in this 
terrible mess.  But we haven't walked in your shoes, so 
we can't begin to know what you went through."

"I made some mistakes," Scully admits, "but I love 
William.  He was something I never expected... and I 
tried to do what was best for him."

"You don't have to defend yourself, Deborah," Mulder 
suddenly breaks in, "You were alone.  You did the best 
you could in a bad situation.  You shouldn't have to 
answer for that."

He turns to Joe, fixing him with an intense stare. 
"What's clear to me is that William is not safe here.  
Only my wife and I understand the situation to such a 
degree that we can anticipate the danger and protect 
him."

"I think you're out of line, Mr. Newland.  This was out 
of our control!" argues Linda. "All we've done since 
William became part of our family is to love and 
protect him and give him our best."

"And obviously your wife does not agree with you," says 
Joe, "since she gave him up."

Irritated, Scully opens her mouth to speak, but Mulder 
acts first.

"That's a situation I intend to rectify," Mulder says 
sternly, "*when* we find him."

"Rectify?" Joe asks. "Pardon me, but aren't you a 
little late to this party to change anything?  William 
is our son now, and I don't believe you have any legal 
right to him."

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, Mr. Van de Camp," 
says Mulder, rising to his full 6'2". "I'm William's 
biological father."

Scully gapes at Mulder with a strange mixture of 
disbelief and wonder.

"His father?" Linda draws a deep breath. "The agency 
said there was no father in the picture, just a single 
mother making a lifestyle decision."

Scully purses her lips, then slowly begins to speak, 
"That was true... at the time. Mul... David was out of 
my life after William's birth."  She glances at Mulder.  
"It was a complicated situation.  We couldn't make 
contact.  At the time of the adoption, we had not 
spoken for several months."

"I never signed off on the adoption," Mulder says 
bluntly, "Legally, William is still my son."

"I don't want to think about this right now," says 
Linda, her hands on her forehead, "I just want my son 
back.  I just want to know that he is safe."

She turns to Scully and abruptly grabs her hands, 
looking deep into her eyes, their souls bared in a 
moment of mutual maternal pain. "Deborah... if you 
truly have the knowledge he says you have... if you 
truly are an investigator... then I want you to find 
him.  I want you to find him for all of us.  I know, I 
can feel that you love your son... my son... "

Scully has not allowed herself to cry freely yet, but 
faced with this woman's open wounds, she's suddenly 
aware of her own.  She wonders what it must be like to 
feel so intensely.  For survival's sake, she's carried 
her pain around like a handbag.  Necessary, even useful 
sometimes, but not a part of her.  After Emily, she 
can't remember the last time she allowed sorrow to 
fully permeate her being, certain that it would have 
destroyed her.

But now she meets Linda's anguished gaze and lets her 
tears flow, drenched and soaking in the love and loss 
they both feel for the same little person, the center 
of both their universes.

"I will find him," she whispers, "I'll find him for 
everyone."

For this moment, she believes her words. 

**********

Her head is spinning on the way back to the motel, the 
promises and accusations and implications of their 
visit torturing her with their intensity.  She can't 
articulate what she's feeling, so she remains silent.

"Are you pissed at me, Scully?" Mulder asks, eyes on 
the road.

She doesn't reply.  Doesn't even turn to look at him.

"I just opened my mouth and revealed everything you 
asked me not to share... not to mention how I really 
feel about this shit," he says, glancing at her for a 
moment.  "I'm sorry, Scully.  I'm sorry I went off on 
that guy... but it was the truth.  William was never 
safe there," he pauses, swallowing. "And I do want him 
back.  I spent half my life searching for my sister, 
trying to piece my family back together.  Do you think 
I'd let my son go that easily?"

She feels a sudden rush of shame, but she's so weary of 
that as her first reaction.  "I know you wouldn't, 
Mulder.  You never would have let me go through with 
the adoption... had you been there.  But you weren't 
there."

She stares out the window for a moment.  "Do you mean 
that?  Do you really want to fight for custody of 
William when he's found?  Can we even do that with our 
legal status?  Won't that be like giving ourselves up?  
Total exposure for us and William?"

"I don't know, Scully," Mulder breathes, "I just want 
William out of harm's way.  I don't believe two 
ordinary people with no knowledge of the danger he's in 
can keep him protected.  I know our life is uncertain, 
transient, no place for a child... but part of me 
thinks we're his only chance."

"We really can't make decisions like this right now, 
Mulder.  We've got to find him first," says Scully, her 
practicality returning.  "And we will," and she treats 
Mulder to a rare smile.

He pats her leg affectionately.  "You know, she reminds 
me a little of my mother," he says.

"Who?"

"Linda Van de Camp."

"Is that a good thing?" Scully thinks of the cool, 
distant woman she'd encountered only briefly under the 
most difficult circumstances.

"Not the person you knew, Scully," he says, noting her 
skeptical look, "That woman was long gone by the time 
you met her.  But before Sam was taken, my mother was 
very open and loving, and she protected us with the 
ferocity of a mother bear.  I see that in Linda."  He 
pauses, thoughtfully.  "I donÕt have to tell you how 
losing a child can change a person, Scully.  I hope she 
doesn't lose those qualities the way my mother did."

She listens, frowning, her thoughts jumbled and 
complicated.  She doesn't want to hear about parallels 
and losses.  The strain of keeping all her stories 
straight and her defenses armed has exhausted her.

"I was wondering about something else, too, after 
listening to some of the facts today," he continues.

In spite of herself, Scully raises an eyebrow at 
Mulder's speculation.  So rare these days, she listens 
with amused interest.

"I'm wondering if there's any significance to Linda Van 
de Camp's infertility.  And the fact that she was 
adopted," Mulder muses.

"Don't tell me you're thinking she's an abductee, 
Mulder." Scully rolls her eyes.

"I'm not saying she is.  I'm just saying that it's 
interesting."

"Mulder, as much as you would like to blame alien 
abduction for all the ills of the world, not all 
infertile women are abductees," Scully sighs, "some are 
just infertile."

Mulder smiles.

********

In the middle of packing, they hear a clear, rhythmic 
knock on the door.  Unaccustomed to visitors, they 
exchange wary looks.  Mulder reaches for his gun.  
Scully opens the door to find a middle-aged Native 
American man.  Najavo?  Something about him is 
strangely familiar.

"Dana Scully?" he asks, catching Scully at a loss for 
an answer.  

Was she?

"You might remember my father.  He spoke..." he pauses 
and smiles, "speaks highly of you."

Scully's still puzzled, but a flare of recognition 
begins to light.

"My name is Ernest Hosteen," he says, "I was asked to 
come here."

*******

One and one half wandering Jews
Free to wander wherever they choose
Are traveling together in the Sangre de Cristo
The Blood of Christ Mountains in New Mexico.
On the last leg of a journey 
They started a long time ago.
The arc of a love affair,
Rainbows in the high desert air.

--Paul Simon, "Hearts and Bones"

******* end part 3 *********