Title: Thicker Than Water
Author: Arsenic
Rating: Uh, G
Disclaimer: All CC's
Thanks: To Pollyanna, for taking time out for another wheel and Sarah, for my lyrics.
Notes: Okay, I am sorry for acknowledging the eighth season and that this is so infernally short and really really not up to what I would usually consider my standards. I'm having some fandom issues right now and I just have to thank Sarah for sending me a song that actually sparked something, b/c the imagination font has been running completely dry.

*

"So, you're just never going to talk to your father again?"

"That question always made so much more sense when I thought I had a father." Sixteen year-old Will glared at his mother in full-blown teenage rebellion.

Scully sighed and closed the door to her son's room, figuring it would make it slightly harder for Mulder to eavesdrop. Not that it would prevent him from doing it. The thought almost made her laugh. "Why have you reverted to being six, Will? Just because you don't have his DNA doesn't change the fact that you think like him, act like him and annoy me as much as he does from his having been your second parental unit since day one. Besides which, in true paternal fashion, you would most definitely not be around if it hadn't been for his efforts."

"If all this is so true, what took you so long to get around to telling me that not only am I not 'biologically' his, I'm not fucking 'biologically' anyone's?"

"Don't swear, Will. We wanted to wait until we thought you understood that biology is unimportant. Should we have waited longer?"

Will opened his mouth to answer and then shut it as the question sunk in. When he finally answered, his voice was soft and unsure. "I feel like a freak. I mean, you guys just said I was smart and y'know, that was dorky, but okay. But I'm not just smart or just strong or just anything, and I'm not his, so what am I? And why does he want me? Or does he? Is he just here for you?"

Scully moved closer so as to ruffle her son's hair. "You're his freak. I think he loves you more for that than he could for all the genetic ties in the world."

"Thanks mom, that's incredibly reassuring."

"What I'm here for."

*

"Hey kiddo."

Will looked up from his book to where his father's form was framed in the doorway.

Mulder smiled uneasily, "I got us something." He held up a Blockbuster tape and Will didn't have to ask. It was a bad sci-fi movie.

Will looked thoughtfully down at the page he was reading. "D'you get me Twizzlers?"

Mulder held up his other hand, displaying the sought out item and Will grabbed the closest thing that could double as a bookmark.

*

"He watched the movie with you?" Scully tapped her finger against her orange juice glass and spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Will.

"I bought him candy." Mulder shrugged. "He didn't talk, not really."

"Sixteen years of raising a child hasn't given you a drop of patience."

"He's talking to you, and I mean, it's not like I was the only one who knew all this time."

"The way he sees it, I have to love him, regardless of how much of a brat he acts like towards me. You obviously have the option of just getting up and walking out."

"And I've obviously had that option for sixteen years. Why the hell would I do it now?" Mulder was breathing faster in frustration.

"Did you ever stop worrying about whether your father loved you or not?" Scully looked him in the eye, daring him to avoid the point.

"You have the really annoying tendency of making good points all the time."

Scully smiled, "I sympathize with your pain."

*

Mulder cut his hand attempting to fix the plumbing in the bathroom sink, regardless of Scully's firm warning to stay away from it. Hearing the cussing and being aware that there was a covert op taking place where it was coming from, Will shook his head and rummaged through the medicine drawer to find some antiseptic and a band-aid. He brought it to the bathroom where Mulder was washing his hand in the bathtub, too afraid to turn the taps of the work-in-progress sink.

Will watched the water turn less and less pink with each stream of cold water, hypnotized by the swirling shades. Mulder turned the water off and reached expectantly for the goods, stopping when he saw Will's expression. "What's up?"

"Your blood's the same color as mine."

Mulder took the antiseptic from his son's fingers. "You've seen me bleed before Will, this is not news."

Will shrugged and set the band-aids on the rim of the tub. "The truth just makes everything seem different, I guess."

*

"Congrats, babe." Scully ignored the fact that her son was one big sweat puddle and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I know you really wanted this."

He grinned at the state basketball championship trophy in his hands and didn't act embarrassed, so both of his parents knew exactly how big a deal this was to him. He practically bounced when he announced, "They want me to try out for all-state."

"That's amazing, Will. We're so proud." Scully couldn't resist kissing him again.

Will looked at his father, who had yet to say anything. "Y'wanna maybe play some one-on-one this weekend?" He scuffed his fancy running shoes against the perfectly-polished floor of the court. "Go back to my roots and all."

Mulder nodded, "It's always good to remember where you came from."

*

Will frowned as he noted that he had accidentally set all the forks on the wrong sides of each plate. In his frustration, the question that was fired to the man pouring iced tea in the kitchen came out differently than he had planned. "Do you ever wish I was really yours?"

The sound of iced tea and ice overflowing was all that could be heard for a few minutes. "I guess sometimes I wish that my genes had created something so perfect."

"But, I mean-"

"Look, Will, who taught you to play basketball?"

"You."

"To drive?"

"You again."

"To make peanut butter and sunflower seed bars and indulge in them while your mother is not around to freak out about evil fat?"

"Lemme see, you."

"To tear Michael Crichton books apart at the same time that you're busy enjoying them?"

"I'm pretty sure I get the point."

"Here's the thing Will, my father, maybe I was biologically his, maybe not. But it wasn't that question that kept me feeling distant from him my whole life."

"You don't know if you were your father's son or not?" Mulder shrugged, "My father was not a talkative man, and though we share so many secrets, there are some we never tell. That was my father's secret. It was kind of irrelevant though."

"What was relevant?"

"Whether he loved me or not."

"Did he?"

Mulder's smile was ironic. "I wanna believe."

Will's eyes strayed to the wet spot on Mulder's jeans from the spilt iced tea and listened to the strains of the sci-fi channel filtering in from the den. His smile was pure, "I do."

*

Lyrics to The Stranger
By: Billy Joel

The Stranger

Well we all have a face
That we hide away forever
And we take them out and show ourselves
When everyone has gone
Some are satin some are steel
Some are silk and some are leather
They're the faces of the stranger
But we love to try them on

Well we all fall in love
But we disregard the danger
Though we share so many secrets
There are some we never tell
Why were you so surprised
That you never saw the stranger
Did you ever let your lover see
The stranger in yourself?

Don't be afraid to try again
Everone goes south
Every now and then
You've done it, why can't someone else?
You should know by now
You've been there yourself

Once I used to believe
I was such a great romancer
Then I came home to a woman
That I could not recognize
When I pressed her for a reason
She refused to even answer
It was then I felt the stranger
Kick me right between the eyes

Well we all fall in love
But we disregard the danger
Though we share so many secrets
There are some we never tell
Why were you so surprised
That you never saw the stranger
Did you ever let your lover see
The stranger in yourself?

Don't be afraid to try again
Everyone goes south
Every now and then
You've done it why can't someone else?
You should know by now
You've been there yourself

You may never understand
How the stranger is inspired
But he isn't always evil
And he isn't always wrong
Though you drown in good intentions
You will never quench the fire
You'll give in to your desire
When the stranger comes along.