From: "Mary ." <zoonr@hotmail.com>
Date: Mon, 17 Apr 2006 21:41:26 -0400
Subject: "Mesabi Ferrum" by Zoonr
Source: direct

PART SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Alexandria, Virginia
Summer 2000

"When do you leave?" Scully asked.  She wandered around 
Mulder's apartment as he flitted from room to room, 
gathering items to pack for his trip.  She'd been picking 
up random objects -- a framed photograph, a miniature jade 
alien, a book -- setting them down without really looking 
at them.  She just wanted to touch pieces of him before he 
left.  She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt such a need to 
connect with him.   They had gone on hundreds of trips, 
dozens of them without the other, over their seven years as 
partners.  Somehow, this time was different.

"First available flight is in four hours.  Skinner tried to 
get something sooner, but no luck," Mulder said.  

"Oh," she said, not really hearing him.

"Scully?"

"Hmmm?" she answered as she picked up a stapler from his 
desk.  

"Are you okay?"  There was concern in his voice and it 
snapped her attention away from the meaningless object, 
towards him.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Are you sure?  Are you feeling sick again?"

"No, no, Mulder.  I think whatever that was has passed," 
she said.

"Then what's wrong?"  He stepped closer, throwing the shirt 
he held onto the corner chair.  "I've never seen you so 
fascinated by office supplies before."  

She smiled contemplatively and set the stapler back down.  
"I guess I'm still uncomfortable with this trip.  Something 
doesn't feel right."

"I'll have the Skin-man with me," he said, light in his 
eyes, a soft smile on his lips.  He was trying to soothe 
her, but she knew he understood the danger as well as she 
did.  She returned his smile, trying to reassure him, too, 
and leaned backwards against his desk with her hands on the 
edge supporting her.  He continued, "This is just another 
day in the life on the X-Files.  I'm sure I'll come back 
with more questions than answers.  It's no different than 
any other trip."

"If that were true, I'd be going with you," she said hoping 
there was no accusation creeping into her voice.  It was as 
much her decision as it was his, or so she had convinced 
herself.  He closed his mouth tightly, and looked down like 
he'd been rapped on the knuckles with a ruler.  "Its okay, 
Mulder," she said, stepping closer to him, sliding her arms 
around his waist, clasping her hands together behind his 
back.  "You know this is different now.  We're different 
now.  I just can't shake the feeling that something is 
about to change."

"Sometimes change is good," he said, looking down at her, 
lifting his brow.

"Sometimes," she echoed.  She turned her head and laid it 
against his chest, pulling him tightly against her.  After 
a long moment, she felt him pull away slightly.  She looked 
up as he lowered his head and kissed her lips softly. 

"Change can be very good," he said and kissed her again.  

It started innocently enough, but quickly turned frenzied, 
hungry.  They had only been together a handful of times 
since their relationship had taken the inevitable turn 
towards intimacy.  Each time had been slow and tender.  She 
had never felt a need to dig her nails into his skin and 
claim him like she did now.  She could tell by the way he 
kissed her that he felt it, too.  The previous times they'd 
made love had felt like beginnings, exploration of new 
territory, but this already felt like goodbye.  

*Goodbye for now* she forced herself to qualify.

Without breaking the kiss, she unbuttoned his dress shirt, 
pushed it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.  
She slid her hands over his white t-shirt-covered chest, 
over his clavicle, down his slim but toned sides.  She 
twisted the bottom front of his t-shirt, bunching it in her 
fingers, and used the soft cotton as a rope to pull him 
towards her and through his bedroom door.  

Scattered all over his bed were clothes he'd been in the 
middle of packing along with a large blue duffle bag.  She 
barely got her suit jacket off before he had pushed her 
backwards onto the bed, shoving the bag carelessly to the 
floor where it landed with a muffled puff.  As his lips 
searched over her face, touching a different spot per 
second, they each absently threw the remaining clothes, 
both those from his bed and those they still wore, to meet 
the same fate as the duffle, until finally only skin was 
between them.

And this, wonderful as it was, felt like goodbye, too.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 27, 2012
10:34 am

"Scully, you look like hell," Mulder said, looking up to 
see her standing over him.  He had been studying a worn-out 
map one of the others had given him.

"Thanks, Mulder.  You always did know how to flatter a 
girl.  I can't believe it took me seven years to sleep with 
you," she said, in exaggerated robot-like tone.

"Scully!" he said, gasping in mock-shock at her language.  
In response she merely rolled her eyes.

Mulder noticed her right hand was clenched tightly, holding 
something he couldn't see. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at nothing in the 
distance somewhere above his head.

"Trying to figure out the shortest route," he said.  He 
didn't need to explain to where.  Earlier in the morning 
Tom had explained to them that there were two "mother 
ships" within reasonable reach of their current location.  
Tom estimated they had until December 31 or January 1 at 
the latest to deliver the serum.  After that, the aliens 
would probably have had their ceremony and been given his 
booster shot to allow them to safely colonize the rest of 
the planet.  Once scattered on the Earth's surface, it 
would be nearly impossible to defeat them.  

That left them only three or four days to find the ship and 
release the new super serum Scully and Tom had been working 
on since yesterday.  Unfortunately, Tom only knew of 
general areas where the ships might be hovering.  The only 
positive piece of news was that each ship was enormous with 
a diameter not measured in feet or yards, but miles, so 
they would be easy to spot.  And having already conquered 
most of Earth, they would have little need to cloak 
themselves.  

So they had two choices: head towards Saint Louis, Missouri 
or San Francisco, California.  San Francisco was closer by 
about four hundred miles, but the highways would be much 
more congested with abandoned cars in California.  Mulder 
felt Saint Louis would be the best choice.  Either way, it 
was a gamble.

"When will you leave?" she asked, still not looking at him.

"Luckily, we should be able to make San Fran or Saint Louis 
in two days, but that's still cutting it closer than I'd 
prefer.  I want to be back here by the 1st.  It all depends 
on when you and Tom think you're ready with the serum."

"It's ready," she said simply.

Mulder stood up, folded the map haphazardly, and let it 
drop to the bench.  It missed and landed on the dirt-
covered rock ground instead.  "It's ready?"

"Well, we still have to test it on the body... but yes," she 
said, opening her hand to reveal a small vial of the new 
Super Mesabi Ferrum.  "I came over to tell you Tom and I 
are going out to the crash site.  Monica is taking us."

"Let me grab a jacket and I'll be ready to go," he said, 
already moving towards the tent that had become their home.

"No," she said quickly.  He stopped and turned to look at 
her, raising his brow in question.  She softened her voice.  
"Stay here with Will.  I don't want him to come with us, 
but I don't want to leave him alone, either." 

"He won't be alone."

"Please, Mulder.  Just stay with him," she said, exhaustion 
making her sound more desperate than she would have 
admitted to being.

"Okay," Mulder agreed, understanding her need to control 
the situation while she still had the chance.  "We have 
preparations to make anyway."

The corner of Scully's mouth twitched in a melancholic 
smile.  "Thank you.  We'll be back soon," she said.  "If it 
works, then you can leave before it gets dark."  She turned 
to head back to the cave.

"Scully?"

She twisted her upper body around to look at him, but 
didn't speak.

"Never mind," he said, having no idea what he had wanted to 
say.  "I'll see you when you get back."

She nodded and walked away.  Mulder sighed and set off to 
find William.  They had a lot to do before their journey.  
Mulder hoped this would not be their last together.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kayenta Valley
December 27, 2012
11:52 am

"It's just over that little outcropping of rocks," Monica 
said, pointing towards the spot where the alien ship had 
crashed.  She walked with Scully, a few yards ahead of Tom 
and Gibson, who at the last minute had decided to come 
along.

"I can smell it," Scully said, her face twisted as she 
sniffed the unpleasant combination of fuel and burnt flesh.

"I think it's worse now than when it happened," Monica 
said.

Gibson had decided to tag along, wanting to witness with 
his own eyes what he hoped was the beginning of the end.  
That thing at the crash site represented what he had felt 
blessed and cursed to have for his entire life, and he was 
surprised by how much he was looking forward to being near 
the alien when it burst into flames, or whatever would 
happen when the test of the serum succeeded.  

"It might not be that dramatic," Tom said, smirking.  

Gibson mimicked his smirk and said, "It's not that I'm 
bitter."

"You've suffered a lot in your life," Tom said.

"So have many others.  You... them," he said nodding towards 
the women.  "It's not that I want revenge.  I just want to 
see the end."

"Closure," Tom said with understanding.

"Closure," Gibson echoed in agreement.  "I wish I could go 
with you."  Tom sighed and Gibson quickly added, "But I 
know I can't.  I don't want Will to have to do this alone.  
I know how hard it can be and what he has to do is so much 
more than what I ever had to do.  It's overwhelming."

"He won't be alone," Tom said.

"Not until just before the end, anyway," Gibson said.  He 
stopped walking and stuck his hand out to stop Tom.  His 
face grew very serious.  "Keep an eye on Mulder.  Sometimes 
his passion gets in the way of his reason, but there's 
nobody else you'd want with you on a job like this.  That 
is, so long as you don't let him get you killed."  A slow 
smile spread across Gibson's face.

Tom smiled and laughed out loud.  "I'll try to remember 
that."

"Hey, you two slow pokes!  Come on!" Monica called.  She 
and Scully were standing only a few feet from the wreckage, 
so Gibson and Tom jogged the last few yards to join them.  

"Over there is where Joy turned the black oil into powder," 
Gibson said, indicating a spot on their collective left.  

"I wish I had more time to study that," Tom said.

"Let's do this," Scully said without much emotion.

Tom nodded and swung his backpack off his shoulder.  He 
knelt down on the ground and pulled a small lunch sized 
cooler out of the bag.  "You all might want to step back.  
I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen."

Gibson and Monica took a few steps away from the crumpled 
spaceship.  The body of the alien still sat in the cockpit.  
Its skin, normally gray, was a deep charcoal.  "Why didn't 
it turn into green goo like all the other aliens I've 
seen?" Gibson asked.

"That only happens when you rupture the sack in the back of 
the neck.  This guy was spit-roasted," Tom said as he 
opened the cooler and pulled out the small vial of serum.  
Scully stood next to him, not heeding his advice to move 
away.

"Doctor Scully, I would feel better if you stood over 
there," Tom said.  Gibson detected a note of nervousness in 
his voice.  Scully looked as if she would ignore him, but 
after a moment, she stepped over to where Gibson and Monica 
stood, away from the ship.  

Tom straightened up, and stepped forward closer to the 
body.  He kept the vial behind his back, clenched tightly 
in his fist.  "Please work," Tom muttered.  Gibson couldn't 
hear him, but he knew that's what Tom had said.  Finally, 
Tom moved his hand in front of his body, twisted the top 
off of the small glass container, and leaned towards the 
dead Gray's body.  He held the vial only inches away and 
immediately the body began to tremor.  With his free hand, 
he reached out and attempted to lift the visor the alien 
had over its face, but it crumbled leaving a large open 
area over its head.  "Here goes," Tom said, louder so that 
everyone could hear.  Then he poured the amber liquid over 
what had been the Gray's eyes and took a step back.

It seemed that nothing was going to happen.  Tom's 
shoulders slumped and he turned around to face the others.  
"Well, that doesn't mean it was a failure.  The body 
definitely reacted, but without a live specimen it's hard 
to say --"

"Whoa!" Monica said as a flame burst up from the alien, 
sounding like someone had suddenly squeezed a bellows to 
fan a fire.  The flame was small, and it lasted for only a 
second before it fizzled into a smoldering spiral of smoke.

Tom quickly turned around, his eyes wide.  "That's more 
like it," he said.

Gibson watched Scully's reaction from the corner of his 
eye.  She smiled, but Gibson saw anxiety cross over her 
face.  In spite of all of the fear she had for William and 
Mulder and the journey they had in front of them, she said, 
"We better get back then.  There's no time to waste."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 27, 2012
12:21 pm

Mulder wasn't sure why, but he'd been surprised by how 
little time it had taken him to pack.  All of his worldly 
possessions had either been destroyed when the missile hit 
the truck, or could fit into a small four-man dome tent, 
and most would be staying there with Scully.  All they 
needed was food, enough clothes to keep them warm, the 
serum and some other miscellaneous items.  He'd always 
loved traveling.  When he and Scully had been agents, and 
before William had come, he had thought of the random 
hotels they'd lived in while in the field as home more than 
he had his apartment.  But right now, he'd give anything to 
just stay still.  One way or another, this would be his 
last case.

He'd left William to pack a backpack an hour ago, but 
Mulder hadn't seen him since.  Even though William had 
volunteered to do this, Mulder still wondered if there 
wasn't a way to talk his son out of going.  Mulder could 
always put his foot down, force Tom to leave William 
behind, but he knew that would accomplish nothing.  Yet, he 
needed to know that William was truly prepared for what he 
was asking him to do.

Mulder wandered around the camp and finally found William 
inside the cave sitting on the rock floor next to a still 
unconscious Jeremiah Smith.

"Will, do you need any help with your bag?" Mulder asked, 
his voice lowered slightly above a whisper. 

William looked up, shook his head.  "I'm ready."

Mulder lowered himself to the ground.  His aching joints 
cracked as he crossed his legs over each other on the 
opposite side of Smith from William.  "I want to talk to 
you about that.  Are you sure you want to go?  I won't make 
you if you've changed your mind."

"I'm still going.  I don't have a choice," William said.

"Yes, you do.  It's a lot to ask of anyone.  It's going to 
be very dangerous.  It's probably very irresponsible of me 
to let you go," Mulder said, training his eyes on Smith's 
relaxed face for want of anything to look at besides 
William's eyes.

"My dad would have said 'no,'" William said.  

Mulder swallowed.  "Yes, he probably would have."

"Do you think he dreams?" William asked.

Mulder looked up, not understanding.  "Your dad?"

William shook his head, nodded towards Smith.  

"Oh," Mulder said.  "Probably he does."

"I think so, too," William agreed, more to himself.  "I'm 
ready to do this.  I know it will be scary, but you'll be 
with me, right?"

Mulder nodded.  "I'll definitely be with you."

"Good," William said.  "Then it's time."  William stood up.

"We can't leave until Scully and Tom come back," Mulder 
said, standing up, his joints creaking in reverse.  

"They're back," William said.  Then he did something Mulder 
had not seen him do for a long time.  William smiled from 
ear to ear, then his face settled into serene contentment.  
He held out his hand for Mulder to take.  When Mulder did, 
William added, "Let's go."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 27, 2012
3: 56 pm

Mulder loosely held Scully's hand as they walked from the 
tent to what could be considered the main gate to Canyon 
City, if there were actually a gate.  It was really just 
the place where the great high walls of the canyon tapered 
in towards each other creating a narrow opening, too small 
even for a vehicle to fit through.  It occurred to Mulder 
that they'd never held hands much before.  It had never 
been their style.  In private, they were very affectionate 
with each other, but even after they'd moved from partners 
and friends to lovers and parents their outward displays 
had remained reserved.  If he returned from this journey 
alive that was one thing Mulder planned to change.  He 
never wanted Scully to question how he felt about her, or 
to miss one opportunity to let the world know what she 
meant to him.

Mulder looked down, squeezed her hand.  She looked up, 
lowered a brow and Mulder saw the emotion he felt reflected 
back to him in her eyes.  "I love you, Scully.  You know 
that, right?" he said.

A faint whisper of a smile flitted over her mouth.  "I've 
never doubted it, Mulder.  I love you, too."

"But I want you to know --" he started.  She let go of his 
hand and touched her fingers to his lips, silencing him.  

"You can tell me later.  When you and Will come back," she 
said, then she added, "And, I will be expecting my New 
Year's kiss."  The kiss had become a tradition of theirs, 
as it was for many, but for them it was not merely a 
holiday ritual, but an anniversary of their first kiss and 
a symbol of new and wonderful things to come.  

Mulder laughed softly and nodded.  "Okay."  He laced his 
hand back with hers and they continued walking towards the 
gate.  A not-so-small group had gathered near the gate to 
send Tom, William and Mulder off on their mission.  Tom and 
William were already there waiting and were joined by 
Monica, Doggett, Gibson, Aiden, Joy and all of the children 
Tom had rescued from the laboratory.  William was talking 
with a few of the children, while the boy named Chris 
helped Tom load Monica's car.

"I'm always late to the party," Mulder said, reaching his 
hand out to shake with Doggett's.  

"You're the guest of honor," Doggett said, shaking firmly.

"Nah, I'm the geek nobody invited."

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Doggett 
asked.

"I'd love to have you, but I had to sell my soul to get 
this ticket.  It's Tom's ship.  Thank you for asking, 
though," Mulder said.

Monica scooted up next to Doggett and Mulder stuck his hand 
out to shake like he had before.  Monica took one look and 
ignored the gesture.  She put her arms around him, pulling 
him tightly for a quick bear hug.  "Good luck and be 
careful," she said, releasing him.  "I expect to see my car 
returned in the same condition that I'm leaving it in.  
That's a rental and I plan on getting my deposit back."

"I'll do my best," Mulder said, laughing.   

"That means the car is scrap metal," Gibson said, stepping 
over to them.  Mulder grinned as he shook Gibson's hand.  
He regretted that he hadn't had much time to talk to Gibson 
since they'd arrived at Canyon City.  There had been a time 
when Gibson had been like a surrogate son to Mulder.  He'd 
relied on Gibson's unusual composure beyond his years to 
get through his separation from Scully and newborn William.  

Mulder glanced over to Scully.  She had moved away and was 
speaking with Tom, so Mulder pulled Gibson closer.  "Keep 
an eye on her for me while I'm gone, okay?" he said in a 
low voice.

Gibson nodded.  "She'd kick your ass if she heard you say 
that."

Mulder smiled.  "I know.  I'm looking forward to it," he 
said.  He turned back to watch Tom move away from Scully.  
His eyes settled on William who was surrounded by the other 
children, some William's age, some younger and a few older.  
Mulder did not need to be telepathic to know how badly 
Scully wanted to wrap her arm around William and never let 
go.  He admired her for her ability to leave him in spite 
of that impulse. 

"You okay?" Mulder asked, sidling up next to her, slipping 
his arm over her shoulder.

She smiled sadly.  "No, but when you bring him back I will 
be," she said.  "Look," she added, nodding towards William.  
Joy stood next to him.  She looked like she wanted to tell 
William something, but she hesitated.  Instead, she pulled 
a box of Sweet Tarts from behind her back and held them 
with two hands in front of her stomach.  She paused for a 
moment before she quickly thrust her hands and the box 
towards William.  He accepted the gift, smiling graciously.  
Then the girl surprised them all.

"Good luck, Will," she said before quickly turning on her 
heels and running away.

"Oh my God!" Monica said, covering her mouth with both 
hands.

"We were beginning to wonder if she'd ever say anything 
again," Doggett said, wrapping an arm around Monica.  
"Guess things are looking up already."  

They stood quietly together for a moment, each knowing that 
time was growing short, but wanting to stretch it as long 
as possible.

"Oh, Mulder, I almost forgot," Scully said, stepping out of 
his embrace and reaching behind her back with her healthy 
arm to pull out her gun.  "It's got a full clip and I stuck 
a box of ammunition in your backpack."

"Scully, you should keep that.  I can't do much damage to 
the aliens with it anyway.  Plus, you were always a better 
shot than me.  I'll probably just lose the thing," he said.

"Well, that's true, but you'll need it much more than I 
will.  I'm in the safest place on the planet."

"Scully --"

"Mulder, just take it.  Who knows who or what you'll find 
out there," she said.

Mulder relented, taking the weapon and putting it safely 
into his backpack to join the box of ammo.  "Well," he 
said, drawing the word out, "we should get moving.  Ready 
to go, Tom?" he called.

A few feet away, Tom nodded and threw one last item into 
the little Honda.  Mulder watched him hug Chris, who looked 
slightly uncomfortable with the gesture.  He didn't pull 
away, though and eventually wrapped his arms around Tom in 
return.  Doggett and Monica had moved away, so that Mulder 
and Scully now stood apart from the others.  

Mulder touched his finger to Scully's face, sliding it 
along her jaw and then he kissed her softly.  "We'll both 
see you soon," he whispered.  She didn't say anything in 
return, but Mulder saw everything he needed to hear in her 
eyes.

When he looked away from her, he was surprised to see 
William only a few feet away watching them.  "Are you ready 
to go, big guy?" Mulder asked.

William nodded and took a step forward towards Scully.  
Mulder glanced at her.  Her face was fighting for control 
over her emotions and losing.  She was still not sure what 
role she had in William's life.  They had grown closer 
during their trip to Canyon City, but since Rob's death, 
William had retreated from her.  

"I want you to stay safe," she said, bending over as much 
as she could without jostling her arm too much.  "The 
minute you're too afraid to continue, you tell Mulder you 
want to come back here."

William pressed his lips together, tensed his chin.  "I'll 
be okay," he said.  He stuck his hand inside his pocket, 
pulled something out.  "I still have this," he said opening 
his hand to reveal the finger smudged golden badge she had 
given to him for Christmas.

Mulder heard Scully suck in a shaky breath, and watched one 
renegade tear fall down her cheek in spite of her attempt 
to hold it back.  

"I'll be okay, Dana," he repeated as he stepped forward and 
carefully wrapped his arms around her waist avoiding her 
injured arm.  After the initial shock wore off Scully's 
face, she slid her right arm over William's shoulder and 
clutched onto his jacket, holding him tightly.  

As Mulder watched the woman he loved and their son embrace, 
he wanted to believe what William had said would be the 
truth.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Canyon City
December 27, 2012
5:46 pm

"Hey, Monica!" John called from ten feet behind her.  He 
hadn't meant to say it quite so loud, but she reacted like 
he'd dropped a thousand pound bomb next to her rather than 
simply said her name.  The pita bread sandwich she'd been 
very slowly preparing flew out of her hands and landed on 
the dirt with a sticky plop.  

"Jesus, Monica, I'm sorry," he said stepping closer to 
stand in front of her.  "You must have been a million miles 
away just now."

She bent over, picked up the ruined pocket of pita bread, 
as her cheeks turned a deep red.  "I think I was.  Sorry," 
she said.

"What were you thinking about?"

She shrugged.  "Nothing specific.  Making the perfect PB 
and J.  Mulder and Will.  The fate of the world and the 
impending alien Colonization."

"So, nothing too heavy, then," he said flatly.  

"Nothing much," she said mimicking his tone, then smiling 
broadly.

"Well, I just came over to ask if you wanted to come with 
me."

"Where are you going?"  Monica asked brushing her hands 
together to remove the dirt acquired when she had picked 
the filthy piece of bread off the ground.

"Thought I'd take a drive back out to the parking lot.  
Search the wreckage one more time to see if anything is 
salvageable.  We didn't really have the time before.  
Besides, I'm going crazy in this camp," he added.  "I hate 
just sitting around waiting for something to happen."

Monica put her hands on her hips.  "Thanks for the offer, 
but I think I'll take a rain check," she said sounding less 
sure than he'd ever heard her before.  He had a suspicion 
it had something to do with Joy.  Ever since the girl had 
spoken to William, Monica hadn't seemed quite like herself.  
Joy had yet to speak to Monica directly.  

"Monica, she's okay," John said.

"I know she is.  That's not why I don't want to go with 
you," she said a little defensively.

"Okay, all right," he said holding his hands up to 
surrender.  "I just thought it would be something to do."

"I'm sorry, John," she said stepping into his space.  "You 
should take Gibson or Aiden.  I don't want to leave Dana.  
She's resting now but I think she's in more pain than she's 
letting on.  You don't happen to have any Vicodin lying 
around, do you?"

He smirked.  "No, I don't, sorry."

"I just want to make sure I'm here in case she needs 
anything.  I was trying to make some sandwiches.  I don't 
think she's eaten since yesterday, and that was because 
Mulder made her."

"That's not good," John said.

Monica turned her head quickly and John followed her gaze.  
Joy and some of the other children ran by, laughing.  Joy 
caught Monica's eyes, smiled and waved.  Monica returned 
the gesture, but before Joy noticed, she was off again on 
some adventure with her adopted siblings.

"It's amazing, isn't it," she said, still looking to where 
the kids had been standing.

"What is?" John asked.

"The connection they all have.  Even with William, though 
they all just met him yesterday."  She turned back to look 
at John, smiled that broad smile again that only Monica 
could really pull off.  "She's so happy here."

"Yeah, seems so.  I suppose people tend to bond with people 
they are similar to.  Makes it easier to understand what 
they're going through and those kids aren't like anyone 
else but each other."

"What about us?"

"What about us?" he asked, wondering when he missed the 
shift in topic.

"Well, we're not similar at all, yet I think we have a 
special bond."

Not a shift in topic, just in subject.  Caught up to her 
train of thought he asked "You don't think we're alike?"

"Ah... no."

"Okay, you're right, but instead we have common experiences 
and that's just as good.  Sometimes it's better."

"Do you think we'd be as close as we've become without 
those common experiences?" she asked.  John had never 
applied coyness to Monica, but he did now.  She was 
fishing.  He found it impossibly cute.

"Honestly, no.  I am not your type," he said.

"What is my type?"

John scratched the back of his head, made a face like he 
was in deep thought.  "The kind of guy who goes to Grateful 
Dead concerts," he said.

She tapped him hard on the chest.  "How old do you think I 
am, John?"  She sounded offended, but she was smiling and 
her eyes sparkled with amusement.  

Smiling back he said, "I just mean that a meat and potatoes 
guy like me is a little too boring for you."

"I'm boring," she protested.

"Monica, my idea of a good time is sitting on my couch with 
a cold beer watching NASCAR," he said.  Abruptly, he 
stopped speaking and stood stone still.  "Holy shit!"  He 
ran his fingers through his hair.  

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern taking over the humor in 
her voice.

John waved his hand, warding off her alarm.  "It's okay.  I 
just realized that I'm never going to get to do that again.  
I mean, I *knew* it, but wow... it just hit me all at once 
exactly how much has changed.  No more NASCAR, no more 
Giants football games, no more hotdogs from Asad on the 
corner of 14th and Constitution.  That guy makes the best 
relish I've ever had.  *Made* the best relish I've ever 
had.  He's gone now.  It's all gone," he said.

"I know.  It's unbelievable, really," she said, quietly.  
"Do you think you'll go back?"

"Go back where?" he asked still dazed.

"To your house... back east.  I mean, once we get through 
whatever's coming," she clarified.

"I don't know.  I suppose," he said, then paused and shook 
his head.  "No, you know what?  There's nothing there I 
need that I can't get somewhere else.  I have pictures of 
Luke in my wallet and all the people who matter to me are 
right here.  You're here," he said, feeling his cheeks 
flush.  He'd never been particularly good at expressing his 
feelings verbally.  That, more than his son's death, had 
caused the failure of his marriage, but he was willing to 
try now, especially after his revelation that the world as 
he knew it was gone forever.  If now wasn't the time for 
changing his personal habits, that time would never come.  
"How about you?  Back to Mexico, maybe?"

Monica shook her head.  Her eyes remained bright, but her 
smile faded.  "I feel the same.  I don't want to leave Joy 
and I know she likes it here for now.  I was hoping you'd 
stay with us.  I know this place is a bit dull, but..."

John smiled, stepped close to her, finally deciding to be 
bold instead of letting her make all the moves.  He cupped 
her face in his hands, hesitating only to look into her 
eyes, then he gently kissed her.  His heart stopped briefly 
until she responded, leaning into his body, wrapping her 
arms around him and most decidedly kissing him back.  They 
mingled together for a long time until they softly parted. 

Monica grinned, touched his face, smoothing her fingers 
over his cheeks.  "See we're not so different.  Next thing 
I know, you'll be a 'Dead Head', too."

He laughed as he kissed her again.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 27, 2012
6:22 pm

Scully shifted her weight from her right side to the left, 
trying anything to become a little less uncomfortable than 
she was.  As she moved, her left elbow brushed against the 
arm of the green nylon camping chair she sat in, sending 
fire through her wounded arm all the way to the base of her 
neck.  She bit her lip to stifle a cry, trying to preserve 
her dignity even though there was no one else in the cave 
aside from Jeremiah Smith, who's bedside she watched over.  
She closed her eyes tightly and breathed deeply, waiting 
for the pain to subside.  

She dropped her research-filled notebook onto her lap and 
touched her good hand to her forehead, first using the back 
of her hand then her fingertips along her sweat-dampened 
hairline.  Her face was hot, even to her own hand.

"Dana?" Monica's voice was soft, tinged with alarm.

Scully opened her eyes, looked up.  Monica stood beside her 
chair holding a sandwich and a bottle of water.

"I thought I might find you in here," Monica said.  She 
glanced briefly to the corner of the cave where Smith was 
still unconscious on his bed of sleeping bags and air 
mattresses.  "I made you a sandwich.  I know you hate 
people mothering you, but you really should eat something.  
You don't look well, Dana."

Scully gave her best attempt at a sincere smile and came up 
just short.  "Thank you, Monica.  I'll try," she said, 
holding her hand out to accept the PB and J stuffed half of 
a pita.  

Monica pulled a matching chair closer to Scully and sat 
down, loosening the cap on the water bottle before setting 
it on the ground within Scully's reach.  She leaned 
forward, putting her elbows on her knees.  "How are you 
feeling?" Monica asked, frowning.

Scully set the sandwich on top of the notebook in her lap 
and picked at an edge.  Her stomach turned at the thought 
of eating it, though she knew she should.  Scully sighed.  
"Not very well.  I think my arm is infected," she said with 
little emotion but exhaustion.

"Oh, Dana, no.  I thought it was doing better.  Painful, 
but healing."

"It was, but infections are common enough in the best 
circumstances, and everything out here is covered in dirt."

"How long?"

"I'm not sure.  I wasn't feeling well this afternoon, but 
thought I was just tired from working on the serum all 
night.  I woke up about a half an hour ago with chills and 
the wound is definitely inflamed."

"What can I do to help you?"

"Unfortunately, nothing.  I don't have any antibiotics.  
I've applied more antiseptic cream from the First Aid Kit, 
but at this point, it won't do much good."

"What happens if you don't get what you need?"

"The wound will go septic and I'll go into shock.  Then 
I'll die," she said.

"The nearest town is twenty miles away.  It's pretty small, 
but there must be a pharmacy.  Tell me what you need and 
I'll go and get it.  We should have done this yesterday."

"Didn't have time," Scully said, her lip quivering as she 
inhaled.

"Oh, my god, Dana, you're shaking."

"Fever and chills are common symptoms of sepsis."

"Tell me what to get and I'll bring it back here.  
Penicillin?  Amoxicillin?"

Scully shook her head.  "Without knowing exactly what 
bacteria it is, it will be impossible to know which 
antibiotic would be the most effective.  If I go into 
shock, treatment typically includes re-hydration using 
intravenous fluids and high doses of combined antibiotics.  
I don't think you'll be able to find those and if you 
could, I'm not sure you could administer it.  By that 
point, I would probably be unconscious."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that.  Let me try, Dana.  
Please," Monica pleaded.  She grabbed Scully's notebook and 
a pen that had been lying on the floor and tore a blank 
page out, prepared to write down whatever Scully told her.

"Okay.  Get anything with '-cillin' at the end of it.  If 
you can find it, Tetracycline or Vancomycin would be 
better, but pay close attention to the expiration date.  
Mefoxin, Cefadroxil, Cefobid, Ultracef, which are all 
cephalosporin's, would be best.  They are broad spectrum 
antibiotics.  Better suited to fight unknown bacteria.  
Just get whatever you can find."

"I'll get Aiden and leave right away.  He should know the 
fastest route into town and he can help me dodge any alien 
lurkers or whoever else might be out there," Monica said, 
standing up.  "Hang in there, Dana, okay?"

Scully smiled tight lipped, nodded.  "Thank you, Monica.  
For everything.  Not just this."

Monica shook her head, not understanding.  

"You've always been a good friend, even when you didn't 
know me very well.  I never told you that.  I should have 
long before now."

"You can tell me again later.  I'll be back soon," Monica 
said and she was gone.  

Another chill shot up Scully's body.  She inhaled deeply 
and looked to Jeremiah Smith.  "Feel free to wake up any 
time."

^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been so long since he had been there, that at first 
he didn't recognize the two moons on the horizon and the 
red-tinted sky of his home.  He looked down at his fingers, 
long and gray and completely foreign to him.  He closed his 
eyes.  He may have been born on this world, but it no more 
felt like his home than if he were standing inside a black 
hole.  

The next thing Jeremiah Smith saw when he opened his eyes 
was darkness.  

Slowly, a faint blue light blinked into view, then another 
and another until he was aware he was standing inside a 
vessel of some kind.  A space ship most likely.  He looked 
down at his hands again, this time he saw the pinkish pale 
skin of human flesh.  He wiggled his fingers to make sure 
they belonged to him.  They did and he was surprised to see 
his hands were not restricted, neither were his feet.  

"Hello?" he called, his voice echoed inside the vast space.  
"Is anyone there?"

There was no answer.  He glanced around the ship.  It 
looked like he was in a control room of some kind.  The 
Bridge of the ship, maybe, but that made little sense.  He 
had never been permitted inside a control room, and he 
could not fathom why he would be here alone now.

"You always believed you were alone, even when you 
weren't," a voice boomed inside his mind.  Jeremiah looked 
around.  The source of a telepathic message was normally 
close by.

"I won't help you!" he shouted.  "This is wrong.  What 
right do you have to destroy an entire race?  An entire 
species?  One that is your progeny?"  Jeremiah continued 
whirling around, searching for a face.  He was tired of the 
Grays always hiding in the shadows.  He knew what would 
come next.  It always did -- the endless mindgames.  First, 
they would appeal to his sense of family, of loyalty, of 
honor, then would come bribery and finally unspeakable 
cruelty.  He always knew the torture would stop just short 
of his death.  He knew they needed him.  He had half a mind 
to just end his own life, not give them the satisfaction 
any longer.  

"That would sadden me a great deal, Jeremiah," the voice 
said.  

That was strange.  Never had the Grays called him by his 
human name.  In fact, they had never spoken to him in 
English, now that he thought about it.  Not when they spoke 
inside his mind.  

"You see yourself as human.  It makes sense for me to 
converse with you in your language of choice, does it not?"

"Who are you?" Jeremiah finally asked.  

"I think you know, though you only recently admitted that 
to yourself.  Humans and Grays have a bad habit of playing 
games with even themselves.  That keeps the truth from 
being revealed much longer than necessary."

"Do I know you?  Have we met?"

"You have done great work, but so much more must be done.  
William will yet need your help."

"William?  What do you know of William?" Jeremiah asked.  

"He is on a quest."

"Yes," Jeremiah said, more to himself.  Somehow he knew 
this.  William was traveling with Tom and Mulder.

"They are fulfilling my prophesy.  Soon there will be an 
end to this subjugation of one brother over the other.  One 
way, or another, all will end soon."

"How can I help him if I am here inside this ship?" 
Jeremiah asked, still skeptical of whoever this voice 
belonged to.  He knew there were other Grays loyal to his 
cause of peace, but he never knew of any with a ship such 
as this.  All of the Grays in power were determined to 
exterminate mankind and take over the planet, casting their 
petty revenge upon humanity.  

"You are not aboard a ship.  You are dreaming you are 
aboard a ship.  In actuality you are unconscious surrounded 
by friends at the place you have called home for several 
years."

"Unconscious?  Will I wake up soon if I am to help 
William?"

"No.  Hundreds of miles separate you and he and you will 
need deep concentration to maintain a link with his mind.  
You have already spoken with him in his dreams, and must 
speak with him again very soon.  You should familiarize 
yourself with this ship in the meantime while you wait for 
him to seek you.  He will need your knowledge and council."

"Who are you?" he asked again, exasperated.  

"If you do not know, then I cannot answer."

"Then why do you help me?  How can I believe this isn't a 
trick?"

"You must decide what you believe, and who you believe in, 
Jeremiah.  I help because even though I choose not to 
impose my will, sometimes a little nudge in the right 
direction is required."

Jeremiah believed he must be mistaken, but he thought he 
heard the voice laugh.  Grays were not typically known for 
their senses of humor.

"Pity," the voice said.  Suddenly, the lights inside the 
ship blinked out and Jeremiah no longer felt the source of 
the voice inside his mind.  

A moment later, the lights returned, brighter than before.  
The control room, which had been empty during his 
conversation with the voice, was now filled with Grays.  He 
froze, expecting someone to seize him.  No one did.  
Individuals walked past him without acknowledging his 
presence.  He turned to see someone coming towards him, but 
he was too slow to move, and the Gray walked right through 
him.  Jeremiah didn't feel anything.

"I'm dead," he said aloud.

Nobody heard him, either.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Interstate 44, Oklahoma
December 28, 2012
4 am CST

They were making excellent time.

The long stretches of desert highway through Arizona and 
New Mexico were virtually empty of stalled cars or other 
obstacles, and there was a definite advantage to traveling 
with a man who required very little sleep.  Taking Monica's 
Honda rather than one of Canyon City's extra SUV's was a 
good choice, allowing them to make fewer refueling stops.  
With no highway patrol to worry about, Tom could push the 
car as fast as he was comfortable driving within the 
vehicle's limits while Mulder and William got much needed 
rest.

Awake now, after a surprisingly sound six hours of sleep, 
Mulder straightened in his seat and tried to discern where 
they were through the early morning darkness.

"Just east of Oklahoma City.  Traffic's starting to get 
thicker," Tom said.  

Mulder chuffed at Tom's choice of the word traffic.  Rush 
hour had been frozen in time.  "How are you doing?  Need a 
break?" Mulder asked.  He cleared his throat, wiped some 
sleep from the corner of his right eye.

"No, I'm okay," Tom said unconvincingly.

"I think you should try to sleep a little.  You may not 
need it, but you look exhausted.  We'll need you at your 
best."

Tom smiled, scratched his head.  "Okay, thanks."  He slowed 
the car down and unnecessarily pulled over to the side of 
the road, bringing it to a full stop.  William slept as 
Mulder and Tom swapped positions.

Before Mulder put the car in drive he turned his head 
towards Tom.  "How close do you think we are?  I don't want 
to look up one moment to find we're under the damn thing."

"Not likely.  If we're on the right track at all, we'll see 
it long before we're under it.  The ship's scale is almost 
unimaginable."

"I think I was aboard one once," Mulder said.

"No, you were aboard a science ship.  Looks similar, but is 
a lot smaller and more maneuverable.  It has fewer crew and 
no passengers, except for the abductees," Tom said this 
like he was reading a description on a car he was 
interested in buying.

Mulder put the car in drive and pulled the car back onto 
the interstate without saying more.

"You're thinking that was a pretty cold synopsis of a 
horrifying experience of yours, aren't you?" he asked.

"No, I understand," Mulder said sounding like he didn't 
even though it was the truth.  "You weren't the man in 
charge, just the worker bee."

"Maybe, but I also believed that I was doing the right 
thing."

Mulder turned his head quickly towards Tom, then back to 
the road.

"At least, at first," Tom added.  "By the time I came to my 
senses, I was in too deep.  I'm no Fox Mulder," Tom said, 
smiling.

Mulder laughed.  "Yeah, most people give up after the 
second or third ass kicking," he said glancing over to his 
unlikely travel companion.

"It's true," Tom said, seriously.  "I really admired you, 
Mulder.  As precarious as your position always was you 
never gave up."

"I almost did.  More than once," Mulder admitted. 

"Why didn't you?"

"Scully.  She always pulled me back, or gave me focus, even 
if she didn't mean to.  And then Will came," Mulder said, 
nodding towards the back seat where William was slumped 
over, leaning his head on the rear passenger side door.  
"It's amazing how much one person can change your life.  
Even though he wasn't with us, he has been the driving 
force behind everything Scully and I have done for the past 
ten years.  I want him to grow up.  Have the life he 
chooses to live, not one that is predetermined for him."

Tom nodded, though Mulder suspected it was more out of 
something to do than true empathy.  The car grew silent 
again. Mulder looked out in front of him.  In the sky he 
could only see stars and wondered just when he would see 
what they were seeking.  And what they would do when they 
found it.  

"So, why don't you tell me this plan of yours," Mulder 
said.

^^^^^^^^^
Canyon City
December 28, 2012
3:35 am 

Monica gripped the leather seat of the soft top-covered 
Jeep as Aiden sped through rocky twists and turns back 
towards the camp.  She was convinced that if he didn't 
drive them over a cliff, one of his sudden jerks of the 
steering wheel would send her flying through the plastic 
window head first instead.  She didn't want to know how or 
if Aiden could see ahead fast enough to decide where to go.  
He seemed to be driving faster than the light of the Jeep's 
headlamps could project.

"I was never very good at physics, but I'm sure light can 
travel much faster than eighty," he deadpanned.  

"Ha, ha, ha.  Funny.  Seriously, could you slow down?  We 
won't be able to help Dana at all if we're dead."

"I think *I'd* survive a crash," he said.

"When did you grow this sense of humor?  I want my friend 
back.  The guy whose face didn't move when John drove an 
axe into his chest," Monica said.

"Relax Monica.  I've been driving out here for a long time 
now and I can see very well in the dark." 

"How well, or do I not want to know?"

"You don't want to know," he said.  

The radio crackled to life, startling Monica's frayed 
nerves even more, as John's voice came from the other end.  
"Monica, you there?  Where are you guys?"

Monica and Aiden had left to find antibiotics for Scully 
several hours earlier.  They'd gone to four pharmacies 
before they finally found what they'd been looking for.  
Seemed that in the day following the initial onset of the 
Plague, drugstores had been looted, either by thugs 
thinking they could profit on the chaos, or on people 
panicked by whatever was killing their friends and family 
members.  

They'd radioed back to John at the camp regularly, and he 
would report on Scully's condition.  She was still 
conscious, fitfully sleeping for short periods, but her 
fever seemed to be soaring and she couldn't stop shaking.  

Monica picked up the radio, pressed the button to talk.  
"We're almost there."

"Okay," John said simply, then added, "Hurry," and the 
radio was silent.  

Monica glanced over at Aiden.  He pressed his foot down on 
the gas pedal even more, and Monica just closed her eyes in 
prayer that they'd arrive at camp and that they wouldn't 
bee too late.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

North of Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
10:13 am

"Maybe we should have kept going east," Mulder said, 
squinting as he looked through the windshield to the sky 
above.  Thick overcast clouds stretched all across the 
horizon, but there was no sign of a massive space ship.

"No, it's got to be here somewhere," Tom insisted.  He'd 
read the reports, seen the maps.  One of the five ships had 
to be close, he was positive.  Nothing would preclude the 
aliens from moving, especially after he'd kidnapped the 
children.  Though, Tom was willing to bet that Claire and 
the Project leaders were doing their best to keep that 
truth from the Grays.  Above all else, Claire cared about 
her own ass first. 

"Well, I need to stop for another fill up," Mulder said 
slowing down to pull off of US Highway 61 and into a BP 
Station.  They'd just passed through Hannibal, the boyhood 
home of Mark Twain and this gas station looked to be the 
only sign of former civilization for several miles.  

The gas station was literally in the middle of nowhere, 
only the highway stretched to the north and south, to the 
east was the Mighty Mississippi River.  All three of them 
got out of the car, taking every opportunity to stretch 
their legs.

"Stay close by, Will," Mulder said as he unscrewed the gas 
cap.

William nodded and wandered near the main store doors, but 
was careful not to go inside.  

Mulder tried the pump first to see if it was connected to a 
generator, but it only clicked, so he and Tom began the 
familiar ritual of siphoning fuel directly from the main 
tanks.

"Tom, I really think you need to tell me your master plan," 
Mulder said, his brow creased in irritation, as he pried 
open the huge tank's heavy lid.  During the entire drive, 
Tom had successfully diverted Mulder's attention away from 
"the plan."  It wasn't because Tom didn't have a plan; it 
was because he wanted to keep Mulder in the dark about it, 
for Mulder's own safety and for William's.  For the safety 
of everyone still left alive on Earth.  

Tom glanced at William.  The boy caught his eye and looked 
down to his feet quickly.  Tom wasn't happy with what he 
had asked the boy to do, but he knew it was necessary.  
They needed to ditch Mulder.  The ship was close, Tom could 
feel it.  He could hear the voices of the Grays on board.  
Tom was *mostly* certain that once the ship was in view, he 
and William could easily get on board.  He was also 
*mostly* certain that it would ignore Mulder, though Tom 
would have preferred if Mulder was not around at all when 
the ship appeared, just in case.

To the sensors on the ship, William and Tom would appear 
like any other alien.  Mulder would just be a human.  One 
single human wandering around beneath a "Mother Ship" would 
not alert security forces.  Two "aliens" appearing on their 
sensors would initiate an auto-tractor beam to bring them 
into the ship.  With any luck, they would enter the ship 
with minimal attention.  Tom had allowed Mulder to come 
along, knowing he wouldn't' be able to stop him and 
understanding the importance of keeping a friendly face 
near William for as long as possible, though William had 
yet again showed composure beyond his years even while Tom 
explained his plan via the link between their minds.  

"You have no plan, do you?" Mulder asked.

Tom froze.  He'd been careful to control his thoughts.  
Mulder was getting better at picking them up.

"I don't have to read your mind.  It's written all over 
your face.  I used to do this for a living you know," 
Mulder said, shoving the end of a long hose they'd found 
into the car's gas tank.  

"You might be a little rusty," Tom said absently.  

"What the hell does that mean?" 

"Mulder, I told you before that your presence here will put 
William in danger.  I meant it."  

"You're planning to take William without me?" Mulder 
whirled around to face Tom squarely, crossing his arms.  

Tom sighed.  "You have to let us go.  It's the only way.  
You'll never get on board anyway."  

"You're not going anywhere without me.  I'm not leaving 
him."

"I'm sorry," Tom said.  He meant it.  He knew what Mulder 
had been through.  Tom had read about all of the personal 
costs this man and William's mother had suffered.  He 
wished he didn't have to inflict another.

"I will not sacrifice my son," Mulder said.  He pulled 
Scully's gun from his waistband and pointed it at Tom.

"You know that won't work on me," Tom said, tiredly.

"It'll hurt you.  Slow you down.  And it'll make me feel 
good," Mulder said.

"Mulder --"

"Wait!  Where's Will?"  Mulder looked around as he lowered 
the gun.  Tom looked as well.  Around the side of the 
station, and between it and the river, was a large flat 
field, splotches of snow dotted it, but mostly it was 
covered by brown lifeless grass.  In the middle of the 
field William stood.  He looked up to the sky, motionless.  
Tom followed the boy's gaze.  The sky was still mostly 
covered with dull, gray clouds, but directly above William 
a break in the overcast was opening up, swirling from the 
center like a vortex and expanding.  

Then a blue light shot out of the vortex, brighter than any 
light Tom had ever seen before.

"No!" Mulder yelled and ran towards William.  Tom started 
after him, stopped and opened the car door, grabbing two 
vials of the serum before he followed.  William spread his 
arms wide as he was lifted off the ground into the air.  As 
Tom got closer, he too felt his feet leave the ground in 
parallel to William.  Mulder glanced briefly towards Tom, 
then away, and increased his speed towards his son.  He 
reached him as William was slightly more than Mulder's 
height off of the ground.

Tom watched as Mulder grabbed at William's ankles, grasping 
pant legs, shoes, laces, anything connected to his son.  He 
continued to shout "No, no, no!"  Tom's heart broke for the 
man, but if all ended well, he'd be able to tell Mulder in 
person how sorry he was it had to come to this.  

Finally, Tom looked up into the light and watched as he 
drew closer to either heaven or hell.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

North of Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
10:29 am

This was not happening, Mulder thought, as he ran towards 
William at full speed.  Time had worn Mulder's body down 
more than he would have preferred, but he could still haul 
ass when properly motivated.  He had never been more 
motivated than he was right now.

William hovered eight feet off the ground by the time 
Mulder had reached him.  Without thinking, Mulder leapt, 
grabbing for any part of his son that he could hang on to.  
He missed.  His fingers grazed William's left pant leg, but 
Mulder couldn't hold his grip.  William continued to rise.  
He seemed to be caught in an alien tractor beam of some 
kind.  Mulder took a few steps backward and ran towards 
William once more as if trying to dunk a basketball.  He 
willed the muscles in his legs to give everything they 
could and not fail him.

Mulder jumped.  This time, he held on.

With one hand, he had a fistful of William's pant leg.  
Mulder's weight had slowed William's ascent a little bit, 
but Mulder could still feel them rising.  He'd rather pull 
William back to terra firma, but if necessary he would 
allow the tractor beam to take him along, instead.  

He would not let go.  

^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 28, 2012
9:33 am

Gibson watched fascinated as Scully's eyes fluttered in her 
sleep.  He was tempted to pry into her mind, see what she 
was dreaming about, but he didn't.  He didn't need 
telepathy to know.  She'd been talking on and off as she 
slept.  Not a lot, but occasionally a word would slip 
through her unconscious.  "Mulder."  "Will."  Words 
expected.

Monica had given Scully antibiotics in the early morning 
hours, but so far they'd had little noticeable effect.  
Gibson had no idea how long was reasonable before they 
noticed an improvement; he didn't understand exactly how 
the drugs should work either, but to him, she seemed worse.  
Her fever had spiked and she shook uncontrollably, even in 
her sleep.  He hoped she was only sleeping and not in a 
septic shock-induced coma.  He suspected she wouldn't be 
talking if that were the case.

"You have to get better," Gibson said softly, looking down 
at his hands rather than at her.  "I promised Mulder you'd 
be okay."

"I'm going to kick Mulder's ass for asking you to check up 
on me," Scully muttered weakly, her voice trembling with 
her shivering body.  Gibson looked up.  Scully had a faint 
smile on her face, though her eyelids drooped.  She was 
still very pale, but she was awake.

"I thought you were asleep," he said

"I was," she said, her smile fading, though Gibson thought 
that was due more to exhaustion than anything else.

"You were dreaming?"

"Mmm... yes," she said drowsily.  A strange mixture of 
sadness and contentment was etched on her face.

"About Mulder?  About Will?"  

Scully shook her head.  Blankets covered her body so that 
only her head poked out.  "About my mother," she said.

"A good dream?"  Gibson asked.   He wanted to keep her 
talking.  He was afraid that if he let her fall asleep 
again, she wouldn't wake up.

"A very good dream.  Mom and I were having Sunday brunch 
after church.  We used to have a semi-regular tradition.  
She always tried to squeeze me for information.  I would 
get so upset with her," Scully said.  Her brow creased and 
her lower lip pushed out in a slight pout, chasing away any 
glimmer of a previous smile.  "She only wanted to be a part 
of my life, and I wouldn't let her.  How terrible is that?"

"I think all children are like that to some degree with 
their parents," Gibson said.  Though some parents *aren't* 
as curious about *their* children, he thought.  His own 
parents had rarely asked him about anything he was 
interested in.  

"I always felt like I was thirteen-years old when I was 
around them, especially when my father was alive.  But I'd 
give almost anything to see them again."  She took a 
breath.  "I wish I knew what happened to my mother.  I 
never had the chance to make sure she was safe when all of 
this started.  I suppose it's too much to hope for," she 
said, glancing away, her cheeks flushing from more than her 
illness.  Deflecting, she asked, "What about you?  Do you 
remember your parents much?"

Gibson pulled his left cheek back in a half smile.  "Yes, I 
remember them," he said, sounding more bitter than he'd 
intended or felt.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to pry."

"It's all right," he took a breath.  "I loved my parents.  
I think they loved me in their own way.  I have many happy 
memories of them."

"You weren't close?  You were very young when they died," 
Scully said.

"Not that young.  I was about Will's age," he said.  He 
wasn't sure how the conversation had turned to himself and 
his parents, and he was surprised that he wanted to 
continue the conversation, as much to keep Scully talking 
as to talk to someone about his parents.  He'd been 
thinking a lot about them and his boyhood life lately, 
especially since William's arrival.  "My parent's were 
never outright mean to me.  They never hit me, or really 
even yelled at me.  But they were cold.  They never 
understood me, and I think I unnerved them, especially my 
father."

"Did they know about your ability?"

Gibson shook his head.  "No.  I never told them, but once 
they found out I was good at playing chess, things got a 
little better.  I got to spend a lot of time out of the 
house, studying and touring and they got a lot of money," 
he said matter of fact.

"They used you?" Scully asked.  

"I didn't really mind.  It was a mutually beneficial deal."

"That's awful."  Scully winced as she adjusted her position 
slightly.

"Are you okay?" Gibson asked, sitting up quickly, moving 
closer to her. 

Scully nodded.  "Just a little thirsty."

Gibson grabbed a nearby bottle of water and helped her take 
a few sips.  As he put the bottle aside, he said, "I 
realized later that you were the first person to really 
take care of me the way a parent is supposed to care for 
their child.  I've never forgotten that."  He looked 
directly into her eyes, and she looked away.

"And then I used you, too.  Just like your parents."

"I never saw it like that," he said.  Scully looked up, 
challenging him.  "Well... maybe a part of me did, when I was 
a kid, but I also knew what was in here."  He touched his 
chest over his heart briefly.  "I understood the forces 
acting upon you and Mulder.  Whatever anger I had at first 
went away when Mulder came to live with me, just after Will 
was born.  I saw you through his eyes," Gibson said.  
Scully blushed, but Gibson knew she wanted to hear more.

"I know so little about his time away from William and me.  
We never talked about it, as crazy as that is," she said, 
more to herself.  "I made him go.  Did he tell you that?"  
Gibson nodded, but let her continue.  "I was still angry 
with him for leaving.  Stupid, isn't it?"

"No, not stupid.  For what it's worth, Mulder tried to go 
back to you several times, but I managed to talk him out of 
it, and get him to come to his senses.  They would have 
killed him.  Not that he cared.  He only cared about you 
and William and the truth.  I guess not much has changed," 
he said.

Scully smiled.  She stilled, and for a moment, she only 
quietly stared at nothing with a serene look on her face.  
Gibson tried not to pry into her mind, but he heard her 
thoughts regardless.  In a fraction of a second, he 
understood all of the regret she felt for her past sins, 
and all of the love she had for Mulder and William.  Gibson 
wondered if they knew how lucky they were to have her.

That moment flashed past.  The contented expression on 
Scully's face dissolved into pain as her eyes fluttered and 
rolled into the back of her head.

"Dana!" Gibson sat forward on his knees, leaning over her.  
"Stay awake, Dana.  Stay with me," he pleaded.  She fought 
it, tried to obey him and then she was still.

Her breaths were shallow as Gibson continued begging her to 
wake up.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

North of Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
10:34 am

Mulder looked down towards the ground.  His legs hung from 
his body like he was a marionette, dangling one foot above 
the dead winter grass.  Out of the corner of his eye, he 
could see Tom rise above William towards the source of the 
bright blue light, towards the belly of the space ship that 
was also trying to take his son.  Tom was moving much 
faster than they were.  Mulder pulled at William's pant 
leg, then an ankle, but he had no leverage, nothing to 
anchor himself to.  

He strained to look at William's face, but he only saw the 
bottom of William's chin.  He was looking up towards the 
ship, his arms were outstretched.

"I've got you, Will.  I'm not going to let go.  I promise," 
Mulder said, his voice already hoarse.  He threw the arm 
that dangled by his side up, and grabbed onto William's 
other pant leg, clutching it just as tightly.  

William slowly looked down at Mulder.  *Please, let go, 
Mulder,* William said without moving his lips.  Inside 
Mulder's mind, his son had actually asked him to let go.  
To leave him.  To let him be taken.  

"It's okay, Will.  Let it take us both.  I won't leave you 
alone!" Mulder said aloud.  

*You have to let me go.*  

Mulder looked up, his eyes wide, shocked by what William 
was asking of him.  It wasn't just that William didn't 
think Mulder could pull him to safety, he didn't want 
Mulder to go with him either.  He wanted to go alone.  With 
Tom.  Into an alien spaceship.  Mulder shook his head 
violently back and forth, not able to get the words out.  
He wanted to tell William that he couldn't understand what 
happens inside the ships.  Mulder had been tortured, Scully 
had been experimented upon.  

*Dad,* the word came softly, stilling Mulder, getting his 
attention.  *Dad, I'll be okay.  I won't be alone.  I'll be 
right back.*  The corner of William's mouth twitched in a 
brief smile, and his eyes pleaded with Mulder's.  

Mulder was not consciously aware he'd done it, but before 
he could stop himself, his fingers had relaxed, and he felt 
the rough denim of William's pants, the smooth leather of 
his tennis shoes, slip from his grasp.  If there had been 
any sounds around him before, they had all fallen away.  In 
complete silence, Mulder felt his feet hit the hard ground 
forcefully.  His knees bent and he fell back. 
Instinctively, his hands extended to his sides breaking the 
fall.  His mouth hung open, his legs sprawled on the cold 
earth, as Mulder watched William rise up faster, out of his 
reach, catching up to Tom.  William watched Mulder until 
just before he disappeared inside the blue light; the doors 
to the ship spiraled shut an instant later.

William was gone.  His son was gone.  Just like Samantha.

And Mulder had let him go.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

On-board the ship
December 28, 2012
10:39 am

William blinked, seeing nothing but darkness.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, lifted his lids again 
verifying they really were open.  There was still only 
darkness.  He had never been in a place this black.

He worried that he had made a terrible mistake.  He'd asked 
Mulder to let him go, and that would be his last request.  
How could he do anything if he couldn't see?

He felt fingers clasp his wrist and he gasped.

*It's okay, Will.  It's me,* Tom's mind said to his.  *Try 
to stay quiet. The light will come on soon.  I think.*  

*I thought you'd never been inside a ship,* William 
replied, willing his heart to stop pounding in his ears.  

*Not since my abduction,* Tom said.  *But I've seen 
diagrams.  Lots of diagrams.  And pictures.*

Slowly a light grew.  William was not sure if it was his 
eyes adjusting to the little light that had been there all 
along, or if it was new, but at least now he could see Tom 
and see a little bit of their surroundings.  They were 
inside a small, empty room, devoid of any significant 
markings or objects.

*Why isn't anyone here?*

*They don't realize who we are.  The tractor beam was 
tripped automatically because of our DNA.  They think we're 
supposed to be here,* Tom said.  Inside William's mind, 
Tom's voice sounded like a whisper, even though he wasn't 
actually speaking.  

*Kind of a stupid security system, don' you think?*

Tom laughed out loud.  "Yeah, I guess it is.  But lucky for 
us they're such arrogant bastards."  Back inside their 
minds, Tom added *We have to be careful, though, Will.  We 
have to hide our thoughts from the others.  It won't take 
them long to detect us.*

*Not a problem,* William said.  He was less worried about 
the others hearing his mind than he was about completing 
his end of this mission.  He'd been practicing as much as 
he could since yesterday, and he'd been able to do it on 
his own in the past, but moving objects with his mind on 
purpose had never been easy, and it usually required him to 
be in a heightened emotional state.  Often it required him 
to be angry.  *Will Mulder be okay?*

*He'll be fine.  They'll ignore him at least until they 
discover us.*

*Good,* William said simply.  He held his hand out.  *Do 
you have the stuff?*

*Yes, right here.  I grabbed two vials when I saw the 
ship.*

*Give one to me,* William said.

Tom hesitated.  *I should probably keep them for now,* he 
said.

*If we get separated, I'm the one who has to finish this,* 
William said, hoping he sounded tough, keeping his hand 
straight out.  Finally, Tom nodded and handed William one 
of the little amber jars filled with the Super Mesabi 
Ferrum serum.  William held the vial up close to his face, 
peering inside through the glimmering liquid.  *Let's hurry 
up,* he said.  He clenched his fist, trapping the serum 
inside his hand.

*Let's try to find a door," Tom said.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Making their way through an alien spaceship in near total 
darkness, trying to find specific equipment with only vague 
recollections of quickly reviewed schematics in his mind 
would not have been Tom's first choice, but to his surprise 
navigating within the ship was easier than he'd expected.  
Somehow, being there felt natural to him.  He intuitively 
knew whether to take a right or a left, hit that button to 
open a door, avoid that door altogether.  He couldn't read 
the alien language printed all over various buttons and 
signs but he knew what the writing said regardless.  That 
knowledge was sheer instinct and Tom suspected it had 
something to do with his telepathic link to the Grays on 
board.  He hoped that link was only a one way pipe.

*Why is it so dark?* William asked.  It was not only dark, 
but warm and humid, like the deep recesses of a jungle.  
The ship felt organic, yet lifeless.  Tom touched a wall.  
It felt like stone, or soft metal.  Various swirling and 
straight shallow grooves covered the wall.  Tom couldn't 
see them clearly, but he knew they were pictographs and 
writing.  They reminded him of Mayan ruins he'd visited in 
Mexico during graduate school.

*They don't like bright light.  They're very photo-
sensitive,* Tom's mind whispered.  *They see better in near 
darkness.*

*I can hear them in my head,* William said.

*Hypnotic, isn't it?*

William didn't respond, but Tom sensed he agreed.  It was 
impossible to explain to someone who didn't have telepathic 
abilities exactly how tranquil and yet chaotic 
communicating simply through one's mind could be.

*Come on,* Tom said.  *Over there.*

They turned a corner and slipped into a narrow corridor, 
big enough for them to enter only single file, shuffling 
sideways.  If Tom was correct, they were inside a 
maintenance passageway.  Generally, the Grays were much 
smaller than humans, and even William had to bend his knees 
awkwardly to fit inside.  They inched down the corridor 
like seashore crabs until they came to a small alcove in 
the wall, illuminated with incandescent lighting, no more 
than one square foot in size, located waist high from the 
floor.  Surrounding the square were illuminated buttons 
with various symbols and inscriptions.

*This is it,* Tom said.  *We should be able to use this to 
complete the first step.*

*It looks like a replicator,* William said, referring to 
the fictional device that could make an exact copy of 
almost any object or food.

Tom smiled.  "Star Trek fan?" he asked aloud.

William shrugged.  *I've seen a few episodes.  My dad liked 
it.*

*This isn't exactly a replicator.  The Grays are very 
advanced technologically, but not quite there yet.  This is 
a molecular scanner,* Tom said, digging inside his right 
jeans pocket to pull out the little vial, holding it up to 
the light given off by the scanner.  In this light, the 
liquid was a complex combination of colors -- reds, browns, 
and gold.  It was beautiful.  Hopefully, it would be their 
salvation.  

He placed the serum in the center of the scanner, and 
stared at it for a moment, his only movement the deep rise 
and fall of his chest as he took deep breaths.  This was 
it.  If he couldn't figure out how to upload the molecular 
structure of the serum, not only to the computer network of 
*this* ship, but to the fifty others like it around Earth 
as well, all would be lost.  If he succeeded, the hard part 
was still in front of them.  

*Do you know how to do it?* William asked with the 
impatience of a boy not quite twelve years old.  

*I think so.  I'm not sure what will happen when I start 
pressing buttons.  We may have to move quickly.  Do you 
know what you need to do?*

William nodded.  *Yes, except that I don't know where the 
control room is,* he said.

*I'll be with you.  We'll find it,* Tom said.   He rubbed 
his fingers together nervously and licked his lips, looking 
back inside the little recessed box with a single vial of 
Mesabi Ferrum sitting at its center.  *Guess there's no 
time like the present.* 


Tom closed his eyes and pressed buttons.  Maybe it was a 
foolish decision, but he let his mind guide his fingers, 
tapping as if to music.  With his finger poised over the 
final button, ready to begin uploading the data and 
transmitting it to the other ship's computers, he felt a 
pressure on his right shoulder.  At first, Tom assumed 
William was touching him until he remembered that William 
stood to his left side.

"I wouldn't press that button," a voice, much deeper and 
experienced than William's said.  

Tom's eyes flew open and he turned his head so sharply to 
the right that he was sure something in his neck popped.  
Jeremiah Smith stood there with his typically calm smile 
and kind eyes, crow's feet branching out from their 
corners.  "How did you get here?" Tom gasped out loud.

Smith put his finger to his lips.  "Shhh," he said.  "They 
can't hear me, but they'll hear you sooner or later."

Tom swallowed.  *I thought you were back at the camp,* he 
said, transitioning back to telepathic speech.  *Has 
something happened?  You were unconscious when we left.*

"I'm still there."

*You're a ghost?* William's mind asked meekly.  

Smith cocked his head to the side so William could see him.  
"No, Will.  I'm not a ghost, but I'm not really standing 
here, either."

*I felt you touch me,* Tom said.

"The mind is a powerful thing," Smith said.

*Then we're having a shared hallucination?* Tom asked.

"I prefer 'vision'.  I'm here to help, but if you press 
that button, Tom, you'll open a communication line to the 
control room.  You were doing fine until the end."

*You were helping me... guiding me inside my mind,* Tom said, 
a little disappointed that he hadn't been able to do it 
alone.  

"Only a little bit, but mostly you were on your own," Smith 
said.  "Go ahead.  Press that one," Smith stuck out one 
long finger towards a small circular button on the panel's 
right side.

*Are you sure?* 

"I'm sure.  That writing is my native language, you know.  
Pressing the button will transmit the data accurately, but 
what I don't know is whether the others will be alerted to 
your presence."

*I guess we'll find out,* Tom said.  He glanced towards 
Smith again and Tom was not surprised to see he was gone.  
Tom took a deep breath and pressed.

The button flashed a pale green.  Text appeared on the 
small monitor above the alcove, but Tom was not sure if the 
message told him of his success or his failure.  One thing 
he did notice -- there was no alarm -- so Tom finally 
exhaled.

*All right.  On to the fun part,* he said, smiling at 
William.  William smiled back and Tom touched his shoulder.  
*Let's get this over with.*

^^^^^^^^^^^

Outside of Washington, DC
December 28, 2012
11:52 am EST

"Ma'am, he's waiting for you," the Gamma Hybrid said.  
Claire had no idea what his name was and she didn't care.  
All she cared about at that moment was the report glaring 
at her on the screen in her hands.  Something seemed wrong.

Since she was responsible for cleaning up the mess Tom had 
left, she didn't have time to be star struck like her 
inferior boss.

"I told him, I'm not going up there.  He may get off on 
being inside a Gray ship and seeing 'history unfold before 
his eyes' to paraphrase, but I have more important things 
to do," she said without looking up.  Her boss had been 
nearly orgasmic when he'd learned he'd been selected to 
witness the Colonization Ceremony in person, but Claire had 
no intention of exposing herself to Tom Davis' synthesized 
vaccine.  *She* didn't need it to survive and why take the 
chance?  

"What should I tell him?" the Gamma asked, his foot 
nervously tapping the floor, further irritating Claire.  

"Tell him to fuck off!" Claire shouted, jerking her chin up 
and glaring at the poor Gamma.  "When were these readings 
taken?" she asked, thrusting the tablet PC towards the man.

"Um," he stammered.  "Just a few minutes ago," he finally 
articulated.  

"Something is not right," she said to herself, looking down 
at the diagram on the screen.  She was not a scientist, but 
she'd stared so long at the diagrams and readings and 
molecular structures of Tom's vaccine that she was fairly 
sure what she was looking at now did not match up.  

"Ma'am?" the Gamma asked timidly.  "Is everything okay?"

If this guy didn't leave her alone, she was going to beat 
him over the head with an iron stick.  Suddenly it hit her.  
Tom had something to do with this.  She wasn't sure exactly 
what "this" was, but he was involved.  "No," she said 
sharply.  "Tell them to delay the ceremony, and tell them 
to initiate an alert."

"Excuse me?" 

"Just go!"  The man turned quickly and rushed towards the 
door to the office she had taken over from Tom.  She turned 
towards the wall where the screen with blinking red dots 
hung.  "And tell them to finish the sweeps for survivors 
immediately!"

^^^^^^^^^^^^

On-board the ship
December 28, 2012
10:55 am

Tom and William walked slowly through the twisting ship's 
corridors.  Tom felt really good.  The aliens on-board the 
ship were much freer with their thoughts than Tom had 
expected.  The number of Colonists on-board added to Tom's 
ability to pick up on random ideas and put them together to 
create a clear picture.  That picture showed Tom that the 
Grays were planning on having their Colonization Ceremony 
today.  Very soon.  

An hour ago, that knowledge would have sent Tom into a 
panic, but now that the Mesabi Ferrum serum was uploaded 
into the alien intranet system, the news elated him.  
William wouldn't need to do anything after all.  The aliens 
would release the serum on their own, believing they were 
releasing the vaccine.  All Tom and William had to do now 
was get off the ship, which was easier said than done.  

When Tom had originally believed that the Grays would wait 
until New Year's Eve or Day, he assumed that he and William 
would need to sneak inside of, or close to, the control 
room to the alien ship.  Once within range, William would 
need to use his extraordinary ability to press buttons with 
his mind to initiate the release of the pre-loaded serum 
into the venting systems of all of the ships around the 
world.  Fifty all totaled.

Waiting for the alien's time table would have been too 
dangerous.  Detection of their sabotage would have been 
likely the more that time passed.  Now that Tom understood 
the ceremony would happen in a matter of minutes, not hours 
or days, he could allow for it to go on as planned.  But, 
instead of the original vaccine Tom had created to immunize 
the Grays from the Earth's lethal iron levels, the newly 
uploaded and very deadly Super Mesabi Ferrum serum would be 
in its place.

This was too easy.

*How do we get out?* William asked.  

*Good question.  I think we just go back to the room we 
started in and try to initiate the tractor beam again, go 
the opposite direction.*

A bright red light flashed on moments before an eardrum 
piercing siren began to blare.  

"What's going on?" William shouted over the horrible sound, 
sticking his fingers in his ears.

"Trouble," Tom said.  "Wait here!"  Tom stepped into a 
larger hallway, while William stayed back, hiding in a 
smaller hallway similar to the maintenance passageway 
they'd been in a few minutes earlier.  Tom peered around a 
corner, and he was about to motion for William to join him 
when he felt long bony fingers from several sets of hands 
grab him, yanking him from his feet, catching him off 
guard.

"No!" he shouted out loud as they dragged him away.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

North of Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
10:59 am

Mulder sat in the same position -- sprawled and half 
sitting up on the ground -- he'd been in since the doors to 
the space ship had closed on his son.  His body felt 
frozen, yet his mind raced, shuffling, considering and 
discarding any and every idea he had about what to do next.  
He needed to get on board that ship.  There had to be a 
way.

Finally, Mulder looked at his boots, feeling the bones in 
his neck crack.  A triangular shadow passed over him, then 
another and another.  He looked up above him.  Swarms of 
small fighter craft streamed out of the ship and dispersed 
in every direction.

Then the mother ship began to move southward, slow at 
first, then gaining speed.  That jump-started Mulder.  He 
sprung up off the ground and ran to the car.

As the ship moved on in what was likely the slowest 
possible speed it could move, Mulder followed it from 
below, his foot depressing the gas pedal until it hit the 
floor.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 28, 2012
10:20 am

Monica sat quietly with Gibson at Scully's bedside, feeling 
completely helpless.  Scully's breaths had grown very 
shallow ever since she'd lost consciousness nearly an hour 
earlier.  Even her trembling had stopped.

"There must be something we can do," Gibson said.

"She's the doctor.  If she were awake, maybe she could tell 
us how to help her," Monica said.  She stood up quickly, 
moved her hands sharply through the air in frustration.  
"Damn it!  Things could not be worse!"  She paced back and 
forth in the small area of the cave that had become the 
hospital ward.  

"Oh, God, Monica, I don't think she's breathing," Gibson 
said.  He didn't sound like himself.  He was panicked.  
Monica slid back over to the spot next to Scully she had 
just vacated.

"No, Dana!  Don't do this Dana!  Stay with us!  You have to 
stay with us," Monica pleaded, shaking Scully's shoulders.  
She didn't notice the rumbling underneath her knees until 
John burst through the cave's doorway.

"Monica, I need your help!" John said, already heading back 
out the door.

"John, Dana's not breathing.  I need you over here!"

"They've come back!" he said, pointing outside and up 
towards the sky.  "We have to get everyone inside the cave.  
The kids... where's Joy?"

Monica still did not understand what he was talking about.  
Had he not heard what she'd told him about Dana?  

"Joy's outside.  John, didn't you hear me?  Dana is dying!"

He took a deep breath, and she saw understanding and 
anguish in his eyes.  "I heard you, but if we don't get 
everyone inside right now, we'll all be dead.  The alien 
fighters have come back!"

She'd been wrong.  Things could get much, much worse.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Washington DC
Spring 1999
Evening

Scully felt Mulder's breath on her neck -- his heart 
beating steadily in his chest pressed against her -- but he 
was not close enough.  This was her safe place, her solid 
ground; wrapped up in Mulder's arms.  Her chance at being a 
mother was gone forever, but in his embrace she wondered if 
there might be a chance at something else.  Not a miracle, 
but a promise.  A commitment.  

She felt him pull away.  His eyes met hers as he smoothed 
his fingertips along her hairline, settling to cradle her 
neck at the base of her skull as he spoke.  "Can I make you 
some tea and we can talk about it?"  he asked softly.  

Her smile did not touch her eyes.  He wanted to talk.  That 
was so unlike the old them, but maybe it was a sign of 
things to come.  "Tea would be good.  Thank you," she said, 
wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.  He kissed her 
gently at her temple, lingering a few seconds longer than a 
friend would, but not long enough for her liking.  She 
considered turning her face slightly and kissing him on the 
lips.  But just as she had hesitated earlier when he'd 
first embraced her, she did so again, and the moment 
passed.  One among many.

"Sit down," he said without being demanding.  "I know where 
everything is."  He turned away from her and went about 
preparing tea.  Scully sat down on her sofa wondering what 
was holding her back.  She had been able to ask him to 
father her child, but she couldn't tell him how she felt 
about him.

A few minutes later, they sat quietly together sipping 
their tea, each sitting with one leg bent on the sofa and 
one on the floor half facing the other, stealing occasional 
glances.  The silence was comfortable, not awkward like it 
had been since the moment she had asked him to father her 
child.  They were not lovers, but they were so much more 
than friends.  If she had learned nothing else from this 
experience, she had learned that.  

"I'm sorry it didn't work, Scully.  I really am," Mulder 
finally said, almost timidly, like he was worried she would 
break if he spoke.

Earlier, during the drive home alone from her doctor's 
office, after learning the results of the IVF treatments 
she'd undergone for the past month, she'd considered what 
she wanted to tell Mulder.  He stayed behind at her request 
and waited for her at her apartment.  She'd known she would 
need time to absorb the impact of the results, whether 
positive or negative.  She'd hoped to simply give him a 
detached explanation of what had taken place and what would 
happen next.  "It worked," or "It was a long shot anyway," 
was as emotional as she'd wanted to become.  But with each 
red traffic light, the greater her realization that she 
would never become a mother grew.  Scully thought she'd 
accepted that fact, having long ago resigned herself to it, 
but watching her re-ignited hope snuffed out for good had 
been worse than hearing her initial infertility diagnosis 
almost two years earlier.  Back then, she hadn't thought 
she'd wanted children at all.  

This time it was different.  This time, she had dared 
herself to hope.

Scully breathed in deeply the bitter aroma of her tea.  "So 
am I, Mulder," she said.  She sighed, shifted her weight 
and began rebuilding the crumbled brick and mortar around 
her heart.  "But, it's probably for the best.  With our 
work, our lives... I made this decision so fast.  It was 
probably very irresponsible of me.  And I barely gave you 
time to think it over.  That was unfair.  This is better 
for everyone."

"Maybe it is," he said and despite them being the words she 
had believed she'd wanted to hear, her heart sank a little.  
"Can I ask you something?" he added.

"Of course," she said, blowing on her tea, watching it 
ripple to avoid looking into his eyes.  She'd wondered why 
he'd said yes to her request in the first place.  She'd 
never been brave enough to ask, but she knew his decision 
had been partly out of unwarranted guilt.  What was worse, 
she had let him say yes in spite of knowing guilt was a 
factor.  

"Why did you ask me?"  

"Who else would I ask?" she responded without hostility, 
still not looking up.

"Lots of women use anonymous donors these days."

"Lots of women do," she said.  This conversation seemed to 
be happening a little too late, which would make it easier 
to have.  She felt the status quo of their relationship 
holding her back.  They'd always been adept at speaking to 
each other in guarded half-truths and barely veiled 
innuendo.  Even now after all that had happened between 
them, and all that she wanted, it was difficult for her to 
change.

Without the prospect of a child, she was afraid of losing 
him if she gave him the uncensored answers.  He was her 
friend.  Who else could she have trusted?  She wanted the 
baby to know his father as a person, not a serial number.  
She could tell him those things.  They were true, but 
incomplete.  There had simply been no other option.  She 
wanted to share the experience of parenthood with someone 
she trusted and loved.  Not *someone*.  Him.  She would 
have a baby with Mulder or no one.  If he didn't feel the 
same way, having that truth between them would drive them 
apart.  She was sure of it.  

When she didn't say more, Mulder sighed and sat forward, 
placing his cup on the coffee table in front of him.  "I 
should probably let you get some rest," he said.  "I don't 
mean to keep you up."

"I'm not really tired," she said yawning in spite of 
herself.  She sat forward and put her cup of tea on the 
table.  Mirroring his posture sitting next to him with 
their shoulders almost touching, she said, "Mulder?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

She gathered her courage and turned her head to look him in 
the eyes.  "Why did you say yes?"

"You're my friend, Scully," he said.

"I see," she said, looking to her hands folded in front of 
her.  

He sighed and slapped his hands on his knees, pushing 
himself off of the sofa. "You never answered me," he said.  
He walked to the door, grabbing his jacket along the way 
and Scully realized she had let yet another moment pass her 
by.  

"Mulder, wait," she said, standing up and walking the few 
steps towards him.  She touched his forearm, met his eyes 
and took a deep breath.  If she couldn't tell him now, when 
could she?  Maybe never, she thought as she exhaled.  
"Thank you for being here.  Thank you for everything."  
Instead of laying her heart open, she pulled him into a 
final embrace that he returned warmly.

"Goodnight, Scully," he said when he pulled back.  "I'll 
call you tomorrow. Make sure you're okay."  He twisted the 
knob on her door and then he was gone.

She closed the door and leaned against it, closing her 
eyes, feeling the burn of unwanted tears once more.  "Good 
night, Mulder," she whispered.  

Then she made herself a promise.  If she got another 
chance, she would take it.

She exhaled and flipped off the light, blanketing her 
apartment in shadow.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Canyon City
December 28, 2012
10:25 am 

Monica watched helplessly as Scully exhaled a final breath.  
Monica touched two fingers to Scully's neck, but felt no 
pulse.  This was unbelievable.  Her eyes blurred and she 
wiped them with the back of her hand.  Outside the cave 
came the horrific sound of the alien fighter ships as they 
circled overhead.  They sounded like terrified animals 
shrieking mixed with an unfeeling, low mechanical drone.

"Monica, I need help finding the kids!" John shouted.  

Monica exhaled and took Scully's hand.  "I'm sorry," she 
whispered.  

"I'll go," Gibson said, wiping his own tears.  The sight of 
Gibson crying jarred Monica more, if that were possible.  
"You stay here."

"No, stay with Dana, Gibson.  I have to find Joy," Monica 
said as she stood, not giving him time to argue and running 
out of the cave with John.  

The sky was bright blue and crystal clear.  She shielded 
her eyes as she craned her head back to look up.  As 
beautiful as it was above, the air was filled with 
terrifying noises and John had to yell for her to hear him.  
"They came out of nowhere," he said, pointing upwards as 
though she didn't know what he was talking about.  The 
other residents of Canyon City, all of them Alien 
Replicants and nearly indestructible, ran past them in 
panic to the cave.

During the previous attack, the aliens had dropped 
something similar to bombs on the camp, probably not their 
most advanced weapons, but destructive all the same.  This 
time they were flying back and forth in something like a 
holding pattern.  

Aiden came running up to them, skidding to a stop on the 
loose gravel.  "You two need to get inside!" he shouted.

"We can't find Joy and the other children," Monica said, 
sticking her fingers in her ears to try to block out the 
pain caused by ships' noise.

"I'll find them.  The Grays are looking for you.  They'll 
pick you off if you're out here," Aiden said.

"I don't care.  Tom said the children are in danger now, 
too," Monica said.

"Monica, John... get inside!  I'll find the kids," Aiden 
demanded more forcefully than she'd ever heard him.

Monica opened her mouth to protest, but sudden silence 
stopped her.  She looked up, and saw nothing.  The alien 
craft had retreated out of sight, out of earshot.  "Where'd 
they go?" she said, still shouting though it was 
unnecessary.  The men looking up with her only shrugged to 
say they had no clue.  The other Canyon City residents 
still outside stopped running to look up, too.

"That was weird," John said in a normal tone of voice.

"Shh!" Aiden said sharply, putting his finger to his lips 
and lowering his head slightly, reminding Monica of a cat 
quietly sitting on its haunches before leaping after its 
prey.

She almost laughed.

Then she heard the whirring of multiple helicopter rotors.  
Seconds later she saw them.  Two choppers flew overhead to 
the top of the canyon, landing on the flat mesa above.  The 
opening in the canyon walls was too narrow to allow them to 
land inside the camp itself, so they settled in the same 
spot where Mulder and Scully had first arrived days earlier 
in their truck.

"What're they doing?" John shouted, the sound of the 
choppers almost as loud as the alien fighters had been.

"Get inside!" Aiden shouted, his urgency back.  "Get 
everyone together and get the weapons stored in the back 
corner of the cave.  

"What weapons?" Monica heard John ask at the same time she 
spoke.

"Are they aliens?  I thought they were allergic to the 
iron," Monica said.

"They're Super Soldiers, but they've been inoculated, like 
those that attacked Tom and the kids at the parking lot."

"Then it's too late.  Tom and William have failed," Monica 
said.

"No, these were test subjects, sent specifically to find us 
and destroy the children... and you!  I'll explain later, but 
you must get inside now!  I'll find the children!"

"I'll help you," John said, pushing Monica towards the 
cave.  She wanted to know who the hell he thought he was.  
Joy was her responsibility.  

"John, inside the cave there are weapons," Aiden said 
slowly but forcefully.  "They won't kill the Super 
Soldiers, but they might slow them down.  Get the weapons, 
arm all of the adults and guard the cave.  You're no help 
to me out here."  Aiden gave both of them the most 
authoritative look she'd ever seem him give before he ran 
off towards the edge of the camp.

"Come on, Monica," John said, sounding a little like he'd 
been slapped.  "Let's find the weapons."  Monica felt him 
tug on her sweater as she started after Aiden, ready to 
disobey and run after him to find Joy.  "He's right.  The 
Super Soldiers will mow us down.  *He* has a chance.  *And* 
he's telepathic.  He'll find her."

John took her hand, pleading with his eyes.  Monica knew he 
was right, but she didn't want to listen. 

"Please Monica," John said giving her hand a squeeze, 
tugging her towards the cave.  "I *need* you over here."  

That got her attention.  Reluctantly, she followed John 
back inside the cave to arm their little militia.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"I got 'em!" John shouted.  He was bent at the waist with 
his head and shoulders inside a large wooden crate stored 
in a far back corner of the cave.  His feet barely touched 
the ground as he searched looking like he was five years 
old and the box was a giant toy chest with his favorite 
action figure stuck at the bottom.  Gibson would have 
laughed out loud had the situation been any different.  

When John finally stood up straight, he held two M16 rifles 
and what looked like a rocket launcher, though Gibson had 
never seen one in real life.  John slung one rifle over his 
shoulder and carried the other two weapons in his hands, 
taking large strides towards Gibson and Monica near the 
cave entrance.  "Gibson, make sure everyone gets a gun of 
some kind," he said as he started for the door.  "I don't 
think Aiden knew about this," he said, holding up the 
rocket launcher.

"Where are you going?" Gibson asked, though he already knew 
the answer.  Sometimes he wondered why he bothered asking.

"Aiden's unarmed.  He doesn't have much better chance than 
I do against those guys, super human strength aside."

"John, Aiden told us to stay here," Monica said.  "*You* 
made *me* come back inside!  I'm not letting you go alone."  
She reached for one of the rifles, but Gibson spoke, 
stopping her.

"I'll go.  You stay with them," he said, indicating the 
other Replicants.  "Pass out the weapons."

"Gibson, have you even fired a gun?" John asked.  "It's 
probably better if Monica--"

"Listen, you need me to find the children, to *talk* to 
them.  Monica needs to teach these people how *not* to 
shoot each other or you, and the longer we argue, the more 
time we waste," Gibson said all in one breath.  

"Okay, then," John said quietly, re-shouldering the rifle 
Monica had reached for and handing the other M16 to Gibson.  
"I get the RPG launcher, though," he added with a one sided 
smile.

The two men turned to leave, but John quickly stopped and 
stepped back to Monica.  Her brow was creased and her arms 
were folded, definitely unhappy with her assignment.  John 
gave her a brief but firm kiss on the lips, stunning her 
slightly, before turning back on his heels and running out.  
Gibson smiled and followed close behind him.

Once outside, they could see several Super Soldiers, less 
than ten all totaled, making their way down the trail 
furthest from the heart of the camp, automatic weapons in 
their arms.  The two choppers' blades continued to whirl 
from where they sat on the top of the mesa and Gibson 
assumed there were at least two more Super Soldiers 
standing by.  For the moment, the soldiers seemed focused 
on something in the opposite direction from where John and 
Gibson approached, but Gibson couldn't see what it was.  
Whatever the Super Soldiers were looking at was hidden 
behind an out-cropping of rocks and a bend in the canyon 
wall past the spot that was regarded as the edge of camp.  

"John, we have to hurry.  Aiden and the kids are over 
there," Gibson said, already breaking into a jog and 
passing in front of John.  He felt a hand grab his arm, 
stopping his forward progress, almost yanking him 
backwards.

"Wait a minute.  Are you sure?" John asked, his voice 
lowered, keeping his eyes on the descending soldiers.  

"Yes.  They're gathered behind some boulders over there, 
past the narrow section in the riverbed," Gibson said, 
pointing for emphasis.  "The Super Soldiers know they're 
there, but they can't see them yet."

"Why don't they just pick 'em off from the trail?  Or use 
the helicopters to fire missiles like they did at the truck 
in the parking lot?"  John asked more to himself, like he 
was working out all the scenarios in his head.

"They don't have a direct line with the choppers.  The 
canyon is too narrow at the top.  Plus, they want to make 
sure they accomplish their objectives," Gibson said.  It 
was easy to read the soldier's minds.  Their first 
objective was to kill the children, then come after the 
rest of them.  "The soldiers can't get too close to the 
kids.  They know what will happen now, but they also have 
to hit the children precisely to kill them."

"That's our chance then," John said.

"How many shots do you have with that thing?" Gibson nodded 
towards the RPG launcher.

"Just one.  I didn't see any others or I would have grabbed 
them."

"Great," Gibson said sarcastically.

"Follow me.  When we get close, I'll try to take as many of 
them out as I can with my one shot.  As soon as I do, start 
shooting the rest of 'em.  I don't know how long it will 
take them to regenerate, but maybe we can take their 
weapons away before they do."

"What about the two still up top with the choppers?"

"We'll worry about them when we have to," John said.  "We 
might not get the chance, anyway.  Come on."  John ducked 
his head, crouching as low as he could get and still be 
able to run.  

Gibson was close behind John as they followed the canyon 
wall towards a small piling of boulders -- close but not 
too close -- to the trail where the soldiers were still 
descending.  They hid behind the rocks and watched the lead 
Super Soldier approach the bottom of the steep trail.  
Gibson raised his head slightly and could just make out the 
tops of the children's heads.  They were sitting in a 
circle barely concealed behind their own copse of rocks.  
Gibson could not penetrate their thoughts, but understood 
they were in the middle of something very important, so he 
reached out to Aiden instead.  *Aiden, get the kids to lie 
flat!  They'll see you soon if you don't!*

"Gibson," John whispered, jarring Gibson from his attempted 
link with Aiden.  "When I fire, start shooting."  

Gibson nodded and John lined up a shot with the RPG 
Launcher.  "I hope this thing works," John said just before 
he pulled the trigger.  Almost instantly, a ball of fire 
and a terrific bang exploded on the trail.  Gibson was 
mesmerized by it.  It all seemed to happen in slow motion 
for him.  He saw at least two soldiers -- parts of them 
anyway -- fly fifteen feet in the air and he watched the 
other soldiers turn towards John and his own position.  The 
soldiers took aim with their own weapons and fired.

"Gibson!  Now!" John shouted as he threw down the RPG 
launcher and picked up the M16.  That shook Gibson back 
into real time.  He pointed the rifle towards the 
indestructible aliens and squeezed the trigger.  He thought 
he hit a few of them, but he couldn't tell for sure.  There 
was so much smoke and dust flying up between him and his 
targets.  

Gibson heard John shout, "It's not working.  They're not 
stopping.  I'm going to get the kids!"

"No, John!" Gibson yelled, but not in time to stop him.  
John was already sprinting towards the small gap in the 
rocks that would lead him past the trail the Super Soldiers 
were firing from and to the children's hiding spot.  "John!  
There's nothing you can do!"  Gibson inhaled deeply and let 
out a slow breath, gathering what courage he had.  He 
jumped out from the safely of the rocks and followed after 
John in spite of every rational thought in his brain, 
holding down the trigger of his weapon the entire time.  He 
was certain they were both about to die.  Bullets landed in 
the dirt all around their feet as they ran, and Gibson 
absently wondered how these super human aliens could be 
such bad shots, not that he was complaining.  

Somehow, they made it to the small group of boulders that 
Aiden and the children sat behind.  The children sat in a 
circle, holding each other's hands.  Aiden sat with his 
back against a rock just outside of the circle, his eyes 
wide as he watched John and Gibson throw themselves out of 
the Super Soldier's line of sight and onto the ground next 
to him.

"That was the stupidest thing you've ever done!" Aiden 
said, looking directly at Gibson. "I expected it from him, 
but not you."

"You can yell at me later," John said.  "We have to get you 
out of here."

"John, the children will never make it.  Maybe the older 
kids would, but not all.  Besides, they don't have time," 
Aiden said.

"I think I hit a few of those bastards.  That should slow 
them down.  Gibson and I will distract them, and then you 
lead the kids past," John said, not hearing what Aiden had 
said.  

"No!  There isn't time and it won't work.  They have to 
help William right now.  There is no time," Aiden said, 
grabbing John's arm, making him listen.  

"William is half way across the country," John said, his 
brow creased as much as physically possible.  

"Yes, and he needs their help.  You need to keep them away 
as long as possible.  Gibson," he said, turning his head, 
"do you understand?"

Gibson nodded.  The children were attempting to communicate 
with William telepathically.  Something had gone wrong on 
the ship and William needed their help, even if it meant 
they all died doing it.  "John, follow me," Gibson said.  
He jumped up and ran away from their hiding place, in the 
opposite direction of the Super Soldiers, further away from 
camp.  

"Gibson!" he heard John shout.  

He felt a jolt of pain in his left thigh, then in his right 
calf and finally the metallic taste of iron-saturated dirt 
hit the back of his throat as he hit the ground.  As the 
world around him went dark, he heard several loud booms and 
felt white hot heat scorch his back.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

On-board
December 28, 2012
11:32 am 

For the past half an hour, William had been as still as a 
newborn deer in the thicket.  Aside from breathing he 
hadn't moved, yet his mind scrambled to come up with a 
plan.  He used equal parts of his energy to hide his 
presence from the others and to search their minds to find 
Tom.  He didn't dare reach out to Tom directly out of fear 
that the aliens would pull Tom's thoughts about him and 
their mission from his mind.

As much as he wanted to help his friend, William knew that 
Tom could not help him anyway.  The next step was up to him 
alone.  

He heard footsteps in the corridor near his hiding place.  
The aliens moved quickly, their legs like staccato rapping 
on a cow bell, echoing through the dark space.  It was hard 
to tell with his ears whether they were really physically 
close-by, or several rooms away.  Every sound William heard 
made his heart thrum.  He pushed himself deeper into the 
narrow passageway similar to the one he and Tom had been in 
not very long before.  This corridor didn't have a lighted 
box in the wall, or much light of any kind.  It was dark 
and cold and he wanted to run away, but knew there was no 
place to go.  

He had to get to the control room, but he didn't know how 
to get there, or if his legs would take him.

"You have to hurry, Will," Jeremiah's voice said from the 
darkness.  

William gasped and covered his mouth with his hands to hold 
back a shriek.  His chest rose and fell rapidly as his 
heart rate skyrocketed.  When he'd managed to take a few 
breaths, get his bearings and inform his pulse that 
Jeremiah was a friend, William spoke.  "I don't know how to 
get there.  I'm afraid they'll catch me," William 
whispered.

Jeremiah put his finger to his lips, then tapped his head.  
The meaning was clear.  William grimaced and nodded.  He 
knew better.  Speaking aloud was too dangerous.  Jeremiah 
smiled.  "You could probably walk right in there.  They 
can't get near you.  You'd kill most of them, but there are 
a few on board like me, so maybe it's better to keep it 
low-key."

*How?*

"You don't need to actually be inside the control room to 
push the button.  You're close enough right now," Jeremiah 
said.  As dark as it was, William had no trouble seeing his 
face.  He seemed to have a thin glowing film surrounding 
him that illuminated his features.

William shook his head.  *I've never moved anything that 
far away before.  I can't do it,* he said.  He sounded 
childlike to himself, like a scared five year-old.  

"Have you ever tried?"

William thought about it.  It had never occurred to him to 
try before.  When he'd first learned he could move objects 
with his mind, it had been *without* trying.  He'd been 
angry or sad or frustrated.  He'd slam a door, break a 
vase.  Once he'd learned he could control this power, he'd 
gotten better about not breaking his parents' things, but 
he still would typically springboard off of a raw emotion.  
And he never thought to move something far away that he 
couldn't see with his eyes.  

He shook his head.  

"Then how do you know you can't do it?  Close your eyes, 
try to imagine the control room," Jeremiah said.

*I don't know what it looks like, how can I --*

"I do.  I'll help you," Jeremiah said calmly.  Jeremiah had 
told William and Tom before that he wasn't physically on 
board the ship with them.  But when Jeremiah touched 
William's shoulder, he felt the warmth of his fingertips 
through his t-shirt as if they were standing next to each 
other.  It was extraordinary. 

"Close your eyes," Jeremiah said again, his voice soothing 
and lyrical.  William obeyed and lowered his lashes, 
shutting out what little light he'd been able to see.  
"Focus on me, on the sound of my voice.  The control room 
is a large, circular room. It's dark with many lighted 
buttons.  My people flit about in the shadows.  There is no 
giant screen or captain's chair like you may have seen in 
the movies.  It is void of comfort.  Its purpose is 
functional only.  Can you see it?"

William shook his head even though he knew Jeremiah's eyes 
were closed, too.

"Concentrate.  You'll see it.  Focus on my thoughts.  Shut 
out all other voices."

*There are too many,* William said, creasing his brow.

"You can do it, Will.  I believe in you."

William's eyes remained closed, but somewhere far away he 
could see a pale blue light.  Soon, he saw another, and 
another until the lights formed a console.  "I can see 
something!" William said excitedly in a loud whisper.  As 
soon as he'd spoken a loud bang several corridors away 
reverberated throughout the ship, shaking William out of 
his heavy concentration.  His eyes flipped open, big and 
startled.  "What was that?"

He looked to Jeremiah, who looked towards the sound.  "It's 
okay.  They're still far away.  They don't know where you 
are.  Let's try again.  You were doing well."

William closed his eyes, but all he could think about were 
the aliens all around him, searching for him.  *I can't get 
them out of my mind,* he said, letting out a frustrated 
breath and opening his eyes.

"Maybe we just need some help."

*There's no one else.  They took Tom,* William said.

"There are others," Jeremiah squeezed William's shoulder 
reassuringly.  "Close your eyes.  Focus on my thoughts."

William closed his eyes and tried.  He found it was easier 
seeing inside Jeremiah's mind this time.  But instead of a 
ship's control room, he found himself in the bright 
sunlight.  The smell of dirt and quick lime wafted up from 
below.  He looked to his feet.  There was a white piece of 
rubber near his toes, and he was standing on a mound of 
dirt.  A pitcher's mound.  His fingers were curled over the 
red seams of a scuffed and dirty white baseball.  *Why are 
we here?* William asked, though he didn't know where 
Jeremiah was inside this vision.

"This is where you feel safe," Jeremiah said.  William 
looked towards the sound of his voice.  Jeremiah stood near 
home plate, wearing an umpire's uniform, holding his 
facemask at his side, smiling.  

*How will this help me?* William asked.  *We don't have 
time to play a game.*

"There's always time for a game.  Maybe not baseball right 
now, but another kind of game."

William shook his head.  *I don't get it.*

"Look around you, Will.  Everyone has come to help you," 
Jeremiah said, pointing with an open hand towards the field 
in front of him and surrounding William.  

William followed the path of Jeremiah's hand.  Like in his 
previous dreams, the field had suddenly come alive with 
fielders standing at their positions.  This time he knew 
who they were by name.  At first base, Christian stood with 
a glove on his left hand and a baseball cap on his head.  
He clicked his tongue and blew a bubble gum bubble.  It 
popped.  He pulled the sticky bright pink confection back 
inside his mouth with his tongue, and winked at William.  
At every position -- outfield and infield -- one of the 
children Tom had brought with him from the laboratory in 
Washington stood ready to make a play if a ball should be 
hit their way.  Some positions had two children.  William 
looked back to the plate.  Crouching down in front of 
Jeremiah was the catcher.  She wasn't wearing her mask and 
William recognized that she was Joy.  She pulled her mask 
over her head and face and punched her thick catcher's mitt 
with her right hand.  

"Come on Will!  We've got you covered!" Joy called out to 
him.  

"They'll keep watch, Will, while I help you with your task.  
If there's any trouble, they'll let us know in plenty of 
time to hide.  Do you understand?" Jeremiah asked.  

William looked around one more time, then back to Jeremiah.  
Slowly, he nodded.  

"Okay, then... focus on my thoughts," Jeremiah said again, 
pulling his mask over his face.

The version of himself that was standing on a pitcher's 
mound closed his eyes and again tried to do as Jeremiah had 
asked.  Almost instantly, he found himself inside the 
ship's control room, standing directly in front of a 
console full of lighted buttons. 


He stuck his arm straight out, curled his hand into a fist 
and pointed his index finger.  He heard Jeremiah whisper 
*yes, that's right* in his ear.  William sucked in a deep 
breath and without exhaling turned his hand so that his 
finger pointed down.  He moved his hand towards a button on 
the console, felt his finger touch the smooth, cold 
plastic-like material.

Then he pushed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Canyon City
December 28, 2012
10:56 am

Gibson struggled against unconsciousness.  Both of his legs 
felt like they were on fire, but a different kind of heat 
washed over his entire body.  He lifted his head, and 
twisted his body around so that he could see what was 
happening behind him.  He expected Super Soldiers to be 
coming towards him, guns pointed, ready to put him out of 
his misery.  Instead, he saw four roaring balls of flame 
burning on the trail where the Super Soldiers came from and 
watched as three more exploded higher up the trail where 
three of the Super Soldiers he had been sure he'd hit with 
his M16 had stood seconds earlier.  As four more explosions 
shook the ground beneath him, he faintly registered in the 
back of his mind that the sound of the choppers rotors 
above him on the mesa had stopped.

Through the dust and smoke, he saw a figure running towards 
him.  Finally, the Super Soldiers must have found him.  He 
lied back flat on the ground and closed his eyes to wait 
for the end.

"Gibson?" a soft voice called to him.  He felt warm, thin 
fingers touch his face.  "Gibson, can you hear me?" the 
voice asked again.  He opened his eyes a fraction of an 
inch, as much as his energy allowed.

He must be dreaming.  Monica crouched over him, rocket 
launcher slung over her shoulder, smiling.  He closed his 
eyes again.  It was weird, but imagining Monica instead of 
seeing what was probably actually a Super Soldier standing 
over him was a much better way to die.

He smiled too, as consciousness left him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
On-board
December 28, 2012
11:59 am

There were ten seconds of silence just after William pushed 
the button.  Then all hell broke loose.   

William looked up to the control room ceiling, which was 
lined with round ventilation tubes covered by thin metal 
slits.  He heard a wooshing sound and watched as barely 
visible vapor poured through the cracks, flooding the room.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small gray figure 
with a large head bend over at its waist and fall to the 
floor.  William turned his head and watched it writhe in 
pain until he saw another figure and another, each falling 
out of the darkness.  

Soon after, bright red lights began flashing, followed by 
an ear-piercing siren.  

"Time to go, Will!" Jeremiah shouted and William found 
himself back in the corridor.  Like the control room, the 
corridor was flooded with vapor coming from similar vents 
near the ceiling, and the same siren blared.  "They're 
going to crash the ship!  Get down!" 

In a daze and with the image of the dying alien still in 
his mind, William obeyed, hoping that one way or another it 
would all be over soon.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
12:03 pm

Mulder had no idea how long he'd been driving.  Between 
making sure he was staying on the highway and not losing 
sight of the ship, he hadn't realized how close he was 
getting to St. Louis.  The downtown skyline was still a 
bumpy speck on the horizon, but he could faintly make out 
the shape of the Gateway Arch shimmering near the banks of 
the Mississippi River.

The ship had steadily increased its speed, and Mulder had 
found that even with the Honda's gas pedal depressed all 
the way to the floor, he was losing ground, especially 
since he had to dodge the smattering of cars littering the 
highway.  The ship had likely been going at its minimum 
speed, but it was too much for a simple terrestrial vehicle 
designed to take the kids to school at a comfortable sixty-
five miles per hour.  Just as he wondered if he was going 
to lose sight of the ship altogether, Mulder realized it 
was growing bigger through the windshield.  The ship looked 
like it had parked just outside of St. Louis, then it began 
to descend towards the city, falling lopsided to the earth, 
right in the middle of downtown.

Even though it was not possible to make the car go any 
faster, Mulder pushed his foot into the pedal even harder.  
If the pressure wouldn't give the car more speed, maybe he 
could will the car to fly.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER THIRTY

St. Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
12:45 pm

What surprised Mulder the most was that there was no fire.  
The alien ship had leveled what had been the city of St. 
Louis, several suburbs and probably some outlying small 
towns when it had crashed to the earth, yet as far as 
Mulder could tell there had been no mass explosion.  The 
craft had merely fallen from the sky and smothered or 
pulverized everything below it.

Mulder drove as far as he could and threw the car into 
park.  In front of him was a massive wall of earth, at 
least a hundred feet high.  The crash had not only 
destroyed St. Louis, but had created a crater in the city's 
place, surrounding the ship itself.  Even the Mighty 
Mississippi was gone in this section of its long path.  
Mulder scrambled up the new mountain of dirt, felt the 
ground underneath him rumble, though much less violently 
than what he had felt when the ship had actually hit.  He'd 
been thirty miles away, but the Honda had lifted a foot off 
the ground, and caused him to spin out on the highway, 
narrowly missing several stalled cars and nearly plummeting 
over a steep embankment towards the river.  

Now, he stood on the top of the new mass of dirt and 
surveyed the wreckage in front of him.  Tom had told him 
the ship's diameter was close to thirty miles, and even 
from his vantage point high above the debris field, Mulder 
could not see the edge furthest from him.  The ship itself 
seemed structurally in tact, though it was covered with 
unimaginable amounts of manmade and natural materials.  
Parts of buildings that had been on the edge of the city, 
rocks and trees, bridges, asphalt, metals, glass, the 
Mississippi River.  Mulder even saw what he could only 
guess were pieces of the Gateway Arch itself.  

Somehow, amongst all of this, he had to find a way inside 
the ship and get to William.  He would lift every rock, 
every scrap of metal and walk every mile of that ship until 
he found his son, or die doing it.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 28, 2012
2:37 pm

Gibson could smell smoke.  Not just faint and wafting, but 
thick like tar in his throat. Before he even opened his 
eyes his body spasmed as he wretched a dry, abrasive cough.  
He instinctively sat up, not wanting to choke, but when he 
did, sharp pain in his legs made him flop down again on his 
back thus making him forget his first problem.

"Whoa, take it easy, Gibson," John said from above him.  
Gibson felt a hand on his shoulder before he saw John's 
face come into view, leaning over him.  

"Try to drink this," Monica said, kneeling next to John.  
She cradled the back of his head to elevate it and helped 
him take a few sips of water.  When he finished, he looked 
around.  He was back inside the cave.  Underneath him was a 
semi-comfortable layer of sleeping bags.

"What happened?" he rasped.  As if the coughing and the 
pain in his legs weren't enough, his head throbbed at his 
temples.  He squeezed his eyes tightly in an effort to 
lessen the ache.

"It's okay.  You're safe.  It's over," Monica soothed.

"You did it," Aiden's voice came softly before Gibson 
watched him step to his other side, opposite John and 
Monica.

"Did what?"

"Something stupid, but it worked," Aiden said.

Once Gibson had his bearings straight, and his mind had 
time to process his surroundings, his memory came back to 
him.  He remembered running away from the hiding place, 
hoping to lure the Super Soldiers away from the children so 
they could complete their link with William.  He remembered 
intense pain in his legs and a flash of heat like instant 
sunburn against his back.  Explosions.  He remembered 
multiple explosions.  

"Monica, was I hallucinating, or did I see you standing 
over me holding a rocket launcher?"

Monica smiled broadly.  "I found an entire crate full of 
them hidden further back in the cave just after you both 
left.  Nobody else even knew they were there.  I made sure 
everyone had one, and we followed you out.  A few of us 
circled up to the mesa from the back route and took out the 
choppers.  I couldn't let you boys have all the fun, now 
could I?"

"What about re-generation?" Gibson asked, half expecting a 
gang of Super Soldiers to come crashing through the tiny 
cave door.  He glanced over unconsciously and noticed the 
door was wide open.  A bright beam of sunlight stretched 
through the four-foot tall opening touching just inside the 
cave.

"Not going to happen this time," Aiden said.  "I'm pretty 
certain the rockets hit their sensitive spots, but just in 
case, the kids all walked over the remains."  

"The alien fighters?" Gibson asked.

"John and Aiden drove a few miles outside of camp," Monica 
answered.  "They crashed.  The aliens inside were dead, 
charred like that first one that chased us on our way here.  
We're not sure what happened, but it looks like the iron 
allergy."

Gibson pushed himself up on his elbows, grimacing from the 
pain, but staying in that position despite it.  "It was 
William," he said, knowing instinctively exactly what had 
happened.  He wasn't as talented as the children.  He 
couldn't connect telepathically with William from that 
distance unless William initiated the contact, but he knew 
the mission had succeeded.

"That's what we're hoping," Aiden said.  "It's what the 
kids believe."  

They were all quiet for the next few moments, the 
excitement from re-hashing recent events fading into calm 
reflection.  Gibson glanced to his right, towards the 
corner of the cave they'd come to think of as the hospital 
ward.  He saw Scully lying exactly where he'd left her.  
Her body was covered to the neck in heavy blankets in their 
vain attempt to keep her from shivering.  Further past her 
on an air mattress that stood two feet off the ground, was 
Jeremiah Smith, still lying on his back, unconscious.

"Is he still alive?" Gibson asked.

Monica followed his gaze and nodded.  "He's still 
breathing.  He hasn't regained consciousness, though."

Gibson lowered his lashes. "Somehow, I thought after it was 
over, he would wake up."

They all became very somber, understanding exactly what 
Gibson meant.  If Jeremiah was awake, maybe he could bring 
Scully back.

"His injuries had nothing to do with the aliens anyway.  
Liam did that."  John said sadly.  

"No he didn't.  The aliens have something to do with it.  
I'm just not sure what," Gibson said.  "Or why it's still 
not over."

"Oh," Monica said softly.  "I almost forgot.  You should 
probably take these."  She handed Gibson two cream-colored 
pills.

"What are they?"

"Penicillin.  I think the bullets grazed you.  Didn't 
appear to go inside your leg, but we don't want the 
injuries getting infected."  She helped him drink water to 
wash the medicine down and then glanced over at Scully.  
Gibson knew she was right.  The aliens might be gone, but 
this was still a changed world.  Nothing would ever be easy 
again and even a tiny scratch, much less a more serious 
wound, could become life-threatening. He only wished Scully 
hadn't been the one to demonstrate that to everyone.

"I'm really tired," he said, lying back down flat.

"You should get some rest," Monica said.  We'll all be here 
when you wake up."

Gibson closed his eyes and thought about the promise he'd 
made to Mulder to keep an eye on Scully.  He wondered where 
Mulder, Tom and William were and when they'd come home and 
he wondered what he would tell them when they arrived.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
5:03 pm

It was getting very dark.  Mulder had walked several miles 
across the ship, painstakingly checking every seam, every 
scratch, trying to find a way inside.  His fingers and 
palms had scratches, a few of which were bleeding, though 
the flow was slowed by the thick layer of filth covering 
his skin.  He barely noticed.

Moments earlier, the sun had sunk below the horizon, and 
the only light remaining was a soft halo of orange left in 
its trail.  He wished he'd remembered to take the 
flashlight from the car before he'd started searching.  
With the fading light, soon he'd have to walk all the way 
back to get it or risk killing himself on the treacherous 
surface of the ship, which looked more like a battlefield 
than a space craft.  Mulder supposed that was precisely 
what it was.  A war had taken place here and all the 
casualties were entombed beneath his feet.

That was a bad thought.  William was alive.  He felt it.  

Mulder sighed heavily and kicked a small piece of smashed 
concrete sitting near his foot in frustration.  He turned 
to begin the walk back to his car, making a mental note and 
arranging several manageable pieces of metal into an X so 
that he would know the exact location where he left off 
once he returned.

He hadn't taken three steps when he heard a low, rhythmic 
sound that did not sound like shifting debris or residual 
sounds from the crash.  

It was a voice.  

He became very still, strained his ears to listen.  Several 
seconds passed, but he heard nothing.  Even his heart 
sounded too loud, but when he didn't hear the voice again, 
he assumed it had been the wind and wishful thinking.  

*No, it's me.* The voice was much louder and clearer this 
time, originating from Mulder's mind.

"Will?  Is that you?  Can you hear me?" he shouted.

*No, but I think you're standing above me,* William said.

"Holy shit!  Hang on, Will.  I'm coming for you!" Mulder 
shouted unnecessarily.  He frantically looked at his feet, 
and began shoveling any debris he could lift out of his 
way, creating a clean swath of space several feet in 
diameter on the surface.  

"How the hell can I get inside?" he asked himself, then 
louder, "Hold on, William.  I'm coming!"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 28, 2012
4:04 pm

John lifted his chin and stood up on his toes, hands firmly 
on his hips.  He arched his back slightly trying to see the 
top of the mesa above the camp.  Smoke still billowed from 
the ruined helicopters and it was beginning to make him 
ill.

"I think the fire's almost out," Monica said from behind 
him, reading his mind.  She wrapped her arms around his 
waist, leaned her cheek into his back.  He smoothed his 
hands over hers, which were clasped near his belt buckle, 
and smiled.  He turned his head back, trying to see her.

"I really hope so.  Where's the fire department when you 
need them?"

"Government employees... what're you going to do?" she 
replied dryly.

"Someone should consider wiping out all government and 
starting over," he said, matching her tone.

"You should suggest that to your Congressman."  She sounded 
drowsy, and he relished the warmth from her body against 
his back.  

"Maybe I will," he said laughing softly.  "How are you 
doing?"  He twisted around to face her, their arms still 
around each other.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"I don't know.  I don't know how to feel about this.  It's 
hard to believe it's all really over.  And I can't believe 
Dana's really gone," she said, her eyes filling with 
moisture.

"I know.  Me neither," he said.  He touched his forehead to 
hers and took a breath.  "What do you think we should do?"

"You mean, with Dana?"  she asked, pulling away slightly.  

He nodded.  "She can't stay in the cave forever.  I know 
it's going to be hard, but--"

"We can't do anything until Mulder and William return," she 
interrupted.  "John, we have to let them say goodbye before 
we bury her.  I can't even imagine how devastated they'll 
be.  To come all this way together only to have it end like 
this."

"I've been thinking, maybe it would be a good idea if I 
took a ride to meet them halfway.  Maybe even go all the 
way to Missouri," John said, scratching his stubbled chin.  
Absently he wondered how long it had been since he'd last 
shaved.  Too long. 

"What for?" Monica asked, stepping back from him so she 
could fully see his face.  

"We don't really know what happened.  The kids haven't 
gotten a read on them since all hell broke loose," which 
had become the official phrase for what had taken place.  
"We don't know if they're okay, or if they're hurt and need 
help.  If we wait, it might be too long.  I'll follow their 
route until I either run into them, or reach wherever they 
ended up, not that I have any idea where that is.  I figure 
it will be easy to see them on the road though.  Not much 
traffic these days.  Maybe I can get Aiden to come with 
me," he said quickly.

"Might not be such a good idea, John.  You can't just pick 
up a phone and call for help if you get into trouble," she 
said, her weight on her left leg, hands on her hips, brow 
creased.  

"I have to do something, Monica.  I have to get them home 
safe.  Get them home to Dana," his voice cracking on the 
last words.  

Monica nodded, and the tears she had been holding back 
finally spilled over her cheeks.  "Okay," she whispered.  
"You should leave soon."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Saint Louis, Missouri
December 28, 2012
6:24 pm

"Mulder?" William gasped.  "I can't breathe."

Mulder registered the meaning of William's words several 
seconds after he heard William speak them.  He had his son 
wrapped up tightly in his arms, squeezing like a python and 
not sure he could let go.  He never wanted to let go again.

But he did.  For now.

Mulder loosened his grip and pulled back to see William, 
holding firmly onto his shoulders.  They both were on their 
knees facing each other, surrounded by sharp metals, 
concrete boulders and every imaginable material in 
existence, both of this world and beyond.  The tiny exhaust 
hatch William had climbed out of stood open a few feet 
away, as bent and twisted as the rest of the ruined city of 
St. Louis.  It had taken Mulder an hour to find the hole 
William had crawled into from inside the ship and another 
twenty minutes for them both to pry and kick the small 
grating away from the rest of the ship's hull.  The air 
around them was chilly, not more than a few degrees over 
freezing, but both of them dripped with sweat.  

William was alive and it was all over.

"Are you okay?  Is anything broken?  Are you cut anywhere?" 
Mulder asked rapidly, scanning his eyes and hands across 
William's body, searching for injuries the way Scully used 
to mother *him* after one of his own mishaps.  

William panted, but smiled.  "I'm okay.  Not even a 
scratch," he said, raising his palms to prove his case.  

Mulder hugged William once more, but made a conscious 
effort to release him quickly, not wanting to smother him.  
Mulder couldn't imagine what had taken place aboard the 
ship or what William had been through.  

"I'm okay," William repeated with less conviction than 
before.  "They're all dead.  All of them.  I heard them 
dying."  William spoke soberly, but his was tone 
controlled.  Mulder made a note to himself not to forget 
what William had just said and to talk with him about it 
later.  Now was not the time for a discussion, but what had 
happened wouldn't be over for his son for a long time, 
regardless of how relieved they both were at the moment.  

"What about Tom?" Mulder asked swallowing the little saliva 
he had left in his throat.

William shook his head.  "I can't hear him anymore.  We got 
separated.  They took him," William said, then repeated, "I 
can't hear him anymore."  This time, William could not keep 
the tears from falling.  His lip quivered, he squeezed his 
eyes tightly and fell into Mulder's embrace.  "I want to go 
home," he said.

"Let's go," Mulder whispered.  "It's time for you to rest, 
son.  I'm so proud of you."

Mulder stood, picking William up in his arms.  The boy 
offered no protest, whether from exhaustion or grief, and 
Mulder started the long walk back to the car, the first leg 
of the journey home.  To Scully.

^^^^^^^^^^^

West of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
December 29, 2012
Dawn

Mulder should have been passed out cold like William, but 
as exhausted as he was, his mind was wired.  It had only 
been slightly more than twenty-four hours since he'd slept, 
but a week's worth of events had happened in that time.  
All he wanted to do was get back to Canyon City, wrap his 
arms around Scully and let her see that he had kept his 
promise.  He was bringing William home to her for good.  

At his current pace, they'd be at the camp by late 
afternoon, maybe early evening if his eyelids got too 
heavy.  Without Tom to share the driving, Mulder knew it 
was only a matter of time before his body overrode his mind 
and forced him to rest.

He glanced at William, reclining in the passenger seat, his 
head resting on his hand and turned towards the window.  
William had told him a little of what had happened on the 
alien ship, but within fifteen minutes of getting on the 
road had fallen asleep.  Mulder had briefly considered 
staying a while longer and searching for Tom, but William 
had made it clear that he didn't believe Tom was alive.  
Mulder hadn't known him for very long, but he'd come to 
truly respect the man.  He'd died a hero, quite literally 
saving the world.  As long as Mulder was alive, that would 
not be forgotten.

In the rearview mirror, the sun popped up above the 
horizon, shedding welcome light on the road and shutting 
out the darkness of a day Mulder would prefer to forget, 
but knew he never would.  He turned his attention back to 
the road in front of him and saw a smaller ball of light, 
though less intense and whiter than the sun.  As it grew 
closer, Mulder realized it was not one single light, but 
two lights.  Headlights.  

A car was heading towards him.  

As it approached, it slowed.  Mulder's first instinct was 
to speed up and pass the other car.  In this changed world, 
it was hard to know who was a friend and who was not.  But 
Mulder's curiosity and intuition caused him to follow suit 
and slow the car to a stop in the middle of Interstate 40, 
thirty feet from the white truck.  The windshield of the 
other vehicle was tinted, but Mulder made out there were 
two people in the front seats, no telling how many could be 
inside the cab of the Ford Explorer.  The doors opened, and 
John and Aiden jumped out, running the distance to Mulder 
and William.

"What's going on?" a groggy William asked, sitting up and 
looking around as if he saw nothing.  William had inherited 
Scully's tendency towards morning fog.  It had always been 
best not to require her to do any heavy mental lifting 
until a good hour after waking her up and at least two cups 
of strong coffee.  Mulder imagined William heading towards 
a similar future.

"It's okay," Mulder said.  "We have some company."

Mulder opened the Honda's door and slid out, using as much 
energy as he could muster.  He didn't bother closing the 
door before walking towards John and Aiden who likewise 
were heading towards him.  Mulder glanced back to see 
William following tentatively, sensing he didn't want to be 
left alone even if it was only a few feet away.  William 
wiped at sleep in his eyes in an effort to clear the 
cobwebs from his groggy mind.

"What are you two doing here?  Not that I'm complaining," 
Mulder asked, stopping a few feet in front of John and 
Aiden.  If he'd been a little less exhausted, he might have 
flung his arms around them both, but as it was, he could 
only manage a weak but heartfelt smile.

"We assumed you succeeded in doing whatever you were doing 
when the aliens burst into flames and crashed their space 
ships outside of camp.  We wanted to make sure you got back 
safely.  We were right, weren't we?  It's over?" John 
asked.

"It seems that way, though William and Tom deserve all of 
the credit," Mulder said.

"Where is Tom?" Aiden asked, looking towards the car, his 
eyes darting towards William who looked away.  "Oh," Aiden 
said sadly.

Mulder lowered his head, looked to the asphalt and shook 
his head.  After he took a breath, he raised his head back 
up.  "He and Will got separated on board the mother ship.  
He didn't make it."

John opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it down tightly 
without saying a word.  Mulder knew how he felt.  What 
could he say that would be adequate?

"Yeah," Mulder agreed to John's silent sentiment.  "The 
whole damn ship crashed.  I hope you've already been to St. 
Louis, because if not, you've missed your chance forever," 
Mulder said without his usual fervor for sarcasm.  He 
scratched the back of his head and sighed heavily.  
"Listen, I know you drove a long way, and there's so much 
to tell you about what happened, but do you think we could 
get going?  All I want is to get Will back to camp, wrap my 
arms around Scully and sleep for a solid week."

John and Aiden stiffened and looked at each other when he'd 
said Scully's name.  They seemed to be asking each other 
what to say next with their eyes.  Mulder's internal alarm 
bells went off.  "What is it?  Did something happen?  She's 
okay, isn't she?"

"Mulder..." John started.  He tried, but he couldn't seem to 
maintain eye contact.  

"What is it?" Mulder asked forcefully, his voice rough from 
overuse and fatigue.  

"No, not her, too," William whispered, so softly Mulder 
barely heard him.  

Mulder stepped closer to John and grabbed his jacket, 
fisting his lapels.  "What happened to her?"

"I'm sorry, Mulder," John said, his voice equally hoarse, 
eyes reddening.  "The gunshot wound got infected.  We gave 
her antibiotics, but it wasn't enough."

"Jesus Christ!" Mulder said, shoving John and turning away.  
He bent over at the waist, his hands on his knees the only 
thing keeping him from falling over.  He felt sucker-
punched.  "Jesus Christ, she's dead?  You're telling me 
Scully is dead?" he gasped.

John nodded, his face twisted in a grimace that looked 
about one thousandth as pained as Mulder felt.  "I'm sorry, 
Mulder.  We didn't want you to find out before you got back 
to camp.  Didn't want to blindside you."

Mulder looked around, wiping his eyes to clear the blur.  
"Where's Will?"  Seconds later, he heard the Honda's door 
slam shut.  William sat in the passenger seat, folded his 
arms over the dash board and put his head down on them.  

As William's father, Mulder knew it was his job to comfort 
his son, but how could he do that when he had no air in his 
lungs and every part of him, inside and out, throbbed.  
This was not supposed to happen.  

This was not the way it was supposed to end.

Tears fell as Mulder's knees gave out and he collapsed to 
the pavement.  "I was bringing him home," he said to his 
hands, praying that somewhere Scully heard him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The air was dense and oppressive, heavily surrounding his 
body and insinuating beads of moisture into his lungs.  
Jeremiah hated this damn humidity.  Regardless of who was 
in power, the weather alone was enough to keep him from 
returning to his world forever, if he had his way.  At 
least Earth had a diverse climate, beautiful in its 
unpredictability and atmospheric violence.  His home world 
was as if they took the Mohave Desert, stuck it in the 
Bermuda Triangle and removed the Caribbean Sea.  Dull, 
lifeless, air so thick you could cut it with a machete, and 
the same no matter where you went.

"It's not quite as bad as you make it out to be, is it?" 
the voice asked, from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Jeremiah looked up to the twin moons, far apart from each 
other in the waning sky.  They were both crescent shaped, 
but mirror images of each other on opposite ends of the 
horizon.  It was beautiful, he admitted to himself.  Part 
of him longed to see his home world once again with his 
eyes instead of just his mind.  Only a small part.  He 
sighed heavily.  "No, it's not.  The years away fighting 
the Ruling Grays has tainted it for me.  I will never see 
the same place I saw as a boy."

"That fight is largely over.  Those who did not die are now 
significantly outnumbered.  Perhaps there is a chance for 
peace."

"You would know better than I would.  Wouldn't you?" 

There was no response at first, and then silence was 
followed by a soft chuckle.  Jeremiah was still getting 
used to the idea of God with a sense of humor.  "That's who 
you are, am I right?"

"If I answered, where would you find the mystery in life?"

Jeremiah shook his head and smiled.  "I think I'm getting a 
taste of my own medicine."

"Jeremiah, I was about to give you a kind of reverse 
"Sophie's Choice", but it seems you've taken away all the 
drama."

"Excuse me?"

"If you had wanted to return here, I would help you find a 
way back.  The people here will need strong leaders with 
pure hearts to guide them from thousands of years of bitter 
rule fueled by revenge and a false superiority complex.  
They would welcome you home.  Your family is still here..."

Jeremiah had not seen his family in a long time.  His 
parents had died long ago, but he still had a brother and 
two nephews, both with children of their own living not far 
from where his mind had placed him now.  His heart ached to 
see them again.

"You are giving me the choice to go home or stay on Earth?"

"The time has come for Man and Gray to unite as equals, but 
they will need guidance.  There are those like you, like 
Aiden, and those like William still alive, and despite 
their best efforts the Colonists did not manage to destroy 
all of human kind.  Though they must come together to 
survive now, there will be certain distrust, fear and 
animosity amongst them all.  They need your help, but it is 
your choice to make."

"You want me to create peace and harmony among the 
survivors on Earth and lead them to a common society built 
from the ashes of a scarred psyche and planet?"

"It sounds ridiculous when you put it that way."

"I don't think one man or Gray can accomplish that."

"No, but look what one boy was able to accomplish with some 
help."

"My choice is to stay on Earth."  That was not even a 
challenging decision.  "But I have no idea how to do what 
you're asking of me."

"Maybe you can start by helping one woman," the voice said 
and suddenly the twin moons of his home world blinked out, 
and Jeremiah was plunged into darkness.  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The car was his favorite place to be.  There were always 
new, bright and colorful things to see through the window.  
The easy motion lulling him to sleep.  Her scent, of 
something sweet and faintly flowery; her soft humming 
always assuring him she was there, even if he couldn't 
quite see above the seat between them.  Quick glances, 
cheerful smiles in the rearview mirror.  Her melodic voice... 
something about a "bullfrog," she was saying.  

The car was where he could have her to himself, where he 
spent the most time with her.  The car had been his 
favorite place to be.

Not anymore.  

"Wake up, Will," Mulder said, his hand on William's 
shoulder gently shaking.  "We're almost there."

William's eyes fluttered open.  He expected to see her in 
the front seat, and feel the comforting restraints of 
safety belts over his shoulders and at his waist, a 
plastic, jingling thing hanging in front of his nose.  But 
he was not in a baby seat.  He was in the back bucket seat 
of John and Aiden's truck next to Mulder on his way to see 
another mother he hadn't been able to save in time.  His 
first mother.  His real mother.  The mother he barely knew, 
yet desperately wanted to remember.  

He dug his hand inside his jeans pocket, clutched the small 
metallic object within.  He pulled the badge she had given 
him for Christmas out and smoothed his fingers over the 
soft gold.  She had told him it reminded her of the things 
she had to do even when she didn't want to do them.  Like 
what he had just faced on the alien ship and what he was 
about to face once the car stopped.

The car was now his prison, locking him inside with only 
his too few memories and abstract visions.  The car was his 
haven and he hated it.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Canyon City
December 29, 2012
4:33 pm

They passed the wreckage of three alien fighter ships 
before finally parking at the edge of Canyon City, as far 
as the truck could go.  The four of them got out of the 
truck slowly and without speaking.  Mulder looked up to the 
towering, red limestone canyon walls that arched overhead, 
allowing only a sliver of light in at that point of the 
camp.  He hadn't noticed how much this place resembled a 
tomb until now.

They walked a few steps inward in the direction of the main 
camp.  William kept close to Mulder's side, his eyes 
trained towards his feet, turning Scully's badge over and 
over in his hands.  They had barely spoken during the ten 
hour drive home since meeting John and Aiden.  William 
seemed numb, like he had after Rob's death.  

They'd ditched Monica's Honda, allowing Mulder and William 
to sleep as comfortably as possible.  Mulder's rest had 
been fitful.  He knew he had slept, but he still felt 
exhausted.  He'd tried to think of Scully, to think of her 
face, but each time he did he felt sobs crawling up through 
his belly and for William's sake, wanted to refrain from 
displaying such raw grief.    

The camp was quiet; the only sounds their feet shuffling on 
the fine dirt and rock ground.  

"John?  Is that you?" It was Monica.  She came around the 
bend in the rock wall, jogging a few feet to meet them.  "I 
thought I heard you," she said somberly.  "Mulder, I can't 
believe you did it."

Mulder heard her speaking, but didn't really register her 
words.  He felt her hug him, though her touch felt more 
like biting one's lip after being injected with novacaine.  
Barely there.  He heard John and Monica speak; Tom, William 
and his own name liberally spread throughout the 
conversation.  "Monica," he finally interrupted brusquely.  
"Where is Scully?  I need to see her."

Monica halted her chattering and turned towards him, her 
face growing serious.  "She's inside the cave.  Gibson is 
with her."

Mulder had no idea if she said anything else.  He 
immediately broke into a sprint, running the hundred yards 
to the door of the cave.  Before he ducked inside the open 
door, he heard quick footsteps slide to a stop a few feet 
behind him.  He didn't turn around, knowing it was William.  
Mulder took a deep, shaky breath, bent at the waist, almost 
crawling inside the dimly lit cave.

In one back corner was a raised bed of air mattresses and 
another one near it about half the height.  Both were 
empty.  Seated in a chair near the air mattresses was 
Gibson, looking at Mulder with his usual unreadable gaze, 
his legs propped up in a makeshift ottoman of pillows.

"Where is she?" Mulder asked angrily.  Oddly, Gibson 
smiled.

"Behind you," a soft, smoky voice soothed.

Mulder whirled around on his heels, nearly spinning himself 
right on his ass.  She stood a few feet away, near the 
entrance to the cave, light from outside spilling around 
her body.  "Scully!"  For a split second, he wondered if he 
saw her apparition, then thought there was only one way to 
know for sure.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and 
stood up straight, lifting her off the ground nearly a 
foot.  He buried his face into the crevice of her neck and 
shoulder, inhaling her corporeal scent and feeling her 
soft, cool hair tickle his eyelids.  

"Shhh," she soothed, her fingers gently caressing the hair 
on the back of his head.  "It's okay."

"They told us you were dead," he said, his cracked voice 
muffled by her body.

"I know.  I'm sorry.  I'm here," she said, pressing a kiss 
to his neck below his ear.

"Oh, Scully, I'm sorry. Your arm," he said stepping back 
slightly.

"It's okay.  Good as new," she said, pulling him close 
again, squeezing tightly with her left arm to prove her 
point.  Mulder glanced up.  Behind her to his left in 
another corner of the cave stood a tall, older man with his 
arms folded across his chest.  Jeremiah Smith smiled, and 
Mulder nodded a quick 'thank you', though Jeremiah had an 
enormous bear-hug of his own coming in the near future.  

Mulder felt small hands at his waist encircling his back 
and he looked down.  William had wrapped his arms tightly 
around Mulder and Scully as they held each other.  Mulder 
let go of Scully with one hand and pulled William closer to 
him, and Scully did the same.  As the three of them held 
each other, the sobs Mulder had held back during the ride 
home spilled out of him.

Only now, they were born of unimaginable elation and 
relief.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

EPILOGUE

Canyon City
December 31, 2012
11:51 pm

The survivors of Canyon City brought in the New Year with 
reserved jubilation.  They gathered together with food, 
drink and camaraderie on the cliffs towering above the main 
camp near the burned out carcasses of two military 
helicopters, remnants of the former world.  During the past 
couple of days many had helped to gather bits of dried wood 
and other flammable debris which they threw onto one giant 
pile. Just after dusk on New Year's Eve, they set it 
ablaze.  As the clock approached midnight, the bonfire 
continued raging, roaring towards the heavens like a beacon 
telling whoever could see it that they had survived and 
intended to thrive.

The community had decided to celebrate on the mesa 
overlooking vast open spaces and thousands of canyons, 
hundreds of miles of red rocks spread out all around them 
across the horizon, rather than in the camp itself as a way 
to say "that was our past and all this before us is our 
future."  Canyon City had been, for many of them, their 
home for a very long time, and for at least a while longer 
it would continue to be their sanctuary, but it would no 
longer be their prison.

For three of the current residents, this night would be 
their last in camp.

Mulder and Scully walked with their hands loosely clasped 
towards the edge of the mesa, their backs warm as they 
moved away from the fire, their faces basking in the cool 
air in front of them.  "Are you sure you want to leave 
tomorrow?  We could wait a few days," he said.  They 
stopped a few feet from the edge of a cliff.  It was 
peaceful and private in this spot, though they weren't far 
from the exuberant cheers of the others.  The sky above was 
a velvet blanket of stars which for the first time in a 
long time evoked a sense of awe in Scully, rather than 
impending doom.  

"I'm sure," Scully said.  "I need to be certain, Mulder.  
I'm afraid if we wait... if she is alive now... something else 
will happen in the meantime."  

They had found William, and though millions had suffered 
immeasurably, total alien Colonization had been averted.  
Those two paramount goals, the culmination of their twenty-
year quest, had been accomplished, yet not everything was 
finished.  Scully needed to know what had happened to her 
mother.  

Just prior to the first waves of the Plague, while she and 
Mulder were still in Minnesota, Scully had sent enough 
serum to last her mother and her brothers' families for a 
month or longer.  She'd included instructions on dosage and 
how to inject, but there hadn't been time for Scully to 
make sure her mother had received the package, or that she 
understood what to do with it.  And there was very little 
chance that Bill would submit himself or his family to 
injections of a substance created by the sister he believed 
was dead to survive the impending alien invasion.  

Countless things could have and likely had gone wrong along 
the way.

"I know it's a long shot, Mulder, but --"

"Scully," he said, touching his finger to her lips gently, 
"you don't have to explain.  She's your mother."  He slid 
his finger over her chin, down and over her neck to cradle 
the base of her head.  "She's my family, too," he added.

Scully smiled broadly.  

"What?" he asked, his smile mirroring hers, with a touch of 
self-consciousness.  

"Nothing.  I've just never heard you include yourself as 
part of the Scully's before."

"Is that okay?" he asked, genuinely unsure.

"Of course it's okay, Mulder," she said, taking both of his 
hands in hers and gently squeezing.  "I've tried to tell 
you for years that you are part of my family."

"Now you, me and William are finally a family, too."

"Finally," she breathed.  They were a family now, though it 
had come at an enormous price.  "Are you positive he's okay 
with leaving Canyon City?"

They both twisted their hips and looked back over their 
shoulders towards the bonfire.  William and Joy were poking 
sticks into the flames, creating mini-torches.  They 
repeatedly snuffed them out in the dirt and dipped them 
back into the fire, lighting them again and again.  William 
glanced up, likely perfectly aware that they were talking 
about him.  He held up his torch and smiled wide enough 
that his teeth glittered in the firelight.  He waved with 
his free hand and zigzagged his stick like a sparkler, 
drawing shapes in the night air.  Scully and Mulder waved 
back before William turned back around, laughing with Joy 
and a few of the other children who had joined them.

"He said he wants to go," Mulder said, turning back to face 
her.  "I think he's a little scared, though.  His friends 
are here and this is where Rob is buried."  

It *would* be hard to leave this place.  They hadn't been 
here very long, but it had been a welcome haven during a 
terrifying time.  John and Monica had decided to stay for 
the time being, not wanting to uproot Joy so soon after all 
that had happened.  The other children had been taken in by 
the entire camp in a kind of communal parenting, especially 
important now that Tom was gone.  Christian had taken his 
death particularly hard, and Monica believed it was better 
to keep them all together at least for a while.  

"I could always go by myself.  You could stay with Will.  
Maybe that would be better for him --"

"Not on your life, Scully.  We go together or not at all.  
We're a family, remember?" Mulder said.  "I think Will is 
going to be fine.  Besides, with his abilities, he'll be 
able to talk to any of the kids -- or Gibson, Aiden, 
Jeremiah -- anytime he wants."

"Okay," she said softly.  She hoped Mulder was right.  
Traveling across the country to places unknown with William 
would be challenging in ways she likely couldn't imagine 
this soon after recent events.  Mulder and Scully would be 
taking the place of Rob and Susan Van de Kamp, the only 
parents William had known until a week ago.  Though so much 
had happened to bring them closer together, there were 
bound to be many bumps in the road as they moved forward 
together.  But they would move forward.  Even with the 
dawning of the Fifth Age and the culmination of all that 
had driven Mulder and Scully since they'd met, there would 
not be time to relax just yet.

Well... maybe they had a little time.

Scully looked at her watch.  In spite of all it had gone 
through, it ticked methodically on.  The minute hand was 
approaching twelve and behind them, the others began their 
countdown.  "TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"  Mulder laughed and Scully 
followed his gaze to see William put all of his body into 
shouting along, so much that he looked like he might knock 
himself over.  The other children matched his enthusiasm.

"SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

There would be no ball dropping this year in Times Square, 
no New Year's Eve bash in Las Vegas, no fireworks exploding 
over the great cities of the world, but one tradition would 
remain unchanged.  Scully wrapped her arms around Mulder's 
neck, her fingertips smoothing over his face. 

"THREE! TWO! ONE!"

Mulder lowered his head and kissed Scully gently on the 
lips, the contact brief but tender.  He pulled back and 
said, "The world didn't end."

"No, it didn't, Mulder," she said.  Pausing, she added, "It 
was a close one this year, though."

He chuckled and drew her closer into a warm hug.  "Too 
close," he said.  "Happy New Year, Scully."

"Happy New Year, Mulder."

The cheers of the people of Canyon City echoed in the brisk 
night air, multiplying their voices by a hundred as they 
jumped and hugged and kissed each other.  Scully wasn't 
certain who had started it, but one by one other voices 
joined in with someone singing "Auld Lang Syne."  

Mulder took Scully's hand and led her back to join the 
group of survivors, another family of sorts, who surrounded 
the bonfire in a loose circle.  As they sang they gave warm 
nods to Monica and John, Jeremiah, Gibson and Aiden, and 
Scully hoped she would see them all again.  They stood next 
to William and Mulder ruffled his hair, pulling him against 
his side, sandwiching their son between himself and Scully 
as they all swayed with the comforting song.  They stared 
into the flames -- a symbol of destruction and renewal, of 
all that had happened and all that was to come -- and 
brought in the year 2013 together.  


THE END

NOTES:  Wow, I can't believe it's finally finished!   There 
was a time when I didn't think it would happen.   I hope 
you have enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing 
it.  I had been thinking about this story for a few years 
before I tackled it, and from the time I started, it took 
me almost three years.  Without the enthusiasm and 
encouragement of all of you readers, I don't think it would 
have been finished, so my heartfelt thank you goes out to 
each and every one of you.  I also want to re-thank my 
betas, Ellie, boussh, and Jaime Lyn (for the first two 
parts).  You guys helped me become a much better writer 
than I was when I started.  Maybe one of these days I'll 
learn not to comma splice and use really odd phrases.  I 
don't want to get anyone's hopes up, but there is a 
potential sequel to Mesabi rolling around in my mind. I 
won't gaurantee it will materialize and if it does, I 
expect it to be much shorter, but the possibility is out 
there.  Thanks again everyone!  ~Z (4/17/2006)