A/N: Trigger warning. Graphic depictions of non-con and violence ahead.

Closure: Chapter 2

"Mulder," she screamed as the crowbar swung into his chest, catching him briefly on the side.

"Scully, drive!" He gasped as he jumped back from the next swing. He kicked the door and it snapped close. "DRIVE" he shouted, this time, dodging another swing. She wouldn't leave him; Couldn't leave him.

"Mommy?" Her son looked around terrified. Why was his daddy fighting?

"It's okay, Willie." She claimed with shaky breaths, scrambling in the glove compartment, looking for the gun she had kept there. In her old car; the one that had been totaled and scrapped for parts to buy this new one.

She had to leave. She had no choice. She had to protect her son. Scooting over to the driver's seat, her dress briefly catching on the clutch, she tried to start the car. Keys. Keys. Keys.

He had the keys.

There was no escape. She turned just as the crowbar swung into her husband, hitting him hard in the chest. He doubled, gasping for the wind that had been knocked from him. Tears sprung in her eyes but before she could shed them she realized there was more than one man. Two more hopped from the car, and she pressed the locks, just as the short one fumbled with the door handle. They were going to kill them. She hit the bottom of the steering wheel aggressively, pulling out the sheet of plastic that protected the wires.

The bat he was holding swung at the window. Bam. The window held up. She had to help Mulder. Did he have his gun on him? She had to save her son. She fumbled for the car light, before remembering that they needed to get it fixed. Dammit. Dammit. She could hotwire a car; she remembered from their days on the run. But she couldn't see the colored wires. She didn't have scissors.

Her son was asking questions, and she couldn't answer them. He was breathing heavily and crying for his Dad.

Bam. Why hadn't she placed the gun in her glove box? Her hands scrambled for the cell phone sitting on the car charger, thinking of the light it could provide before realizing the cracks in the window. Her son. No time. Small cracks broke into larger ones as she hurriedly worked her agile fingers at the locks on William's child seat, cursing in her head for getting the 'extra safe' booster seat with the clips across the waist. He already had the seatbelt, why did she need to buy him the one with the waist clips as well. She cursed herself. "William, I need you to run" she said looking her son in the eyes, and trying to comfort him once again. This time her hands shook violently. He wasn't comforted.

"Momm-"

The window shattered and hands reached through, grabbing her long red hair and pulling with no restraint. "RUN!" She roared as she was being ripped through the window, her scalp burning, and arms fighting her unseen attacker. Her little boy threw the opposite door open with his small fingers and slide from their car, his scrawny but long legs carrying him into the night, feet crunching on the ground. She was happy momentarily that she'd argued with him over his shoes, making him change into his black dress shoes for the special occasion in lieu of his light up Spiderman sneakers. She fought the hands at her hair, looking for anyone to help as she screamed out. "Get off of me!" She thrashed in their hold, scratching her nails down his arms viciously. When he momentarily let go of her hair she scurried back into the car, desperately trying to get to the other side and escape. She could run for help if she could get away. "Leave us alone." Mulder was pinned on the trunk of the car, his head bleeding. The tall scrawny one searched his coat pulled out his badge, using it as an affirmation. Mulder fought him for what he tried to grab next, mustering the energy to momentarily break free and punch his assailant in the face. He heard a crack. They would not get the gun in his holster. They would not hurt his family. To his surprise he felt a sudden pain in his abdomen, and began to slide down the car in shock, holding his stomach as the scrawny man punched him. His nose was broken; that he knew for sure as the blood leaked from it.

"Shot my brother yesterday and thought you'd get away with it?" He questioned, kicking Mulder in his ribs with all of his force. His vision became blotted and his fingers slipped from the gun on his hip.

This was about his case. Michael Dimitre was under that mask, coming for vengeance.

"What about the bitch?" His stocky companion asked, reaching his stubby fingers into the car as she began to scramble out.

"Didn't know he even had one," The man smiled with malice.

"MULDER!" she screamed, clawing at the interior of the car, first grabbing the seat and then the steering wheel. He was yanking at her bare legs, and suddenly pulled her like a tug-of-war rope, her hands coming unclasped from the door. Her body collides with the ground, forcing the air from her lungs with a sickening weeze. She gasped, trying to fill her lungs; oxygynate her blood. They're going to kill us. When she found that air had flooded her lungs once again she thought of William, waiting for them to come find him. He would wait and they would never come. She couldn't abandon him. Not again.

"Please, we have a child." She yelled as the man mounted her from behind, flipping her body over like a ragdoll so she could look at him. He smiles through the mouth hole in the mask and asks her: 'would you like another?' his foul breath lingering in her nostrils. She spits at him, his open palm then leaving a hot stinging sensation on her face. The hand not holding her arms above her head reaches out and cups her breast. Hard. She thrashes, kicking and screaming. His eyes were all she saw as his knife glistened off the moon and her blood rushed through her veins. "Be good for me, baby." The metal was cold against her throat, and she stared wide-eyed. He removes the knife from her porcelain skin. "Much better."

William is waiting. We can't abandon him. Not again. She couldn't determine whether it was the FBI training or the memories of her past attacks that lead her to head butt the man with all she had. He recoiled in shock and her fists, now free from him, delivered a punch to his throat She peddled back from under him with her hands and feet on the hard gravel, grabbing the knife. She stood, shaky on her heels, and backed up against the car, holding out the knife in her defense. The two men huddled over Mulder left him, instead deciding to surround her instead. The one she head butted soon recovered, joining the other men. The ring leader took a step forward with a smirk and she swiped at him.

"Get the fuck away from us!" She spat, her hair falling over the side of her face as she swung the knife. Her eyes were wide; feral.

They couldn't take her family.