October 25

Scully sighed as she stepped into her home a few nights later. From the street outside, she had seen that all the lights were out except for Will's room. She glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven o'clock. Will should have been in bed hours ago.

She shook her head, knowing how Mulder had a tendency to lose track of time when with Will. Many a time had she come home late to still find them playing with Will's Lego block. Mulder would just look up at her innocently, and she couldn't find it in herself to berate him. Nor could she fuss at Will. He had his father's ability to put on such a cute puppy face.

She stepped inside the house, noticing that the couch was empty, meaning that Mulder was still with Will and hadn't fallen asleep while Will took it upon himself to get up and play again. She walked past the kitchen, which was actually clean, just how she had left it that morning. For a moment, she figured that Mulder had just taken Will to McDonald's or something, but the trash did show evidence of that. Did Mulder forget to feed Will, Scully wondered to herself.

She shook her head again. No, Mulder wouldn't forget to feed Will, even if he forgot to feed himself. She slowly walked up the stairs. "William! Fox! You were supposed to be in bed hours ago! Wait until I find where you're hiding!" she shouted up the stairs, letting the pair know she was home.

Still, there was nothing. No scrambling noises as Will rushed into bed, no giggling as Mulder found a place for Will to hide from his mother. Nothing. It was unsettling, and Scully didn't like it at all. She put her bad down at the top of the stairs, wondering if perhaps they had both fallen asleep.

Scully crept up to Will's door, which was slightly ajar, the light flooding into the hall. She quietly pushed it open, then peered inside. At first she saw nothing, then her eyes rested on the still form of Mulder lying on the floor, a small pool of blood beneath his head.

"Mulder!" she cried, rushing to him. Thinking quickly, she checked for a pulse right off. She found it, and was relieved. She turned him over onto his back and held his face, which was nearly covered with blood from wounds on his forehead and temple. He was almost unrecognizable.

"Mulder," she said softly, hoping he would awake. But he didn't, despite all the times she said his name. Tears began running down her face as she fully realized what had happened. Shelves, toys, and decorations littered the floor of Will's room, and his closet door looked like it had been knocked of its hinges. The window to Will's room was also broken. This, to Scully, meant that someone had broken in with the intention of taking only Will. Obviously, Mulder had been in the room when it happened and fought. Somehow, they'd beaten him.

Will's gone, and Mulder is unresponsive. How much worse could things get? she wondered to herself, praying that they wouldn't.

* * * * * *

October 26

Scully sat in a chair next to the bed, staring at the wall, but seeing nothing. It was almost two o'clock. Three hours since she had come home to find Will gone and Mulder unconscious. She'd taken Mulder to their room and fixed up his wounds the best she could. Then she'd laid him on their bed to wait for him to wake up. He still hadn't. He lay still, almost as if asleep.

She'd entertained the thought of taking him to the hospital, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told that it was a bad idea. She figured that whoever had Will wouldn't take kindly to them leaving the house. She also didn't think she would be able to pull Mulder all the way to the car. Dragging him to their room had been hard enough.

The wounds she had found on Mulder had confirmed her guess that there had been a struggle. The multiple bruises on arms, stomach, and chest all seemed like the results of some fierce punches and kicks. His lip was split, along with the ridge over his eye. Must have been some fight, Scully thought to herself.

She closed her eyes and placed a hand on Mulder's. He stirred, finally, mumbling incoherently. Scully leaned over, grasping his hand tightly.

"Mulder. Wake up, Mulder. C'mon."

He stirred again. "Scully?"

She tried to hold back her tears of relief. "Yeah, Mulder. It's me."

His eyes slowly opened and he turned to her. "Scully," he whispered hoarsely.

"I'm here. I'm here."

He clenched his eyes shut and looked away. She saw tears running from his eyes as he spoke. "I failed him, Scully. I failed our son. It was my job to protect him, and I couldn't even do that."

She tightened her grip on his hand. "You didn't fail him. It's not your fault. You fought for him, right?"

Mulder pulled his hand away slowly and looked away, unable to tell himself that he had done all he could for his son. Scully watched as he rolled over painfully, turning his back to her. Then he got to his feet slowly and headed for the door, stiff, as if in pain.

"Where are you going?" she asked worriedly.

"Downstairs."

Scully watched then as he walked out of the room and disappeared around the corner of the door. After a minute or two, she heard a loud thump and crash. She rushed out of the room as fast as she could and saw Mulder at the bottom of the stairs, pulling himself off of the ground.

She climbed down the steps quickly. "Mulder! Are you alright?"

Mulder didn't answer, he just buried his face in his hands. Scully saw his shoulders heave gently, and she knew that he was crying. She sat next to him on the stairs and put her arms around him, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.

"Will. We'll never see him again," he was saying between sobs. Scully shook her head gently, but the same weight had fallen upon her heart. Would they ever see their little boy again? Was he alive or was he already dead? Scully buried her own face in Mulder's hair and was unable to keep her own tears from falling.