Will stood in the background out of the way. He watched his mother dab a cold washcloth at Mel's bloodstained face. It was like watching something that wasn't real play out before his eyes. He couldn't connect his pure guilt and pain with the picture that lie before him.

His trance broke when Monica and John burst into the apartment. He watched them rush to Mel's side. John questioned her about the man that did this to her while Monica talked softly to his mother.

Mel murmured quiet responses that Will couldn't quite make out. She wouldn't look at him. He turned and left the room, trudging quietly towards his room.

"Wait," his father said to him.

Will turned slowly around to face his father who had been standing in the living room on the phone.

"What?" he asked.

He watched his father's face change several expressions, as if his body wasn't sure which emotion went with whatever emotions were running through his mind.

"You can't blame yourself for this," he finally said.

Will snorted and replied, "It's kinda hard not to."

Mulder nodded, a look of understanding passing his face. "I know. Just talk to her. Talk to someone."

Will didn't respond and went on to his room. He shut the door and dizzily walked over to his bed, still feeling the effects of the alcohol. He laid there a long time, trying to think of a sufficient apology for Mel.

What seemed like and eternity later, Mel came into the room and closed the door.

"Thanks for knocking. I coulda been naked you know," Will said, placing his arm over his eyes.

He felt the bed shift as she laid next to him. He involuntarily moved closer to her, his body reaching for her warmth. She sighed and said nothing.

"I'll kill whoever did that to you," William stated.

"I'll probably kill him first," Mel replied, knowing he didn't realize how true that may be.

"I've been a lousy friend lately. I'm sorry," Will apologized, pulling his arm away from his face and turning to face her. He let his eyes trail over her profile. Her small nose moved slightly under the deep breath that she took.

"No William, I've been the bad friend," she said softly, licking her bottom lip.

"How so?" Will asked incredulously.

"I haven't been honest with you. From the time I knew how to write my name I knew things about you and your parents that I could never tell you. For your protection," she explained.

"I know that now, I know you weren't supposed to tell me," Will said, putting his hand on her stomach.

Her face reddened a little from the intimate gesture and he quickly removed his hand.

"Sorry, still slightly drunk," he mumbled.

"No, it's ok," she replied quickly.

She cleared her throat and continued, "Anyway, there is no reason to keep things from you anymore. I want you to know the things I know. I want you to know more about me."

He nodded, willing her to go on.

For the next hour she went into detail of her life. The life that he never knew about but was so much a part of. His eyes grew wide and his body trembled as he heard the storied of how brave his best friend truly was. His whole world crashed around him as he kept his gaze locked on her solemn face. A face he knew so well, but now seemed so foreign to him.

When she finished she looked over at him only to find tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"I…Why?" was all he could say.

"I'd do it all over again."