"Still Out There"
Written by: revery
Plot: Post-"Truth" After the death of his father, 18 year old William Van De Kamp receives a message from a mysterious man saying that his father has died, his real father, Fox Mulder. William sets out in a search for his biological parentage and the truth they worked so hard to uncover.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files or anything that has been created by Chris Carter or 1013 Productions. I only worship.
Part 2: Un-Earthed
Madeline: "Life has a way of coming full-circle. If we believe that we were created from the mud of the Earth, we live, we procreate, we leave our offspring on the Earth and we die, once again becoming one with the earth.
Or do we come from elsewhere? When we look up to the stars at night, are we glimpsing our true origins? Did they come here and plant their seed in the Earth, thus creating our womb?
Life is created every moment of every day, yet it is the greatest mystery to which there is no answer. To know our true origins is to know the unknowable. It is the answer that and been sought since the beginning of human civilization. And with every generation that fails, the next is closer to succeeding.
While science and religion seek to explain, to give this answer, lives are still being lived. And there are lives intersecting to bring one life full-circle."
Will heard a woman's voice singing to him. It was soft, but upbeat in tempo. He couldn't understand the words but knew the voice loved him. He tried to open the eyes to see who it belonged to but when he did there was just black. The voice faded and he was lying on a dirt floor. Above him, stood an elderly man. His skin was bronze and baked by the sun. His face was cracked with deep lines, making him look not just old but also dignified. The old man's hair was white and done in two long plaits that snaked down his shoulders.
Will knew that this man was strong in spirit, his moist brown eyes reflected power but without corruption. For a moment, as he stared into his eyes, Will saw the man flicker in appearance from Madeline and back again. Something clicked in Will.
"Albert?" He whispered. Albert seemed to smile gently.
Suddenly a pain ripped through Will's mind. Like a surge of lightning, sparking the atoms in his brain, taking control of him. His body erupted in a seizure. He felt Albert graze his forehead with his arthritic hand and the seizing stopped and he was calm.
Hope Medical Facility
June 4, 2019
8:30 am
"What's wrong now?" Shaker demanded. He looked out through the window at William. He was lying, strapped down, on a table in the middle of a sterile operating-type room, a half-dozen doctors surrounded him. After more than eight hours of treatments on the boy; Shaker was beginning to grow restless and irate.
Bridget stood next to him. Her hand covering her chin and mouth in thought as she viewed her nephew. "He's relapsed again."
"Well, those doctors keep pumping him full of drugs, his body's going to do that," Shaker pointed out, his agitation waning.
"But his mind is strong," she told him. "William can take it." As an afterthought she added, "You still think it is a good idea to do this now?"
Shaker glowered at her then looked back out at William, "I'm just the messenger."
"And you don't shoot the messenger?"
A sardonic grin crept across his face, "In my case, it'd be futile."
Near the Four Corners
Apache County, Arizona
June 4, 2019 9:07 am
Madeline slowly opened her eyes. She knew again that this was not her bed, and she was no longer in Washington DC. The air was hot, but the air conditioning unit in the place made it considerably cooler. She sat up on the bed, instantly becoming aware of the shooting pain in her head.
"Oh you're awake," Monica's familiar voice said behind her. Madeline swiveled around and saw a weary but smiling Monica. The older woman's face was bruised and scratched where she had fallen. Madeline remembered seeing her get hit with a beanbag and fall and her screaming before Will pulled her away.
"Where's John and Roe?" Madeline asked.
Monica nodded over her shoulder. "Back there getting patched up. Come on and I'll clean you up too."
Madeline nodded, her head hurt with every movement. She stood up and the world swirled but she regained her balance after a moment and followed Monica into the living room which was substituting as a make-shift trauma ward.
John was sitting upright on the couch, shirt off, tiny scratches covered his torso, arms and face. A patch of gauze and salve covered the burned area where he was hit with the taser fangs.
Roe was sitting in a chair near him, shirt off too, wincing as another man wrapped his middle with a long ACE bandage. Roe smiled wide when he saw Madeline.
"Hey sleepyhead," he wheezed.
"Hey," she replied, not looking at him, but at the huge bruise that covered his sternum.
"Don't worry," he told her, "It feels worse than it looks."
She laughed a little and so did he, grimacing as he did so. Painfully, he reached up to lightly stroke the side of her head. "They got you good didn't they?"
She nodded, "Where's Will?" She asked turning to John and Monica.
Silence fell across the room. "They took him," Roe finally answered.
"Took him where?" She asked.
"We don't know," John sighed. "We all barely got away as it was."
Monica guided Madeline to the spot next to John and pulled up a chair next to her. She began cleaning off the dried blood on Madeline's cheek, ear and hair. John stood up and got his shirt, pulling it on and wincing. "What happened?" He asked Madeline.
"Somebody snuck up behind us. They hit me with my gun and then everything went dark." She explained.
John nodded, "Yeah we found you in the basement. You woke up on the plane and began screaming for Will. You said 'she took him'."
Madeline shrugged, "I don't know. There were to other people there. Will knew one of them."
"The woman?"
She shrugged again, "Maybe."
The man finished bandaging Roe. "There," he said. "Just try not to like, breathe."
Roe coughed, "That shouldn't be too hard." He got up, clutching his abdomen and lied on the couch as Madeline moved aside a bit for him. She looked at the other man. He was stocky, a little shorter than her, had spiky dark blond hair and a trimmed moustache and goatee. He wore glasses that hid his green eyes. He looked like he was about 25.
"I'm thirty-seven," he answered her, although she never asked a question.
Madeline stared at him. "I didn't say anything," she stammered.
"That's Gibson," Roe told her. "Gibson Praise, this is Madeline No-last-name."
"Her last name's Hosteen," Gibson Praise told Roe.
Roe raised his eyebrows at Madeline, "So you are related to Albert?"
She glared daggers at him for a moment and turned back to Gibson, "How did you that?"
"Gib can read minds," Roe said. "It's all very spooky until you play chess with him."
"I don't use it anymore," Gibson said to Roe.
"I know, that's why I beat you all the time now," he grinned. "Agents Mulder and Scully rescued him a couple times. And so did he."
John smacked Roe on the back of his head. "You dumbass."
"What?" Madeline asked. "Who are they?"
Roe rubbed the back of his head and scowled at John. "Sorry."
"Who are agents Scully and Mulder?" She asked again.
Monica answered this time. "They're the agents that worked on the X-Files before John and I."
"They're Will's parents, aren't they?" She asked quietly.
Another uncomfortable silence fell over the room until Gibson spoke, surprising John and Monica. "Yes. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are Will's parents. Dana gave Will up for adoption when he was about a year old when some people tried to take him from her. It's they same people who took him now; they want Will for what he is.
"What is he?" Madeline asked, her voice a whisper.
"Special," Gibson replied. "Like me, but different."
Madeline's eyes watered at the thought of what Will might be going through, worst of all that he was alone in it. "Where is he?"
Gibson shook his head.
"We have to find him," she said her voice growing louder.
"We will," John said firmly. "We will."
Will was walking through the desert. Flat-topped mountains, mesas, rose up out of the ground, casting shadows on the valleys below. Saguaro cacti stood proudly around him, their arms reaching to the sun. Will stopped to admire a particularly large one of these green giants. He had only ever seen a picture of a saguaro in one of his encyclopedia books. At home in Wyoming they didn't have cactus, only mountain ranges and tall trees. Their ranch herded cattle at one time, before his dad fell ill. He liked the tall, snow-capped mountains at home, but here in the desert, the painted hues of browns, reds, and oranges were such a stark contrast against the ever-blue skies.
A figure made him look past the tall cactus and he saw Albert standing a few feet from them. He smiled, relieved to see him. "I thought you had left me," Will said.
"Your mind called you elsewhere, White Buffalo," Albert told him. "I couldn't go."
Will frowned, "That is not my name."
"What do you call yourself?"
"I don't remember," Will answered truthfully.
Albert asked, "What do others call you?"
Will tilted his head in thought. "Will."
Albert smiled, "Is White Buffalo willing to sacrifice everything for the green people?"
Will looked back at the saguaro cactus. "Is that what they are called?"
Albert nodded, "They are the green people, beautiful and proud. They carry long memories within them. Not unlike my people or yours."
"How's that?"
"They are slowly vanishing."
"My people are disappearing?"
Albert shook his head this time, "Nothing disappears without a trace."
Hope Medical Facility
June 4, 2019
10:46 am
Shaker leaned back in his chair, stifling a yawn. Another two hours had passed and there was still no progress on the subject. He wanted to leave, go to his modest apartment and catch some sleep but he couldn't. He couldn't leave until Bridget did and it didn't seem like the woman was leaving anytime soon.
Bridget, who was as dangerous as she was pretty, and everyone knew so. If you didn't, you found out the hard way. Shaker did have to admire her for her bluntness, but she lacked the drive that he had, for he had the most powerful motivator of all, more potent than love, hate, and stupidity.
Shaker looked over at Bridget. Somewhere between now and the basement, she had changed. She took her assignment with seriousness; protect the boy at all costs until the father dies. With their bosses' word that Mulder was dead, Bridget had to get her "nephew" out in a display of desperation. In time, Will would begin to understand his role little by little until the time came for him to become what he was created to be. However, Shaker mused, there was one thing that didn't add up.
"Bridget?"
"Hmm?" She murmured.
"Why did you have him go to New Mexico first?" He asked casually.
She responded without looking at him. "Those were the orders."
"Oh," Shaker nodded. "From who?"
Now Bridget looked at him, mirth dancing in her eyes. "Your bosses' didn't tell you?"
He frowned, "No."
She smirked, "I guess you'll have to ask them."
Shaker could feel anger boiling inside him. For a moment, he didn't care who she was he would shoot her dead right there in the room. His hand traveled to his gun holster and to his surprise he found it empty.
He looked over at Bridget, who held it aloft in her hand. "You better learn to keep that temper, Shaker. Save it for your precious Mulder."
He glared at her and a slew of curses flew across his mind but didn't make it to his lips. He took the gun from her then checked it to make sure it was still loaded. He stood up, "Go to hell," he said to her before slamming open the door and walking out of the room.
"I'll see you there," she replied quietly, looking back out at Will.
Near the Four Corners
Apache County, Northeastern Arizona
1:21pm
Madeline's eyes began to glaze over. She blinked so that she could focus on the type in front of her. It had been over four hours and she was getting frustrated. The five of them had began pouring through files, old newspaper clippings and letters in an attempt to figure out where Will could be. Old FBI and new NPIB facilities were immediately crossed of the list; it would be too easy if Will was there. Feeling more and more on edge and helpless, Madeline's attention began to wander. She looked over her papers at Roe. He was snoring lightly, every so often a groan of pain would come from him as he shifted.
Her eyes then wandered over to John and Gibson, both were deep in a quiet conversation she couldn't hear. Monica was sitting at the table across from her and Madeline met her gaze.
"Bored?" Monica asked.
Madeline chuckled softly. "Can you tell?"
Monica shrugged and stretched her arms above her head. "It's hard having all this and not getting anywhere.
Madeline nodded in agreement. "I keep thinking that something will click, a place or word will jump out at me and I'll know where Will could be."
"Will could be anywhere," Monica said, pointing out the obvious to Madeline's annoyance.
"He isn't," Madeline said firmly. "He's somewhere. Somewhere someone took him and he doesn't know why."
Monica frowned slightly at her choice of words but ignored it.
"I should've shot the woman first," Madeline said.
"Who was this woman?" Monica asked.
"I don't know. She knew Will and he knew her, I guess that's why I hesitated."
"You have good intuition," Monica told her, trying to be as comforting as possible.
Madeline rolled her eyes, "My intuition's for shit." She sighed, "I'm reading these files, files written by someone who knew Albert and Eric before I did."
"I thought Albert died before you were born," Monica asked.
"He did," She said indifferently. "You know, my father was a kid when he met the FBI man, um Mulder. He wasn't much younger than me and it changed him."
"How?"
"The F… Mulder and his partner brought something to Albert. He understood the words, but they weren't regular Navajo words, they were a code for another code. My father didn't know the language, but Albert had him memorize this anyways. When Albert died, my father learned the language to know what Albert made him remember, and then he taught it to me."
Monica knew not to ask but she couldn't help her curiosity, "What is it?"
Madeline shook her head, "If I knew, maybe it'd help us find Will."
She turned and caught Gibson's eye. They stared at each other for a moment, a crease formed across Gibson's forehead then he relaxed and gave her a short nod.
"Son of a bitch!" John exclaimed suddenly.
His abruptness jarred Roe out of his light sleep and the agent bolted up right, yelping "Ow!" as he did so and clutching his chest.
"What is it?" Monica asked.
"Spender," he said with a growl. "That rat bastard. He would know where Will is." He gets up and stalks to the kitchen. Monica gives Madeline a reassuring but worried smile and followed him.
She looked at her husband, leaning over the kitchen sink, knowing full well how much he was hating this. She asked him quietly. "Would he? Would Jeffery Spender know where Will is?"
John shrugged, his shoulder flared in pain but he paid little attention to it. "He's the best lead we have so far," John offered. He looked over at her, "I'm sick of waiting around here, Monica. Will could be dead."
"He isn't, and we will find him. We owe that to Fox and Dana."
Unbeknownst to the couple in the kitchen, their voices carried out into the room where Roe, Madeline and Gibson sat. A thoughtful expression crossed Gibson's young-looking face and he sat quietly. Madeline swallowed a growing lump in her throat, trying to force away John's words that "Will could be dead". Roe watched Madeline.
John and Monica came back into the kitchen. Gibson nodded to them before John spoke. "We're going to find an old… friend," he stressed the last word with sarcasm. "You three stay here until you hear from us."
"Like hell you two are going alone," Roe said. "You'll need back-up."
"And that back-up should be able to lift a gun or at least breathe," Gibson said to him. "It makes sense that we split up for the time being."
"Gibson's right," John agreed. "The fact that we're all together now makes it dangerous. At least this way if the people that took Will want us, they'll have their attentions divided. The fact that we all got out of D.C alive is suspicious enough."
Roe had to admit that he was right. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "But I don't have to like it."
"It's settled then, we'll leave in an hour," John said.
Will woke up in a hospital bed. All the IVs and straps were gone and there were no doctors in sight. He saw clothes on a bureau and changed quickly out of his hospital gown. He peeked out of his room and into the corridor. There was no one. As stealthily as he could, he made his way down the hall. He passed by other empty rooms, turned a corner and nearly plowed into immaculately clear sliding double doors. He looked around for door controls and found them, the doors slid open and he entered a new corridor.
Will got no more than two steps when halted in his tracks, falling back as he did, when he walked by the first room. He scrambled back behind the solid wall and dared to steal a look out. Another clear set of double doors gave view to a whole room. A person lied lifeless on a gurney, surrounded by scrubs-wearing doctors that were performing similar tests to the ones that were done on him. He was unable to move. There didn't seem to be any guards or anything, and the doctors all looked too busy. Will took a breath and jumped to his feet and began to run to the end of the hall. None of the doctors even looked up as he ran as fast as he could through the hall. He passed a dozen rooms, all with the same scene as the first, but still no one saw him. He pushed his way through the first door he saw and found himself in obscurity.
A moment passed as he caught his breath in the dark, then unexpectedly, lights overhead flashed on and he was standing in a huge warehouse type of room. His eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, fearful that he had been caught he reached behind him for the door handle but it was already locked. Will saw hundreds of black body bags, stacked five high on racks, and spaced out in rows throughout the warehouse. He got a sudden chill, knowing almost certainly what was in those bags. He looked around and saw a light situated over a door. With mild trepidation, he picked his way through the rows. He caught the words on one of the tags that hung from each bag. "SUBJECT: Terminated CAUSE: Viral VACCINATION: None"
Will got to the door and opened it. It was another corridor, like the one before, with the same transparent doors looking into rooms. His anxiety was growing but he was less and less worried about getting caught. Only a few of the dozen rooms were occupied this time and there were no doctors. In one room, a thick black liquid dripped out from a large metal holder into a funnel connected to tubes running through the next room. The tubing ran all through the next room into another and was being pumped intravenously into three naked humans on gurneys. He heard a low buzz from across the hall and saw another room full of bees. Will kept walking through the hallway, turned another corner, found another dozen rooms, only this time there was screeching and crying coming from them. As he walked by and he saw women in labor, surrounded by masked doctors. He watched as each woman gave birth to a horribly disfigured infant. It was slimy from the fluids and had gray skin as if it did not get enough oxygen. But he soon recognized what they were from their almost non-existent mouths and huge black eyes.
Startled and horrified he ran down the hall to the next door and hesitated before opening it. He was beginning to feel like Alice chasing the white rabbit through Wonderland, only he never wanted to be here in the first place. The door shut behind him and he was up on a catwalk, down below him he watched men shove grown aliens into incinerators and toss the alien babies into fiery pits. Will's knees buckled and he was overcome with the sense that he was being set aflame as well. He struggled along the catwalk, looking to the end where the next door was, crippled by fear, confusion, and pain. Suddenly he realized that this was not just his fear, nor was it his confusion and pain he was feeling, it was the aliens below him. Gathering all the strength he could, he made it to the door. He managed to open the door and let it slam behind him before collapsing, to his surprise, on something soft.
After a few moments of lying there face down, trying to catch his breath and letting his body catch up to his brain, Will picked his head up and saw that he had made it outside the building. He sat back on his knees and ran his hands through the blades of cool green grass under him. It was such a difference to where he had just been, the beauty of a field like this surrounding a house of death like that. Down a few yards ahead of him was a sparkling lake. Standing by it was Madeline, in an outfit he hadn't really expected her to be wearing, a soft, flowing white cotton skirt and a white bohemian-inspired blouse. Her straight black hair was free from its one long braid and spilled down her back. A breeze kicked up across the lake, rippled her white skirt and her hair in the wind.
"Madeline!" He called out to her. She turned and rewarded him with a soft smile. He jogged towards her. Once he reached her he really realized how gorgeous she looked. The white against her copper-brown skin and her deep chestnut eyes looked out into the lake. He looked down into the water to see what she was seeing. Dead, bloated bodies of humans and aliens float just below the surface of this glistening calm lake.
Will took a dismayed step backwards. His mouth formed words that wouldn't come out.
"All their answers lie in you," Madeline said to him, not looking up.
Will shook his head angrily, "What about my answers?"
He watched her turn to him and placed her hand on his chest above his heart. Her hands trail up to either side of his head and she looked up into his blue eyes then his head wrenched back.
Will opened his eyes. He is still on the operating gurney, strapped down. Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings/ He thrashed against his restraints, but it was no use. He felt a hard pinch on either side of his head, two long needles were being pulled out of his temples. Will began to scream.
Near Four Corners
Apache County, AZ
7:47pm
Madeline's eyes flashed open and she gasped. Roe and Gibson, playing a game of chess at the table, looked over at her. It had been some time since John and Monica had left and the three were left to their own devices. Madeline had fallen asleep, curled on the couch. Her heart raced and she felt clammy, as if she was splashed by cold water. She looked at Gibson first, while Roe just stared.
"What's wrong?" The agent asked her.
Gibson answered, "She knows where Will is."
Roe looked from Madeline to Gibson and back again. He frowned and Madeline stood up. "We have to go," she said, resolve evident in her voice.
Roe was bewildered. "But John and Monica…"
"We'll call them when we get there," Gibson said. He was already up and checking the gun John left.
"Whoa, no way," Roe said getting up. "You two aren't going anywhere without me."
"You can't go, Arthur," Madeline told him as grabbed her gun, the gun Will had pulled on her what seemed like so long ago. "You're still too weak and we're gonna have to move fast."
"Madeline," he said, concern coloring his voice. He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I can't watch you walk out into danger like this."
She kissed him softly on the cheek. "Then close your eyes," she said and pushed him in the chest. He yelped in pain and fell to the couch. When he looked up, she and Gibson were gone.
Hope Medical Facility
10:06 pm
The first thing Will felt was the hurt all over his body. It was a deep ache, past his skin and into his muscles and veins it seemed. The second thing was thirst and he became acutely aware that he wasn't alone in the room.
"If you're gonna sit there," he cracked out in a hoarse whisper. "You could get me some water."
Shaker moved and poured Will a glass of water from a pitcher. He topped it off with a straw and held it between Will's lips to suck through. When Will was done, Shaker set it back on the table. He looked over Will.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
Will coughed out a chuckle, "You really expect me to answer that?"
Shaker conceded, "Right. Well, you'll feel better soon enough."
"What did you do to me?" Will asked.
Shaker exhaled, "I didn't do anything to you, I just watched."
"What's happened to me?" Will gritted his teeth.
"They've returned you to what you were. What you were meant to be," Shaker replied simply. "But don't worry, stress will only aggravate the treatment."
Will tried to move, but he was still strapped at the ankles and wrists, he could left his neck up but it hurt, a lot. "What treatment?"
"Reverse blood transfusions. The doctors have devised a way to filter all your blood out of your body, flush it free of what was hindering your abilities and then pumped all back in," Shaker explained. "Then they had to restart some nerve endings in your frontal lobe," His eyes were wide in mock concern. "I'm told it's very painful and precarious work."
Will was so angry, he couldn't think of what to say. "Why?"
"I told you, to restore you."
"To what?" Will glared at him. "I remember you. You told me people would be coming, because of my father, because of who I was."
"I didn't lie to you, did I? And now you're almost back to who you were."
Tears ran down the sides of his head and into his ears, "I don't understand."
Shaker's voice was soft, for a moment, Will believed that he did care somewhat. "You're gonna save the world, Will. They're coming and it is your blood that's going to save us."
Will shook his head, "I'm not your Jesus."
Shaker laughed, so ironically it was eerie. "God has nothing to do with this."
"Then what?"
"Every kid wishes they could be Superman, Will. I know I did. I always wanted to tie a cape around my neck and fly and kill the bad guys and save the world." He paused, a distant look in his eyes. "But I always ended up being Lex Luthor."
"Some how I get the feeling you're not as ambiguous," Will couldn't help but adding.
A Cheshire cat grin breaks across Shaker's face. "You're right on that. But still, feeling's the same. Superman wanted to be normal, he wanted to be Clark Kent all the time, and Lex wanted Superman's power, to be considered a hero."
"I'm not Superman."
"See, that's not entirely true. You're actually a lot more like him than you think."
Will lied still for a moment. The vision s of dying aliens and human test subjects were still fresh in his mind. Will looked up, towards the shadows. The rooms began to shake and Will felt himself come free of the straps and he lunged at the unsuspecting Shaker. They crash to the ground and Will's fingers close tightly around Shaker's neck. From the shadows, Bridget rushed forward and hauled Will off Shaker with more power than he thought she had. Bridget injected something into Will's neck and he slumped to the floor.
"No!" Shaker cried out raspy.
Bridget looked at him getting up. "Would you rather he kill you?"
Shaker didn't reply, merely glared at her and stood over Will who was fast slipping into unconsciousness. "Get him back in bed and strap him down. Tell the doctors to finish his treatments," he ordered and walked out of the room, rubbing his throat. Bridget watched Shaker leave then looked down at Will, who looked back up at her before his eyes rolled back and he was asleep.
Bryant Reynard's Residence
Maine
June 4 10:13pm
John knocked on the heavy door. He and Monica stood on the porch of a nice house that looked out into the harbor. They had gotten to Maine a couple hours earlier, got a car and took an hour's long drive from the airport to this small fishing community. The night air was crisp and Monica shivered.
"Mr. Reynard?" John called out knocking again. "Hello?"
"John, maybe this isn't the right place," Monica said.
"It's the right place," John said confidently.
They both saw movement at the window. "Mr. Bryant Reynard?" Monica tried this time. "We have to talk with you."
"Listen buddy, we don't got all night, and we know you're in there, so either open up or I'm gonna break down you're door," John said, he was on his last nerve.
Monica gave John a dirty look and knocked again. "Mr. Reynard… Jeffery?"
"Go away!" A voice called back.
"Jeffery Spender?" Monica asked again.
"To hell with this," John muttered and kicked the door in with little effort. Monica gave John another look before they entered. A man was sitting on a chair in front of them, gun in his hand.
"Put your hands up," he ordered before they got the chance to grab for their weapons. He studied their faces for a moment then knit his brows in confusion. "I know you two."
"Yeah no shit Sherlock," John spat. "Put that gun down."
The man hesitated a moment then complied. He stood up. "How did you find me?"
"You are Jeffery Spender?" Monica asked. The man didn't look like he did the last time they saw Jeffrey Spender. His face had been reconstructed, a long scar ran from his forehead down around his nose and cheekbone to his chin. His hair wasn't a bad-looking wig but his own wavy black hair flecked with gray.
He nodded, "The miracles of plastic surgery. The one medical field that keeps striving forward. Now, how did you find me?"
"We were FBI agents," John reminded him.
Jeffrey nodded and smiled a little.
"Have you been here this whole time?" John asked.
"Yes," Jeffrey replied. "After my brother's trial, I knew they'd hunt me down and kill me. They were content in destroying your careers, but me, like Mulder, had gotten too close to the truth. They were especially furious with me after I took Will away from them. So I disappeared like you did."
"Who are they?" Monica asked.
"The same men who've been continuing their experiments on humans and aliens, to develop the vaccine that will cure everyone once the aliens begin to re-colonize."
"I thought that was supposed to have already happened," John said, some disdain dripping into his speech. Even after all these years, he still had trouble coming to terms with the idea of aliens.
Jeffrey shrugged, "Dates change. I know you didn't come here to gloss over memory lane. What's up?"
"We need your help," Monica said. "They found Will."
Jeffrey shook his head, "That's not possible. Scully gave him up. She didn't even what family adopted him."
"That doesn't matter now," John said. "They, these men, have him now and we need to know where they could be keeping him.
Jeffrey sat back down on the chair. His face was miserable. "I don't know how…"
"A place. Any place, a starting point," John said. When Jeffrey didn't respond John grabbed him up by his shirt collar. "Listen to me, I don't really like you. I've read all your files from your work on the X-Files. You may be Fox Mulder's brother, but you're nothing like him."
"John…" Monica said but he ignored her.
"You know what's going on here," John continued. "So you can help, no, you will help, because your nephew is in danger. And I damn well won't sit by and wait until Armageddon or when these aliens come to Earth when there's something I can do about it. But it starts by finding Dana and Mulder's son."
Jeffrey looked into John's eyes, and saw that this man was never going to back down. John would go to the ends of the Earth and back to protect the people he cared about, and right now that person was Will. Jeffrey gave a fractional nod and John let go.
"There's a place in Colorado, but…" Jeffrey paused. "It might be too late."
The color drained from Monica's face and John's jaw dropped. "What do you mean?" Monica whispered.
"They've already begun their treatments," Jeffrey replied.
John was confused, but Monica understood. "Will isn't the same anymore though. Not after what you did."
Jeffrey shook his head. "The magnetite injection was only a way to put Will's alien cells into hibernation. They would lie dormant permanently unless someone administered the right technology, cleansing Will's blood of the magnetite but that could kill him."
"I'm… I just don't understand," John said.
"Will carries the anti-virus," Jeffrey explained wearily. "Because both parents were infected once with alien DNA, then produced him, he's able to fight off the alien re-colonization. He won't be an alien-human hybrid slave."
"So Will's blood is the vaccine," Monica said.
"Yes. And his children and children's children will carry it too."
"That's why they took him," John said. "To restore the alien DNA and cure everyone. He's patient zero."
Hope Medical Facility
Colorado
June 5 7:11am
Madeline pulled into the parking lot and shut off his car. Gibson looked at her. The whole ride over was in complete silence. Madeline drove staring straight ahead. Her eyes locked on the road and her mind locked with concentration.
"I don't know how I know, but he's here," she said to Gibson.
"I believe you," he said. "Let's go get him."
They got out of the car and walked in. The facility was more like a clinic. There was a waiting area and a receptionist. Madeline held her head while Gibson spoke. "My sister has been having really bad headaches," he said to the nurse.
"Has she fallen recently?" The nurse asked.
Gibson shook his head, no. "It started after she went camping. When she got back she said that she could hear voices."
The nurse frowned, "Voices?"
Gibson leaned forward and whispered. "I don't really believe her but she said she was abducted. You know, by aliens."
The nurse narrowed her eyes and looked at them. They didn't look like brother and sister. The male was young-looking, maybe around 25, and the girl looked Native-American. Still she had to report any alien abduction claims. "Take this," she handed Gibson a clipboard, "And go to the 3rd floor. Ask for Dr. Edan."
Gibson nodded graciously and guided Madeline to the elevators. Once they were inside Madeline sighed relieved. "Did you get anything?"
"She think she's working at a neurology clinic. And she has 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' stuck in her head."
"Well, where to?"
"What do you mean where to? I thought you knew where Will was."
Madeline glared, "I did the hard part. I figured you'd be able to pinpoint him."
Gibson thought for a moment, "The nurse did think something about alien abductions. That she had to report all claims to Dr. Filmore."
"So we look for Dr. Filmore," Madeline said as the elevator dinged for the 3rd floor. They stepped out and walked to another receptionist's desk. "Excuse me," she said with a smile. "We're looking for Dr. Filmore's office. Is this it?"
The pretty receptionist smiled, "No, his office is down on one of the sublevels. Did you need to see him?"
"We just wanted to thank him for all the help he's given us," Madeline replied.
"He is a wonderful doctor," the pretty receptionist agreed. "Take the elevator at the far end of the hall, sublevel 4. If you don't find him in his office, you can leave a message with his secretary."
"Thank you so much," Madeline said and she and Gibson left the office. "Well?" Madeline asked Gibson.
"Dr. Filmore treated her father," he replied. "She didn't lie and she thinks you're hot," he grinned.
Madeline rolled her eyes and they got to the elevators. They got on and a bald man in a white labcoat got on as well. Before Madeline could punch the button for SL-4, Gibson took a hold of her hand. "Wait," he whispered. The man pressed SL-5. The three of them rode down together, Gibson help Madeline back until the bald man got off. "Follow him," he nudged her.
"Why?"
"He's been monitoring Will."
Madeline and Gibson trailed the bald man down the corridor, careful not to follow too close. Gibson shook his head, "Stop, he suspects us. Duck into the next room."
They did. It was a recovery room with a patient in a body cast. "Now where?" Madeline asked, her voice low.
"I don't know. I got flashes of a room. 304 maybe?"
Madeline looked at the room number they were in. 206. "It's at the end of the hall, c'mon."
They walked out and as nonchalantly as they could they made it to room 304. There was no guard posted outside and for a moment Madeline wondered if this would be too easy. They got into the room and Madeline stopped. Next to her Gibson drew in a sharp breath. It was Will. He was lying on the bed, strapped down. He was pale and his lips were cracked and dry. There were dark circles under his eyes which were wide open, staring up at the ceiling.
Madeline took a step towards him, "Will?" He made no movement. "Will, it's Madeline."
"You're not real," Will said. His voice was gravelly. "Please just go away."
Madeline suppressed the urge to cry. "No, Will. I'm real and I'm here to get you out."
Will couldn't move his head because it was strapped down, but he looked over. "You're not a dream?"
She shook her head, "No."
"I saw Albert. I communed with the spirits," he whispered, a ghost of a smile played around his lips and eyes.
She laughed softly. "So did I. We're getting you out of here." She and Gibson began to unstrap him. Carefully, they eased him into a wheelchair. Gibson found some scrubs and surgical masks and they dressed into them.
They wheeled Will out and got to the elevator when a young-looking doctor stopped them. "Hey!" He yelled. "Where are you going?"
"Prep for surgery," Gibson said quickly.
The doctor looked dubious. "I thought he was done with treatments."
"Hey I just take orders. You should talk to Filmore," Gibson jerked his thumb back. The elevator dinged and Madeline pushed Will in. She silently urged Gibson to hurry.
"Filmore ordered this?"
"That's what I heard," Gibson said.
"Then take him down," the doctor said. Gibson nodded and got onto the elevator, he stopped the doors from closing he turned to Madeline. "Get the car and meet us in the underground parking lot."
Madeline nodded and got off. Without running and drawing attention to herself, she got to the next elevator alcove. She took it up and once outside she ran for the car. She jumped in and started the ignition and squealed out of the parking lot and around the building where the underground parking lot was. There was no guard at the booth and she had another gut feeling that all this seemed so much simpler than it should be. She drove in and Gibson was just coming out of the elevator. She set the emergency brake and ran around to help Gibson get Will into the back seat. Then they got in and took off.
In the building, Bridget walked into Will's empty room and came across Shaker standing there. "He's gone," she said.
"I know."
"You're just letting this happen?"
Shaker turned to her. "Yeah, I am."
"Why?"
"He needs to realize what he is."
"You don't care about him," Bridget accused.
"And you care about him a little too much, I think," he said maliciously. His face softened, "Beside, this way he'll lead us to the rest of them."
Bridget looked back to Will's empty bed, her face troubled.
Eric Hosteen Residence
Two Grey Hills, NM
4:23 pm
Gibson gazed at Will from his seat at the end of the couch Will was lying on. Gibson toyed with his goatee thoughtfully, his brows knit in thought. Madeline was on the phone calling John and Monica.
"We got him…" she said. "Get Roe and meet us in New Mexico… We'll explain it all when you get here… Yes he's safe. Okay… see you." She hung up.
She looked over at Will and at her father meditating over him. "How is he?"
"His spirit is strong," Eric replied. "But his body is sick."
"Can we heal him?" She asked.
Eric looked over at Gibson. They shared an uncomfortable, but knowing look.
Gibson spoke first. "Madeline, I think Will's dying."
The words hit Madeline like a sledgehammer. "What?"
"Whatever they were doing to him, it was killing him, but it was keeping him alive," he explained. "I don't know what we can do."
Madeline shook her head. "I don't accept that," she said. She went to the bags her and Gibson had brought and rummaged through one of them. She found what she was looking for and held it up.
"What are you doing?" Eric asked.
Madeline turned on Will's PDA. The screen greeted her with "Hello William". She looked at her dad then at Will. "Saving him, I hope."
Two Grey Hills, NM
7:56 pm
"Madeline?" Will groaned. The past few hours he had been shivering and shaking. He felt feverish and sick, like the time he caught pneumonia and had a fever of 105 degrees that made him delirious.
Eric Hosteen wheeled over to Will who was lying on his couch. He pressed his hand over Will's forehead. "Don't talk."
Will opened his eyes, unable to focus, he searched the ceiling above him. "Eric?" What happened? Where's Madeline?"
"She went to get help," Eric told him. "You need to lie back and rest."
"No," Will pushed the blanket on him off and got to him feet. He was dizzy for a moment, but it passed, and he was okay. In fact, he felt better than okay.
Gibson walked into the room and saw Will standing. "Will…"
"Where did she go?" Will asked him.
Gibson probed Will's mind and found that Will was trying to read his. "Warehouse in Roswell." Gibson answered telepathically.
For a moment Will looked startled from Gibson speaking to him in his mind, but then he nodded and left, grabbing Gibson's gun on the way out.
Outside Roswell, NM
5:09 am
The sun hadn't yet risen and Madeline was waiting out in the desert. She could see the small town of Roswell just a few miles to her right. She shivered in the cool, before dawn air and yawned. It had been more than 24 hours since she had gotten any sleep and exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her. Still, she waited there, in front of an abandoned aircraft hanger and warehouse, waiting for the woman who had betrayed Will to arrive.
Ten minutes later, just as the sun began to rise, a car pulled up, it stopped and Bridget stepped out.
"You're late," Madeline said.
Bridget gave her a haughty look. "I believe I said, six am."
Madeline glanced around her. "You came alone."
"As instructed," Bridget said. "Let's go inside." They entered the warehouse, Bridget ahead of her as a sign of good faith. Before Bridget could speak Madeline did.
"Will's dying," Madeline said flatly.
Pain flashed in Bridget's light eyes, "I know."
"How do I save him?"
"You can't."
"Then how…" Madeline trailed off, a lump grew in her throat.
"His cells are mutating. Changing back into their true form," Bridget explained. In a day or so, he'll be fine. But you have to leave the country now, before it's too late."
"Too late for what?"
"He's still in danger. From the men who want him."
Madeline tilted her head, "Why are you helping me?"
"I helped raise Will," Bridget said, her voice cracking a bit. "I watched him grow up. I knew what he was, what he is, but he grew up so beautifully, into such a wonderful person. I love him."
As soon as the last words left Bridget's mouth a loud crack rang out like a car backfiring. It was only when Madeline saw the blood blossoming beneath Bridget's shirt she understood that Bridget had been shot. She whirled around and saw Shaker standing there, holding a smoking gun.
Near the Four Corners
Apache County, AZ
"Hey Art, get up!" John slammed open the door.
"What the hell?" Roe jumped up. He looked outside and it was still dark. He saw John and Monica standing there. "When'd you guys get back?"
"Just now," Monica replied.
"Did Madeline find Will?" Roe asked.
"Yeah, we're meeting them, c'mon," John said.
"Is he alive?"
"Yeah, let's go."
"Did they finish the treatments?" Roe asked and suddenly realized his mistake.
Monica and John looked at him. How would he know about that?
"Art," John started slowly. "Did you know where Will was?"
Roe looked away, hurt in his eyes. "Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Monica asked. Roe didn't look at either of them, he was guilty.
John shook with rage. "You fu …" John didn't get to finish his sentence.
Roe took out his gun from behind his back and aimed it at the weaponless couple. "I'm sorry."
Warehouse in Roswell, NM
5:24 am
Madeline stood staring down the barrel of Shaker's gun. She hadn't really meant to think of something to trivial at the moment, but she couldn't help noticing that while so much had changed over the years, guns hadn't. Shaker had the gun aimed at her stomach, if he so chose to shoot her, her death would be agonizing and a long fifteen minutes. Madeline identified that Shaker was the type of man that did not dispense out mercy. Madeline couldn't reach for her gun, though she desperately wanted to. She looked around, surprised to see that Bridget was gone, and left only a small pool of blood.
"Don't think about doing anything stupid," Shaker said to her.
It's too late for that, Madeline thought. "What do you want?"
"You know you are pretty clever, getting Will out of the facility so easily."
"Actually, I thought it was a little too easy," Madeline retorted.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm still trying to figure out how you found him in the first place," he said. "Oh well, just another fun piece to this jigsaw. Now, where is he?"
"I don't know."
"I wouldn't lie to me, girl," he wiggled his gun in his hand. "I'm the one holding the gun. Tell me."
Madeline shrugged, "You're just gonna have to shoot me then, cuz I'm not telling you a damn thing."
Shaker's eyes twitched and he smirked. "I knew you'd say that." He beckoned and from behind him John and Monica stepped forward. Roe was behind them, wielding a gun. Shaker looked into Madeline's eyes. "If you don't value you life maybe you'll value theirs more."
"Don't say anything Madeline!" John shouted and Roe cuffed him upside the head.
Madeline glared death at Roe. "You bastard," she growled.
"Madeline, I'd reconsider what you said," Roe told her.
She looked back and forth between John and Monica then whispered. "I'm so sorry." They nodded, understanding what she had been forced into. She looked down at the ground. "He's in Arizona."
"She's lying," Roe said.
Shaker nods and Roe cocked his gun. "I'll ask once more," Shaker said, his voice steady and cool. "Where is he?"
Madeline looked up at Shaker. Her jaw set and her eyes hard. "Go to hell."
A new smirk passed over Shaker. "I will," he said and Roe squeezed the trigger. The last thing Madeline heard was the concussion of the gun.
To Be Continued in Part 3…
A/N: Sorry this one is so long but I couldn't find a really good place to leave off at. Plus, let me know if I screwed up, especially with the time and the timezones, I can never get them right. Thanks again for the encouragement, I'm glad people are liking this story. Believe it or not it's my first X-Files fanfic and I'm having a great time writing it. Update: Part Three is halfway finished and even I'm psyched rubs hands together devilishly Thanks again!