"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 Three: "Restoration"
Warehouse in Roswell, NM
5:25 am
Madeline's world came to a standstill. The bullet traveling towards her at such a speed that she thought she could have plucked it out from the air. John and Monica were both locked in reaction expressions, eyes squeezed closed and cowering slightly. Shaker had a devil's smirk on his face while Roe looked almost apologetic, like he had made the worst mistake of his life. In that moment, where everything became so clear, Madeline dropped down to the floor as the world began revolving again.
The bullet zinged just above her as she hit the concrete floor. Madeline whipped out her own gun and shot at Shaker. He skirted away and she missed. He took out his own gun and began firing on Madeline.
"No!" Roe yelled and ran towards her, pushing her out of the way. Shaker's bullets caught him twice in the back. Madeline caught him heavily and they stumbled away behind a metal air duct.
Madeline pulled him up, rougher than she should have, against the duct. "Just be still," she told him roughly.
"I'm really sorry," he coughed out.
"Shut up," she snapped, not caring to hear his apologies.
Roe shook his head, "We should've told you the plan."
Madeline frowned, "What plan?"
Wincing, Roe pulled up his shirt to reveal a bullet-proof vest. Madeline checked his back and extracted two neatly flattened bullets. For a moment the complicated expression of relief and the urge to hit him came over her. She glared at him and bullets dinged the air vent they were hiding behind. Madeline checked how many bullets she had left in her gun then peeked around the vent.
John and Monica had ducked for cover just as soon as the shooting began. They shot at Shaker but he shot back and hit Monica in the leg. She screamed out in pain. Madeline heard Shaker's gun click empty and she took that opportunity to aim for him. She jumped out, gun drawn but he was gone.
She helped Roe up and they went over to John and Monica. John was pressing down on Monica's thigh, trying to slow the bleeding. "It's okay, hon," he told her. "It's not that bad." He looked up at Roe who was already calling ambulance services.
"We've got to get back to Will," Madeline said breathlessly.
Roe hung up and bent down to look at Monica's wound. "I'll take care of her," he said to John. He handed him his keys, "Take my car."
Monica nodded at her husband, "I'm okay, John."
John was reluctant for a moment then kissed his wife's forehead and ran outside with Madeline.
Bridget flinched when she heard the shooting, but didn't stop. The desert air was warmer now with the sun having risen and it burned in her lungs with every breath she took. Her hand was pressed against the wound in her stomach in an attempt to pause the bleeding. She got to her vehicle outside and rummaged in her jacket pocket for the keys. In her haste, she dropped them on the ground and when she stooped to pick them up a shadow fell over her.
She looked up and saw Will standing above her. "William?" She moved to stand up.
"Stay there," he ordered and Bridget took stock of the fact that he was holding a gun, aimed at her head.
"You're not going to kill me," she said, mustering all her confidence.
Will's face was unresponsive. "Are you so sure? You tried to kill me, all those tests, those treatments. I nearly died. Seems fair."
"No," she shook her head. "I'd never put you in any harm."
He laughed in disbelief. His bitter cackle was so unnerving Bridget felt the hairs on her neck rise. "Is that so?" He continued. "Ever since Pops died, since my father died, I've been in danger. Part of that is your fault."
"I had to protect you, William," she said, her voice verging on insistence. "No matter what."
"And my mother!" He cried, his emotions surging. The gun trembled in his tightened grip. "Was she in the way of your job? Did you kill her!"
Bridget was silent and Will knew the truth. His chin quivered and his eyes filled up with tears. "Why?" He asked, she didn't reply and he cocked the hammer back on the gun. "Dammit, tell me why!"
Bridget looked up at him, "What difference would it make, William? Would it make you feel better knowing that I, someone you love, killed your parents? No, it'd haunt you the rest of your life, and you wouldn't trust anyone again."
"Did you know what I was?"
"Yes."
Will stared at her, "What am I?"
"You're special," she replied.
"Don't say that. That's not an answer. Just tell me the truth."
"You are the truth."
"I'm sick of this cryptic bullshit," Will snarled. "Do you know where I can find my parents?"
"I don't, but we can find them together."
Will's face softened and he nodded. He helped her up and held her close. "All you've ever done is lie to me," he whispered in her ear.
Her eyes widened and she gasped as William plunged a shiny metal rod into the base of her neck. He let her slip away from his embrace and she fell to the desert floor, a greenish substance oozed out from her neck.
Madeline and John burst out of the building and saw Will standing over a body. They ran up to him and from the green fluid and metal rod protruding out of her neck, John did a double-take. Madeline paid little attention to the woman on the floor and went up to Will.
"Give me the gun," she demanded softly.
Will looked at her and handed her the gun he walked away a few paces into the surrounding desert, lurched forward and vomited. Madeline and John watched from their places. Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked back to Madeline and John.
"Where's everyone else?" He asked.
John's face was bleak, "Monica was shot. Arthur called for an ambulance, but we gotta get you outta here first."
Will shook his head a negative, "It's over for right now."
"Will, you have to leave the country, Bridget said…"
"Bridget's a liar," he snapped.
John and Madeline backed away. Neither had heard such harshness from him and they exchanged a surprised look.
"Listen," John said, eyeing the now stoical Will. "It's not safe for you. So you're going to have hole up somewhere till we can figure everything out."
Will began walking away towards the car. John pulled Madeline back and handed her Roe's car keys. "Go to the Roswell Motel and check into room 19. Art will try to divert any NPIB dogs sniffing at your tails for the time being but you got to lay low until you hear from me."
"What about my dad and Gibson?"
"You dad'll be fine and Art is going to get Gibson as soon as things cool down."
Madeline nodded. Her eyes were filling fast with tears.
"Hey," John said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."
She nodded again and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her pullover. "Thanks. Let me know about Monica, please?"
He squeezed her shoulders in assurance and let her go. They both looked towards the faraway screeching of ambulance and police sirens. "Go," he told her and watched her walk away.
Roswell Motor Inn
June 6 7:39 pm
Madeline adjusted the thin towel around her bust, making sure it was in place. She wiped a clear spot on the mirror, foggy from her recent shower. She shook her hair out from the turban towel, her damp black hair spilled over her shoulders. For a moment she stared at her reflection in the sweating mirror. A wave of emotions swelled up inside her and she began to cry. The last few days finally took their toll. She sobbed silently, still conscious of Will right out side the hollow wood door.
Minutes passed and she was done. She ran the sink faucet, splashed cool water on her face to reduce her puffy eyes. She dressed quickly into a cheap souvenir T-shirt that was four sizes too big and hung past the hem of her shorts. Madeline ran a hand through her hair desperately regretting not nicking a comb. She gathered her old clothes and dumped them into a plastic grocery bag. She took one last check in the mirror and exited the bathroom.
Will was still sitting where she had left him, where he had been since they arrived, sitting rigidly on the bed facing the window even though Madeline had drawn the dusty curtains shut as soon as they got there. She bit her lip, afraid she was going to cry again. She had driven and he had said nothing while they were in the car, nothing at the dinky souvenir shop where they got shirts to change into and nothing when they checked into room 19 at the Roswell Motor Inn.
Madeline desperately wanted him to speak to her, to tell her what happened to him, how he knew where to find her in Roswell. The last time she had seen him was on her couch, shivering with fever and unconscious.
"Will?" She dared to break the silence in the room.
He made no movement, no effort to acknowledge her. The phone trilled, making her jump but Will remained motionless. She snatched up the intrusive phone and barked a hello into it.
"Madeline?" John's New Yorker rasp came back to her.
"Yes, sorry, the phone scared me," she said dumbly. "How's Monica?"
"She's fine, they have her in a room and want to keep her over night. We had to spin them a gun-cleaning accident that the doctors seemed to buy," he said. "How's Will?"
Madeline looked over at Will. "He's fine," she lied. "He's resting."
"Has…" John hesitated over the phone. "Has anything happened?"
"No," Madeline said truthfully. "Absolutely nothing has happened."
"Oh, okay, good. Well, Art went to get Gibson an hour ago and I'll have them go to you when they get here."
"Sounds good," Madeline said.
"Okay, bye."
"Bye," Madeline hung up. She looked back at Will and sighed. His catatonia, it seemed, was not going away any time soon. Madeline lied down on the bed, facing away from Will.
In mere seconds, Madeline was asleep. Will exhaled deeply and stood to stretch. He hadn't meant to play such a ruse with her, not talking and not moving, but he knew she needed to rest and so did he. He sat back on the bed and lied on his side, facing her, mimicking her semi-fetal position. In the near darkness, he traced the outline of her curves with his eyes. His last conscious thought before drifting into sleep was of her.
Shaker barged through an office door and slammed his fists down on a desk. The man in the dramatic desk chair did not turn around, but spoke in a deep, almost lulling voice.
"You failed."
"I was played," was Shaker's reply, "By your recruit."
The man shrugged, "Agent Roe's allegiance was always with Doggett."
"So you knew he was unpredictable?"
"Yes."
Shaker's temper flared. "Why wasn't I informed?"
"You are on a need to know basis, Shaker, I wasn't about to hinder our chances of getting the subject back. If you knew Agent Roe wasn't on our side then you would've killed him."
"I'm failing to see how…"
"Before," the man cut him off sharply, "John Doggett and Monica Reyes resurfaced."
"That's another thing," Shaker added. "If you knew Doggett and Reyes were still alive, why didn't you send me after them first?"
"Need to know, Shaker" the man replied. "Plus Mr. and Mrs. Linde would never have given up the location of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully to us. Neither would they have give up the location of Gibson Praise, who we suspect is the sole informant of that couple's whereabouts."
"They're still in Roswell," Shaker said. "I can get Will back."
"That time will come. My superiors, your bosses, think it's best for him to come into his reacquired abilities on his own. In time, he'll realize what he is." The man paused. "And Shaker? They believe you were right in your assumption that Bridget was too close to the subject. Had he not disposed of her, you would've been called to do so."
Shaker's eyebrows went up, "He killed her?"
"Yes, and he knew she was not human. Already he is learning."
Shaker nodded and left the office more perturbed then before. If Will was able to master his capabilities, discover his origins, and reunite with his birth parents, Shaker was afraid that his bosses would realize their mistake and be in over their heads. When that happened, Shaker knew his days would soon be over as well.
Roswell Motor Inn
11:17 am
Will awoke the next morning to Madeline's sleeping face. She had changed positions during the night and was facing him, but he hadn't. Will had fallen into a deep sleep and for the first time in days he felt back to his old self. As carefully as he could, he got up. He stretched his arms out in front of him and when he did so the curtains opened up and sunlight spilled into the room.
He frowned and took a step back. On the bed, Madeline stirred from the sudden warmth. Will quickly shut the curtains manually and turned around. Madeline stretched out on the bed like a cat waking from a nap. She opened her eyes and saw Will standing before her, she sat up.
"It's good to see you've moved," she told him.
Will smiled almost bashfully, "Yeah… I'm sorry about yesterday." He sat on the bed next to her. "It was… confusing," he finished.
"Well don't make a habit out of it," she told him. She stood up and went to the bathroom. Will heard the water running and Madeline came back out.
Will was staring off into space again and Madeline's face softened. She sat next to him on the bed. "What'd they do to you?" She asked gently.
Will was silent for a long while; he twisted his hands and popped his knuckles. Madeline gathered her knees to her chest and watched as he struggled to speak. "I don't know," he finally replied.
"Will, you were dying," Madeline told him. "I saw you and my dad and Gibson said you were."
"I know. I think I was. I saw things," he looked at her. "Things I never have, but I knew what they were."
"What kind of things?"
His deep blue eyes stared past her, searching for the right words. "People. People being experimented on, dying… There were men they were trying to change people. They changed me. I know that."
Madeline shook her head, "No. They didn't." She put her hand over his. "I don't know why they took you, but we're going to find out. And we're going to find your parents."
Will nodded, accepting her comfort. "I saw Albert."
"That's what you said."
"Albert called me something. A name."
"What was it?"
"White Buffalo."
Madeline's face twitched slightly. "Does that mean anything else to you?" She asked quietly.
Will thought for a minute. "My Pops…" He started. "He used to do wood carvings and when I was a baby my room was decorated with buffalo, painted white. Why?"
She spoke slowly, remembering the stories her father told her. "Eric found something, something the FBI man came to see. But then there was an accident. Albert and my father found him and he was dying. Albert performed the Blessing Way Chant over his spirit and he became strong again. The holy people saved his spirit. When the FBI man got better, a white buffalo calf was born in the north."
"I don't understand."
"Albert believed the white buffalo was an omen of great change," Madeline's voice had a faraway feel to it as if she was recalling a dream. "Later Albert prayed over the FBI woman's sister who had been shot. The buffalo calf's mother lied down and would not get up. The FBI woman's sister died, as did the mother buffalo."
"The FBI woman… My mother?"
Madeline's eyes focused again. She looked at Will and with a quiet sigh replied. "Yes."
Will was silent for a long while. "What does this mean for me?"
Dark brown eyes locked with deep blue eyes. "I think it means we're going to find out if there is such a thing as fate."
Roswell County Hospital
11:28 am
John walked into Monica's room with a cup of "that crap they call coffee" as he called it. Monica was sitting back in bed, restlessly tapping the bed rails. "Hey hon," he greeted her as cheerfully as he could muster. Seeing her in that bed, brought back memories he'd rather repress.
She looked up at him and smiled. "Hi."
"How you feeling?" He settled into the chair next to her bed.
"Like I've been shot," she replied, still smiling. "Did you get any sleep?"
"Yeah," he said. "Caught a few when you were asleep."
"Uh huh," she eyed him dubiously.
"I did," he persisted. "The doctor's gonna sign your release, so we'll be outta here in a few."
"Great," Monica said with relief. She cocked her head, "What is it?"
"I keep thinking about yesterday," John said.
"What about?"
John sighed thoughtfully. "The man in the building. I keep thinking I know him."
"Did you ask Arthur about him?"
John nodded, "He only knew the guy by Shaker. I didn't recognize the name but the face…" He shook his head, "I guess it's nothing."
"John, your instincts have never let either of us down," Monica told him, reaching over and placing her hand on his.
"The problem is, if it's who I think it is, it can't be."
"Why not?"
"Because he's dead."
Roswell Motor Inn
"I don't believe in fate," Will told her.
"I do," she replied.
"No," Will shook his head. "I believe you make your own destiny. You have choices."
"Of course, but how do you explain what's happened to you?"
"What? Discovering that I was adopted? Being sent on a wild goose hunt to find my biological parents?" He asked. "Or being kidnapped and tested on by doctors? Finding out that the person I trusted the most lied to me all my life and killed my parents?"
"Well, yeah," she said. "This a journey remember? One that we are supposed to take together."
"I know…"
"No you don't," she said with exasperation. "You don't really understand what I'm telling you. Your father came to my uncle to find something, to get answers. Just like you are. Fate has put us together."
Will swallowed. "Do you know what I am?"
Madeline didn't look at him. Her eyes were shiny with tears and she nodded.
His heart leapt. "What? Please Madeline…"
She only shook her head, not wanting, or not able to tell him.
Will let out a little scoff he hadn't meant to. Of all the people in this crazy ordeal, the last person he wanted to be jerked around by was Madeline. He didn't know how to tell her how grateful he was that she rescued him, that it had been her. Now, she was dangling a piece of information, the piece of information he wanted more than even finding his parents, in front of him and wasn't telling him.
Madeline didn't look at him as she quietly answered. "You're human," she said. She looked up at him, into his eyes with a tenderness he hadn't seen before. "That's all."
He held her gaze a moment longer then looked away. He laughed a little and to her surprise reached over and hugged her. "Thank you," he said.
Madeline hugged him back; her face pressed against his shoulder was unsettled.
He let go. "You wanna get something to eat?" He asked with a half smile to let her know everything was all right between them.
"I am hungry," Madeline confessed.
"Me too," Will agreed. "I'll clean up and then we'll
Madeline opened the door to Roe. "Hey," she looked around him. "Where's Gibson?"
"He's coming." Roe answered flatly while Madeline closed the door behind him.
"John said you went to get him," she pointed out. Roe simply stared at her and a growing apprehension prickled up her neck.
"Do you like Chinese?" Will called out as he exited the bathroom. He stopped when he saw the man standing in the doorway in front of Madeline. She turned around, her eyes signaling that something was wrong. A brief tremor coursed through Will's body. He felt it before: in the hospital room strapped on the bed when he looked in the shadows, at Madeline's home when he heard Gibson speak in his mind and outside the warehouse before he killed Bridget.
Gibson pulled the car into an empty parking spot in the lot of the Roswell Motor Inn. It had been a long drive and he was glad to stop. He spent the entire trip worried about Madeline and Will and seeing them would give him some relief until he had to confront Will about the mind-reading incident.
In the passenger's seat, Roe unbuckled his safety belt and opened the car door. He stretched his arms and legs which were sore from the long car trip and still ached from his recent wounds. Gibson got out of the car as well and shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans.
"What's the room number?" Roe asked.
"Nineteen," Gibson replied, nodding to the door he parked in front of.
The agent rolled his brown eyes. They walked up to the door and Gibson hesitated a moment. Roe looked over at him about to ask what the problem was when he heard a commotion from inside the room. Roe instinctively reached for his gun holstered on his hip.
"Wait!" Gibson cried, putting out his hand to stop Roe from busting the door down. Roe complied and then there was a shout, Will, Roe assumed, shouting at Madeline to move. Right before Madeline screamed Gibson gave a short nod and Roe kicked in the door, his gun drawn.
Arthur Roe took a whole second to register what he was seeing. He, or rather, his double, had Madeline in a strong hold. A hand clutched her neck below the jaw, forcing her head up in an unnatural manner and another gripped her arms together behind her back.
Will was standing not five feet away gawking at both Roes. And it was he who recovered first. "Let her go!" He shouted.
"What the hell is going on?" Roe asked on the border of hysterical, his head spinning from the situation.
"He's not human, shoot him!" Gibson hissed.
The Roe Double's head snapped towards Gibson. "Neither are you," he replied. "Drop the gun," he barked at Roe.
Roe shook his head. "I don't think so. Now just let her go and we'll talk."
The Double cocked his head to the side. Tears ran down Madeline's face, the Roe Double slowly applied pressure to her windpipe causing her to gasp and gag. "I'll snap her neck," he said.
Another vibration rushed through Will's body, every muscle and blood vessel tingled and he began to breathe hard. "No," he gritted his teeth. He reached a hand out towards the Roe Double and Madeline. They all heard pops and spine-shuddering cracks. The Roe Double bellowed in pain, his fingers were being pulled up by an invisible force away from the grip on Madeline's neck. He let her go and Madeline fell to the floor, panting for air. Gibson ran and slid to her.
Roe wasted no time into pumping two rounds into his double. He was pushed back by the force of the shots but didn't go down. He looked down at the bullet holes which began to seep green.
"What the…" Roe said and the man looked back up. He was no longer Roe but a taller, thicker man. He had blue eyes, pockmarked cheeks and a wide jaw. He looked like an ancient gladiator would have, big and intimidating. Roe took a step back as the man advanced on him.
The shape-shifter was suddenly hurled across the room and smashed through the wall to outside. Roe turned to Will, his crown eyes candid in amazement. Will's chilling resolve was gone, replaced by a somewhat bewildered look on his face. He wasn't looking at Roe, but at the big gaping hole in the plaster and brick wall of the motel room. He shook it off before Roe could think of anything to say.
"Come on," Will said to him and he scooped Madeline up in his arms. Gibson was outside in a flash and already had the car started before the rest got into the car. Gibson checked his rearview mirror and saw the shape-shifting man that had just been shot and launched through a wall begin to get up from the parking lot floor. He put the car in drive and slammed on the pedal, speeding from the motel.
Will checked Madeline over in the back seat. She reassured him hoarsely that she was all right even though bruises were beginning to form on her neck. Roe looked back at Will from the front seat.
"You are going to have to explain to me what happened in there," he said to Will.
Will had his attention on Madeline, who was slumped against the seat. "If I knew I would," he retorted scowling at Roe. Roe only glared darkly at the auburn-haired teen through the rearview mirror.
To Be Continued…