"I don't think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains."
–Anne Frank
Near Washington, D.C.
53 days after
He couldn't pick up his feet. From his knees to his toes, he felt as if the flesh and bone were molding together into a solid, leaden mass. A pitiful shuffle proved to be all that he could manage. His world still seemed foggy and not entirely real; everything had happened so quickly. He'd been imprisoned for a long time; he had no clue just how long, and for days he had not been allowed to move. Muscles and joints that had not received recent use were now, not surprisingly, refusing to cooperate just when the need for his agility had grown so dire.
Thinking in the present was terribly difficult, because the recent weeks or months were full of time ellipses and gaping holes. Mulder remembered standing beside the creek with Skinner and wondering how he was going to prove to Scully that the man was who he claimed to be. Only seconds later it seemed, he had been transported to this bizarre hospital with no clear recollection as to how he'd arrived. Then, of course, there were the tests. Days and days of tests. And pain. And fear. And helplessness. Please be okay, Scully. Don't come after me. Please don't come after me. Abigail needs you. Our baby needs you. I'm sorry…I was wrong. You proved me wrong, Scully… not for the first time…but maybe the last. The words had repeated as a mantra in his brain for days. Sometimes he'd spoken his chant aloud; but more often he'd simply talked to her, pretending she could hear:
"Hey Scully, which did you despise more: Caddy Shack or Monty Python?... What was the exact moment that you were sure you loved me?... I knew you were my friend when I first told you about Samantha, and you didn't roll your eyes or look at me like I was insane…I knew I loved you when they first tried to separate us, and I remembered what it was to be alone…I knew I couldn't live without you when They took you away from me…I knew I believed in God when we kissed, holding between us this tiny person that we created…You know, it's funny—here I am witnessing this Truth I searched a lifetime for, but now I finally realize that I knew it all along…"
"Mulder, we have to move faster! I can't drag you much farther!"
The jumbled mess of thoughts running circles in his head settled somewhat as he was jerked back into the present. He could only assume and hope that this man could be trusted. He helped get me out of it…and I've got nothing to lose. Mulder gritted his teeth through the pain and stiffness and quickened his pace as much as he was able. The voices were even closer, louder than before.
"In here! There's some kind of storage space behind this door. Hurry and get in! We'll wait for Them to pass," the man said urgently.
Mulder ducked below the short doorframe and hurried to crouch behind a shelving unit. The man knelt in front of him, eyes glued on the closed door. Their ragged breathing seemed frightfully loud in the newfound silence. Running footsteps faded away, but Mulder sucked in his breath when he heard the voices again; a group of Them were gathered just outside the door.
"Another is missing! The P-216 post was abandoned briefly—there should not have been time…"
"The unbeliever must have freed him; he could not have escaped otherwise."
"Yes. Now the hunt is for two. Inform the others."
"Let us make for the gates."
"But the unbelievers could not have reached the outside."
"We must take precautions. Follow me!"
When the footsteps echoed down the hallway and the sounds of voices dissipated, both men released small sighs of relief.
"Let's wait a little longer to make sure They get a good head start," the man whispered.
"How did you know my name?" Mulder asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
The man turned around, flipping his long, dark hair out of his soft, green eyes.
Something seemed vaguely familiar about those eyes, but Mulder couldn't place the memory.
"It really is amazing what a growth spurt, a voice change, a few years without a haircut, and contact lenses can do for you," the man replied with a thin, sad smile.
"What? Wait a minute…No."
"No?"
"You can't be…"
"Wanna play chess? I'd kick your ass."
"Gibson…"
"Why did you go south, Mulder? It caused such an unnecessary hassle."
"Oh my God…Gibson. It's really you?"
"Yep. I escaped before They changed me."
Mulder felt his eyes sting with tears as he reached out to embrace his old friend. After They had first arrived, he'd thought the worst: assumed that Gibson was either dead or unaccounted for, just like the rest. I should've known better.
"Apparently I've missed a lot in ten years. It was obvious that you and Scully were going to get married, but what's this about a daughter?"
"Her name's Abigail. She's eight."
"Wow..." Gibson laughed softly, "We'll have to postpone our reunion; it's time to move again."
"Yes, you're right. Let's get the hell out of this place."
"Well, we can't leave quite yet. There's someone here we have to find first."
"Who?"
"William…Your son."
--
Somewhere in Virginia
57 days after
The heavy silence frightened her. She'd expected enough sound outside to at least cover her own footsteps, but the dead world around her offered no scamper of living creatures, nor even a brush of wind. Shivers traveled up her spine, and her nerves were on edge as she waited for something to jump from the shadows and pounce on her. Maybe if there were some light, she would feel somewhat more at ease. Of course, moon and starlight would leave her completely exposed, so she welcomed the shadows. The faint purple glow, still miles ahead, served as the only beacon in the darkness.
Even though she was gaining significant distance from the factory, she could still feel Isaac's eyes boring into her back as he undoubtedly stared out the tiny window in the northern wing. She knew that he would not be sleeping tonight, and just before sunrise, he would be inside the gate, waiting. What if I don't get there in time? I could just turn back…No. He'll never give me this chance again. I'm not coming back until I find him, no matter how long it takes. Let Them find me. Let Them kill me. It doesn't really matter anymore. I just want a few minutes. Maybe I could get him out…if he's even there. I'm doing this for us, Mulder. I can't save humankind. I can't change what's been done. But I can fight for us. For you and me.
She felt as though she grewfive feet taller, and she began to move faster, not allowing the sounds of her footsteps and breathing to frighten her. Fuck the dark. Fuck the quiet. Fuck the aliens. Traveling on the open plain, weaponless and defenseless, Dana felt more powerful than she had in a long time.
--
Near Washington, D.C.
53 days after
Mulder's heart pounded rapidly, his pulse thudding in his ears, and for several seconds, he stared blankly at Gibson, afraid to believe.
"We have to move now while we still can," Gibson whispered.
"He's here? William is here?" Mulder murmured.
"Yes. We shared a cell. I don't know what They've done with him."
"But how can you know that…it's him?"
"He has special sensory perception, he'll be twelve in May, he was given up by a mother who wanted him to be safe…but more than that, you just have to look at him. Come on."
Somehow, Mulder hauled himself to his feet and followed Gibson into the empty corridor. As he ran, he felt as though he were traveling through water. Time seemed to slow down, and for a moment, he honestly thought that he might be dreaming. After eleven years, he had come to accept that he would never see his son again. The loss left an empty space in his heart. Leaving them for that year was his greatest regret. So many nights, Mulder had lain awake, wondering if he could've done something…The one year he was ours, I wasn't even there…
--------
"Mulder, listen to me…There's something you need to know. Scully…this is really hard. I want you to know before she tells you, so you can be prepared."
"What?...Did—did something happen to William?"
"No, the baby's fine, but you know about the danger he's been in. Scully wanted him to have the chance at a normal life…She didn't think the two of you could ever give him that, so she gave him up for adoption. It was done out of love."
"…Um, his new parents…they can give him a normal life? Love him? Keep him safe? Make sure he goes to a good school?"
"Yes."
"Will they tell him about us? Scully and me?"
"I don't know."
"But I want him to know. When I'm dead and gone, I want him to know that his father loved him…that he was a gift. If I write him a letter, will you give it to…his parents?
"Mulder, I don't know who or where they are. Neither does Scully. If none of us know, then the people who have tried to hurt him won't know either."
"But there's so much…so many things I want him to have…so much he needs to know."
--
"You have no idea how much has already been lost…What I've had to do…"
"I do know. Skinner told me."
"Our son, Mulder…I gave him up. Our son. I was so afraid you could never forgive me."
"I know you had no choice. I just missed both of you so much."
--------
His belief that Scully had made the right decision consoled him; forcing their child to live in dangerous chaos would have been selfish. She gave her son the greatest gift a mother could—safety, normalcy, and anonymity. Mulder had come to terms with that; he knew William was loved by someone, and the thought brought some closure. But now—the thought of seeing him again…
"This way!" Gibson called out softly, beckoning for Mulder to follow him down another passageway.
"Where are we going?"
"To get William."
"Yes—but you said that you don't know where he is."
"I do somehow."
"What?"
"I don't know exactly where, but I know it's this way. I have a feeling."
"Okay, I guess a feeling's better than searching randomly."
The alarm continued to blare overhead, but fortunately, They seemed to have all fled to the outside and center areas of the dome; and Mulder and Gibson were on an outer edge. The corridor they were traveling through was completely clear. At the end of the long hall, Gibson paused at a set of double doors.
"He's in here," Gibson declared as he pushed through the doors without hesitation.
"Wait! Be careful—we don't know if any of Them are in there."
"No, They're not," Gibson called back over his shoulder.
The large, vaulted, high-ceilinged chamber was filled with at least twenty rows of what appeared to be identical, adult-sized incubators. As Mulder peered beneath the glass of the first few near the door, he saw the pleasant faces of sleeping children with IV's in their arms attached to small bags filled with a purple liquid. A set of six initials were engraved on a metal bar above each child's right foot. Gibson strode ahead toward the center row.
"Mulder! Here!"
He bolted, ran as fast as he could, and yet time seemed to slow again. The closer he came to arriving where Gibson stood, the further away it felt. His legs turned to jelly, and his heart rate sped up. And then he was there. And he saw.
"It's him…" Mulder choked breathlessly. He brushed his shaking fingers over the engraved letters. DKS-FWM. "My son."
Auburn hair—Scully's hair—fell across the boy's forward. His cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles, and his nose and jaw were defined and angular, just like his father's. The need to touch him, to hold him, to make sure that he was real, overcame Mulder. He clawed at the incubator frantically and tried to smash the glass with his fist.
"Mulder, stop! There's a lever in the back…I've got it!"
The lid on the glass case split down the middle, and with a swish, both halves retracted into the sides of the gurney. Mulder hurriedly reached for the needle in William's arm and carefully pulled it out of the vein. His touch lingered there, smoothing his fingers over the pale skin of the boy's forearm; and with his other hand, he gently brushed strands of hair out of his son's sleeping face. Mulder jumped and quickly stepped back when William suddenly began to stir. The boy wrinkled his forehead and blinked his eyes open with difficulty. Mulder gazed, mesmerized, into those pure hazel eyes that were the exact match of his own.
"I hate Them. I'll never be one of Them. I just want to go home," William mumbled as his eyes fluttered closed again.
Mulder checked the boy's pulse and breathing, which were both normal, before delicately scooping him up into his arms. William's head rested gently against his father's shoulder.
"We're going home," Mulder murmured.
"What are They doing to these kids?" Gibson muttered.
"These children have been monitored their whole lives. It's the reason William was always in danger when he was a baby. They wanted him, because he's special. I don't know how They managed to find him again."
"Let's go."
--
The powerful sensation returned immediately. Gibson instinctively knew which passageways to take and exactly where to turn in order to avoid Them. A clear picture of the next corridor formed in his mind before he arrived to see it with his eyes. Mulder obviously trusted him, and followed closely behind with William in his arms. They're coming. Gibson saw in his mind two figures, hooded and cloaked, walking side by side down a dark hallway. They know where we are. They think they're going to kill us soon. Kill us and keep the boy.
"Mulder!" he whispered harshly, "Keep following this way, then take a left at the dead end, and there will be open doors leading outside. I'm going to go right."
"Why?"
"Something's happened to me. They partially altered my genetics, even though technically, I'm still me. I can sense that They're close—the most powerful ones. Two Lords. And They know I'm close. I have to face Them. I can't run forever."
"No! I'm not leaving you!"
"I'll meet you outside. Trust me; I'll be able to find you."
"We should go together."
"No, Mulder, They'll track me. Please just go."
Mulder sighed heavily and nodded. Gibson stood and watched him disappear in the opposite direction toward escape. Heavy, booted footsteps approached from the right, and Gibson whirled around and strode assuredly toward the sound. Two shadowed figures seemed to materialize out of nowhere at the end of the passageway. The glittering black fabric of Their hoods fell back to reveal dark, hollow eyes and deathly grey skin. Gibson stood frozen, holding Their stare, and soon his head began to ache intensely from a dull throbbing to a piercing pain. He crumpled to the floor, hands pressed against his temples. I can't beat Them. I can't. This is the end.
"Gibson, what are you doing?" a woman's voice echoed.
"I can't—I thought I could win. But we can't win."
"No. If we're brave, we can't lose. You have to believe that. You made me believe. Get up and fight, Gibson."
He saw her face behind his closed eyelids as she spoke. Blue eyes glared at him.
"Who are you?" he mumbled.
"You know. Get up."
Through the unbearable pain, Gibson slowly rose on shaky legs. He lowered his hands from his head and opened his eyes.
"I will fight you until the day I die," he hissed.
He thought he heard the figures laughing hysterically, though Their mouths did not move. A bright light emanated from Their skin as They each drew a long, thin, sword from sheaths at Their hips.
What happened next, Gibson would only remember as a blur. He dove forward, and in one fluid motion with incredible strength, snapped both of Their necks. He winced as a piercing shriek tore through the corridor when the lifeless figures collapsed to the floor. The light remained, hovering over the bodies in an empty cloud. Gibson's pain ceased instantly, and he turned and ran with the hideous, disembodied scream following close behind.
--
Somewhere in Virginia
57 days after
She knew it had been hours; a small twinge of light appeared in the eastern sky. Isaac would be anticipating her return very soon. The journey had seemed so easy at first, but now with a heavy heart, she realized that the purple light was much further away than she'd originally thought. The dome was only slightly larger than it had first appeared. She'd vowed to continue, no matter how long it took, but it would be at least another full day of traveling before she reached her destination. Isaac and his people would surely find her by then. Dana stopped walking and glanced back at the dim lights of the factory, now miles away in the distance. I will not cry. I will not go back. She whirled around to face her goal and started running.
Only a few minutes had passed when she glimpsed three moving shadows ahead. It's Them. Oh God, it's Them. She stopped, breathing harshly, knowing that running was no longer any use. They had found her. With her arms crossed protectively around her middle, she began to slowly step backward, trembling. She heard voices, but couldn't make out the words. Abruptly, the tallest figure strode forward and began to run in her direction. Dana whipped around and dashed toward the factory, but she halted instantly when she head a voice call out.
"Scully?"
It's a dream. They're tricking me. It can't be real.
"Scully, is it really you?"
No, it is. It is him. It is. I know it.
"Mulder!" she screamed as tears flooded her vision.
Reality felt like a dream playing in slow motion as she hurtled in his direction until he became clearly visible. She was sobbing now, babbling incoherently, as she ran with her arms outstretched. Finally their bodies met in an electric crash, and he stumbled backward a few steps when she jumped into his arms. Hetwirled her around in circles, her feet flying off the ground. Sobs wracked his chest, and she felt wet tears streaking his face when she pressed her cheek against his. Neither of them could speak. They didn't need to. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar, musky scent. When she looked up at him, into his shining eyes, his warm lips firmly covered hers. The kiss seemed to last forever. She was home.