Bill Scully watched as Fox Mulder entered his sister's room. It was his sister's deathbed really. How could that imbecile even get the nerve to come here? Why can't he just stop tormenting Dana? Bill was able to see Mulder in his younger sister's room, sitting on her bed, holding her hand, and it sickened him. He had to get away; he had to blow off some steam.
"Fucking Fox Mulder and his fucking conspiracy theories," Bill muttered to himself as he walked steadily down the hallway, looking as if he could either break into a run or just rip an old lady out of her wheelchair. Bill was always a somewhat violent kid, but never cruel. With the recent events, he had begun to understand how a man could beat another human being to a pulp with a smile on his face.
Before long, Bill found himself in the Children's Hospital. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was going and he found himself stopped in front of an open door, peering in at a little boy who lay unconscious on the bed. The boy was as pale as snow and his breathing was steady. It was almost like passing a car wreck; Bill found that he couldn't take his eyes away from the little boy. The weak little boy with a feeding tube down his throat and IVs all over his arms turned Bill into a pensive state. That could be his kid in there. What would he do if his child was ever like that?
Bill found himself walking into the little boy's room and sitting in a chair placed in a corner. He stared at the boy, tears threatening to break through his tough and masculine exterior. Bill never cried, but there was something about this little boy that was bringing him to tears. He didn't understand it, but a tear slid down his cheek nonetheless.
"Sir?" Bill looked up to find a female nurse standing in the doorway and Bill quickly wiped his tear away and looked up at the nurse. "Sorry, Sir, but are you family?"
"Yeah, sorry, no, I'm not, so I'm going to be going now. I'm very sorry to disturb you." With that, Bill hastily got up and walked out of the door. He didn't understand why that little boy had affected him so deeply. There was just something about the kid's face that formed a lump in Bill's throat. Most people would say that it was the innocence, but somehow, Bill saw farther into it than that. He felt the little boy's pain and he felt the pain that the child's father must feel. He felt that agony seeping through him until he couldn't handle it anymore and salty tears had fallen out of his sad eyes.
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Thanks, the child with no name