LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER

GERMANY

TUESDAY, JULY 13th, 2010

0945

"They set multiple bombs targeting the hospital, the military base, and some of the Jeser bases they knew of. I was able to deactivate these bombs by redirecting energy from the locations they tried to brainwash me with, to the locations of the bombs."

"And how did you know the locations of these bombs?"

"The Bari Trasadi gave me that knowledge."

"That's the last thing Agent Mulder remembers, Sir."

"Is that true, Agent Mulder?"

"It's the last thing I remember until I woke up here."

Hager nodded his head, and said, "Well, then. Thank you for your testimony, Agent. I know you've probably given it ten times before. Thank you again for your service. Get some rest." The general signed off, leaving Mulder and Scully staring at Skinner's concerned face.

"You okay, Mulder?" Skinner asked.

"No," Mulder answered, and Scully gently smoothed her hand over his thigh. He was sitting up in bed now. His broken ribs were still painful but his energy level was high enough to drive his wish to get the 'administrative shit', as he called it, over with.

"You should get some rest," Mulder's boss told him, but his tone was caring and genuine, and he glanced at Scully on the screen.

She got the message, and nodded. Skinner knew the psychological effects from this event would get to anyone, and right now Scully was the only one around Mulder who would recognize a potential problem in that area. Mulder was well aware that there was a secret communication going on between his partner and his boss, but he didn't really care. He had just recounted every gory, gruesome detail of what was done to him. Thankfully, Skinner had the presence of mind to record it. Now he wouldn't have to do it again until he spoke to whatever psychologist the Bureau threw at him.

"Good night. I'm going back to sleep. Take care, both of you," Skinner said. He gave Mulder a quick smile, and then signed off.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," Scully said softly.

Mulder nodded, but promptly changed the subject. "Antoine and I are meeting up after physical therapy this afternoon. The doctors already okayed it. We're going outside to the courtyard for a walk."

Scully skeptically raised an eyebrow. "Did Bureau security okay this, too?"

"They want to come. We're fine with that."

Scully smiled, but was hesitant about the idea. She knew Antoine was in need of a 'project' to center himself around just as much as Mulder was in need of competition to take his mind off the physical and emotional pain. They had a symbiotic relationship, and Mulder acted as a mentor to the young soldier as much as Antoine acted as a coach to Mulder. But she worried that the nineteen-year-old would push Mulder to do something he wasn't ready for.

"Just don't be stupid, Mulder. Bring a walker."

"Why? Antoine uses a cane." Mulder's smart reply came, and Scully rolled her eyes. Typical Mulder, expertly evading every subject he didn't want to talk about.

This was the first day he'd wanted to discuss his ordeal since he arrived at the medical center. Scully didn't want to push him, so they had remained mostly silent about it. But the time had come today to give his official statement, and he hadn't practiced.

Scully spent the early morning with him, listening as he recounted the entire thing to a picture of General Hager that she had the front desk print off. She figured it would be more helpful to look at the picture while he practiced both because it was to Hager that he would be speaking on video, and because it meant he didn't have to look in her direction while he formulated what he would say.

As she watched him relate the details it was clear he felt guilty about his actions. He felt as though, even though his intentions were to save every wrongly-labeled "terrorist" from death-by-dust, he had instead failed them. He was able to save most of them by redirecting the energy from the Bari Trasadi to the bombs that the Indian military splinter group had set. He even managed to take out multiple terrorists in the process. But he hadn't saved every innocent. And he had risked Scully's life, directing the energy down upon the Indian hospital ruins where he was kept prisoner. Scully had been in the building at the time, looking for her partner with a team of Marines and Major Calhoun.

That was why he could barely look at her when talking about his experience. Despite her insistence that he did nothing wrong, he still felt like he had failed.

An instant of recognition flashed in his eyes, and he said, "Scully!"

She responded with an inquisitive look.

"There's one more thing we have to do…we have to talk to the State Department."

"Mulder, the military said they would—"

"No, no, this isn't administrative shit. Well, it is. But it's not related directly to the Bari Trasadi. I owe someone a favor."

"Okay…I'll get Major Calhoun on video and ask him who we should talk to."

"Perfect."

Fifteen minutes later, they were connected with a State Department official who gladly accepted Mulder's call. For some reason, it had been remarkably easy to get a hold of US officials in the past few days. "Agent Mulder," the man said, and pasted a smile on his face. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a favor. It's not going to be extraordinarily easy, but I owe a little boy a one-way ticket to the United States."

The man initially hesitated, but then looked away from the camera at someone Mulder and Scully couldn't see. He nodded, and then turned back to Mulder. "I think we can make that happen, Agent Mulder."

DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

WASHINGTON, DC

SUNDAY, JULY 18th, 2010

1538

Mulder was profiling again. Scully could tell, because he was silently scribbling away on yellow paper, his left hand writing significantly sloppier notes than normal. He had been at it for about an hour, completely ignoring the stares he was getting on the plane. In fact, when Scully leaned over and looked, she discovered that he had incorporated the stares into his profile.

When they landed and he clicked his pen closed, Scully asked, "Okay, so what's the verdict? Was it Colonel Mustard with the revolver in the Billiard's Room?"

He grinned. "Nope. But we're about to be famous."

She raised an eyebrow.

"We've been kind of out of the loop in Germany…busy for weeks, and not really watching the news. On purpose."

That much was true. They had avoided the news because neither one of them wanted to watch the talking heads proclaim the answers to the events overseas. They both knew the "experts" were as likely to guess that Flukeman was responsible as they were to guess the true nature of the Bari Trasadi. Not even General Himmat believed that Mulder had found the true Bari Trasadi and that it had been buried beyond recovery in the rubble of the collapsed hospital in India. For that reason, Scully hadn't bothered to expound upon the fact that they had recovered a laptop with alien script on it. She simply had it shipped back to DC, and planned to begin the language analysis as soon as she returned to work.

"Go on," Scully told him.

"Well, there have been several clues as to what's about to happen when we get off this plane. First," he said, rising with everyone else but wincing in pain almost immediately, and sitting back down. He held up his hand, stopping Scully from helping him. He took a moment, and then tried again. He was on the aisle seat in the front of the plane with plenty of room, but his ribs were still extremely sore, and it was difficult to get up with only one hand free.

His second attempt to rise was successful, and he continued. "First, Antoine already knew who we were before I ever even got to Physical Therapy."

"Did you end up getting his email address?" Scully asked, and Mulder nodded before he continued.

"Second, Antoine mentioned multiple news broadcasts and had intimate knowledge of the entire 'adventure'. Third," he started, pointing at his bag under the seat. Scully's face flashed with recognition and she immediately bent down to get it, clearly having forgotten about it. "Third," Mulder repeated, "we were able to get in touch with the State Department and get Alam into DC in record time. I've never seen a bureaucracy work so fast without a sex scandal being behind it."

Scully smirked.

"Finally, everyone on this plane has been staring at us since we boarded."

"I'm not convinced that this took you an hour to figure out," she said, and Mulder began moving forward. He couldn't walk quickly yet, but he was able to walk without assistance.

"It didn't. That was the initial conclusion. This profile," he patted the yellow notebook he had tucked in his sling, "is my justification to Skinner as to why I don't have to do the press conference."

"Press conference?"

"An inevitability of political game theory, Scully," he said. They were almost to the terminal. "All of this fame…it ties directly to the November elections. Everyone wants the photo-op with the crippled FBI agent."

Scully frowned at his choice of words. There was still no indication that the damage to his right arm was permanent. He was doing well in physical therapy, but the fact that he wasn't healing as quickly as he wanted to made him impatient and somewhat cynical.

They stepped into the terminal, and were completely shocked. They both guessed at the fuss the press was making, but neither one of them expected the crowd that met them. There had to be at least five hundred people standing in a roped-off section of the terminal, with American flags and "Welcome Home" signs, cameras flashing and cell phones clicking, and countless reporters with microphones hoping to catch a sound-bite or two. The crowd erupted into a roar of cheering and applause the moment they stepped past the threshold, and the FBI agents they were with escorted them through an already-secure aisle in the crowd.

Mulder spotted several people in the audience who were more subdued than the crowd waving their banners and flags. There were veterans there, some in full uniform and others just wearing a military hat or jacket, some sitting in wheelchairs and some with prosthetic limbs, some solemnly holding POW flags, and still others holding nothing in their hands, but nodding their silent approval as he walked past.

Mulder was wrought with emotion. On the one hand, he was touched that people, for once in his life, actually cared. He was getting recognition for something he had gone through. He had fought for justice, and somebody paid attention. On the other hand, he hadn't completed the job. Innocents still died. So he felt guilty, like he didn't belong there, like it was Scully who they should really be cheering and clapping for.

The crowd continued as they made their way past the terminals and into the general airport area. They were both astonished at the size of the crowd. As they continued to walk and saw that part of the larger hallway had been roped off to accommodate onlookers, Mulder reasoned that there had to have been at least 2,000 people who had come to see him get off of a plane. Perhaps there was more to it than the November elections, after all…

Standing on the escalator on the way down to Baggage Claim, Mulder expected there to be no other surprises. That was why he nearly stopped walking when he was met with the sight of little eight-year-old Alam from Pakistan standing with two FBI agents, nearly jumping up and down in excitement. It was clear he wanted to run over to Mulder, but an agent's firm but gentle hand on his shoulder held him back.

"Agent Mulder!" the boy yelled with a slight accent. "Agent Mulder! Over here!"

Mulder's shocked smile grew into a wide beam as he made his way, slowly but surely, over to Alam and his small contingent of guards. There were a few more adults in civilian clothing, and one woman knelt down and put her hand on Alam's shoulder, seemingly explaining something to him. He nodded, serious for a moment, and then turned back to Mulder who had finally reached his location.

He threw his arms around Mulder's waist, burying his head in Mulder's stomach and beginning to cry. Mulder was a little surprised at Alam's greeting. He had spoken to the boy for about ten minutes in Pakistan, and managed to take advantage of his fifteen minutes of fame to get the orphaned kid out of a dangerous situation, but he literally hadn't seen him or spoken to him since their initial conversation.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Agent Mulder," Alam said softly, almost too quiet to hear.

Mulder winced as he patted Alam's back. The boy had his head almost exactly where one of his ribs was broken. "I'm gonna keep an eye on you, Alam. I'll make sure they find you a good home here, where you can grow up safe, okay?"

Alam pulled away and said, "I want to search for answers like you. I want to be an FBI Agent and find answers to questions and help people."

Mulder smiled. "One step at a time."

"When I'm older, I'll help so many people that they bring an entire town to the plane to see me, just as they did for you," Alam continued as if Mulder hadn't spoken, and indicated the dwindling crowd at the top of the escalator.

Mulder and Scully realized that the amount of people Alam had seen in this airport were probably more numerous than anything the boy had ever seen before. The technology that he was seeing, as well, was probably more impressive than anything he had dreamed of. Conveyer belts, escalators, elevators, planes, and even air conditioning were all things that his poor village didn't have. As soon as he had arrived in America, someone had given him new clothes that fit him well, but he had kept the lime-green Crocs that he had received from a charity shipment back in his village.

For this small boy, Mulder thought, the past few days had been completely transformative and he had only his shoes as a remnant of his old life. In the boy's mind, probably from watching the television and hearing the FBI agents and social workers talk, this 180 degree turn his life had taken was all thanks to Mulder. It was easy to see why Alam thought of Mulder as his hero despite having only spoken to him for a few moments.

Mulder placed his hand on the bright eight-year-old's shoulder and said, "You're free now. You and the other children who were in danger have been brought to this place under something called 'political asylum'—that means that the United States decided that your old home was too dangerous for you to stay, and were willing to give you permission to come here and stay instead." When Alam nodded his comprehension, Mulder continued. "You've got a really amazing opportunity. You can grow up and do all of those things now. All you need is to want to do them."

Alam nodded again, and Mulder smiled. He hoped he had said the right thing to the little boy. If not, he reasoned, there would be plenty more opportunities to see him again. He was keeping a close eye on this one—there was something about the child that struck Mulder as particularly special.

He patted Alam's shoulder one more time, and then started to walk with the FBI agents and Scully to the car's location just past the Hertz rental counter.

But before he could go, little Alam called out, "Agent Mulder! Allah watched over you! You came home!"

Mulder stopped for just a moment, turned back, and gave the boy a smile and a nod before he continued. Scully slipped her hand into his, and they left the airport and got into the car to drive to their townhouse.