CHAPTER 6

St. Paul, OR
7:32 AM PST

There was much research to be done on one William Van De Kamp by Mulder and Scully, though both agreed that whatever they sought should be kept far from everyone, even their most trusted allies. At this point, with the chaotic events surrounding William, they didn't want to draw any more attention to him, especially since he was now a fugitive.

Neither voiced their opinions on William's guilt after Scully caught up on the "facts" of the story, as presented by the news. Mulder was too afraid to press any issues, because he knew all Scully could think about was seeing her "baby" again.

However, Scully silently feared that seeing William - should it truly prove to be him - as an adult would be difficult, perhaps even too difficult. She was continuing to realize that not only would she have missed out on William's early childhood, but his teenage years and even his college years. It was increasingly hard for her to think about - her baby was possibly now a man, a man that might have killed someone just days before.

Mulder, on the other hand, was more concerned with the logistics of William's triumphant return, trying to figure out how to hide a person drawing increasing national attention in a town with less than 400 residents. Perhaps his picking a home in small town America wasn't the best choice in this case.

"Did you get anything yet?" Scully asked quietly, sipping her coffee. Mulder shook his head, grumbling at the computer screen in front of him.

"It's not like the old days, Scully," he replied with a frown. "All we've got is Google and a few old databases that we might be able to break into."

"Hmm." Scully's eyebrow began to arch. "What about Cara English?"

"All that keeps coming up are news articles."

"No social media accounts?"

"What, you think they're Tweeting right now?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "I think that any of those accounts would help us to establish connections, which might help us to narrow down a location."

"Scully," Mulder said, a train of thought barreling through his mind, "William said he was going to find us, right?"

"Yes," Scully replied hesitantly.

"Why?"

Scully shrugged. "I don't know," she said softly.

"Who would've told him about us?" Mulder continued.

The question made Scully pause. "Skinner?" she suggested.

"Skinner retired after my exoneration. Last I heard he was in Bermuda."

"That leaves-"

"Doggett and Reyes."

Scully shook her head. "Mulder, how would William even know who they were? I mean, who would tell him?"

"Maybe no one did," Mulder replied softly. "Maybe his desire for the truth is driving him."

"You mean … He's psychically locating us?" Scully tried to remain open to the possibility, but was having a hard time given how she last remembered William as being incapable of such things.

"Maybe," was Mulder's quick response, grabbing for his cell phone and locating a contact to call. Scully swallowed, anticipating the conversation Mulder was about to have.

"The number's not in service," Mulder announced sadly, hanging up the phone. He threw down the phone on the desk in anger, wanting answers more than he remembered wanting in a long time. He slowly came out of his own thoughts when he realized Scully hadn't said a word to try to comfort him. "Scully?" he asked, seeing the way her forehead creased as she looked at him with worry.

"Mulder …" she breathed softly, her eyes glassy, "... you're in danger."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"The prophecy, Mulder!" Scully's voice was impatient. "William is controlled by both darkness and light. If you live, he serves the light with you. If you die …"

"... he joins them," Mulder murmured.

"They will use you as bait," Scully continued.

"Scully," Mulder took a deep breath, "we don't even know if that whack-job's prophecy is true."

"What if it is, Mulder?" Scully argued. "They will find you and-"

"No one will find us," Mulder said softly.

"Please. We use the internet. We use cell phones. They know exactly where we are."

"Yes, they do," Mulder said softly. "But they are still hiding, still operating under the guise of government."

"So what, they will wait until December? I doubt it."

"It means that they can play their games, but-" Mulder took Scully's hands in his, "-we have an advantage, Dana."

"And what's that?" Scully said, her eyes glassy with tears.

"I'm a pain in the ass to kill."

Morris, IL
9:32 AM CST

Thankfully, Cara managed to make it in and out of the local Walmart with relative ease. She attributed it to her swift shopping and lack of personality as she checked out, the attendant looking more interested in scrolling through Facebook than in checking out customers. She was back on the road after only spending 15 minutes in the store, carefully calculating how much food, water and a prepaid cell phone would set their cash that they had gotten from Doggett and Monica back. They just filled up the tank of gas the night before; she figured the 12 gallons of gas should last them approximately 335 miles in her economic four-door car - far enough away for no one to know who they were, their story not reaching local news outlets until after they departed.

As Cara absentmindedly wondered why they still weren't facing the issues she predicted would happen immediately, such as phone calls and being chased down by feds and police, she fumbled with her room key, opening the door and closing it behind her, turning the deadbolt securely. She instantly froze as she heard a familiar sound of water running in the shower just steps away from her in the partially opened bathroom. She had taken her shower that morning and knew she closed the door. It doesn't even matter, she chided herself, clearly there is someone in my shower!

Feeling naked without her gun, Cara quietly pulled out the next best thing she had, flipping open the blade of her pocket knife. With a deep breath, she pressed herself up against the outside wall as she heard the water stop running, the curtain opening. If it's that creep from the office, I swear I will castrate him.

Taking a moment to psych herself up, she charged the door, knife gripped tightly in hand, pinning the half naked man up against the sink, his face pushed down inside of it. "Don't move," she warned, seeing whoever it was was merely wearing a towel on their lower half.

Faster than she knew how, the man gained the advantage on her, stunning her into silence as he turned her own knife against her, pressing it up against her throat as he slammed her into the wall behind them. Cara panted, now locking eyes with her assailant.

"Cara?"

"Will?" Cara pushed Will off of her, angry. "What the hell are you doing in my shower?"

"What the hell happened to your hair?" he asked, his voice just as angry at the surprise.

Cara reached up to touch her head, a moment later realizing why Will felt off guard. "I … I colored it this morning before I went out," she murmured. "Monica gave it to me. I thought it was best to divert attention."

Still in very close proximity with one another, Will's eyes shifted to Cara's now chocolate brown hair, following the length of the waves down to her supple curve of her breasts. Clearing his throat, he looked back into her eyes, seeing the beautiful shade of blue pop with her new hair hue. He was mesmerized, and he couldn't stop himself from staring. There was something unusually powerful in her changed appearance, but he didn't know why.

In the same moments of silence, Cara had been examining the damp version of William that was in front of her, realizing just how many of the myths about his body being god-like that had spread like wildfire in the academy were true. He was incredibly fit, his shoulders broad and arms muscular. She saw his firm chest rise and fall with his breath, her eyes skimming down to a toned six pack; her view was cut off below the navel by an unassuming white towel. His stomach's skin glistened with moisture from the shower, the faint trail of hair that drew a line across it wet.

"My hot water is broken," Will murmured, realizing he still held Cara's knife. He handed it back to her.

Cara nodded, taking the knife. "It's fine," she replied softly, stowing the knife in the back pocket of her jeans. She felt Will's gaze bore into her, and it scared her. She couldn't meet his eyes - she was far too embarassed at taking such a long look at him a moment before. She studied his shoulder for a moment, realizing she saw absolutely no wound evident from the bullet he received only two days earlier. "Will …" She carefully reached up to touch his shoulder, curiosity getting the better of her as her fingers gently pressed where her gun had assaulted him. She suppressed a quiver as she felt the skin where the scar should still be; it was warm and still damp from the shower.

When she finally met his eyes with her own, Will was still staring at her, his lips parted slightly. "Will, you …" Cara couldn't finished her sentence.

"I healed, Cara," he replied gently.

"In two days?"

Will paused a moment. "In two minutes after they took me away."

Cara shook her head. "Impossible."

"You, of all people, saying it's impossible?"

"Will, you said so yourself - you're not Superman."

"I'm not good like him," Will said softly, darkly. His statement made Cara's heart stop, wondering what he was implying.

"Yes you are," she whispered, still touching his shoulder. Yet, the way Will looked at her made her wonder otherwise. "Sorry, you should finish," she said quickly, withdrawing her hand and stepping out of the room, closing the door behind herself. She made her way to the bed and sat down on it, processing all that just happened in silence as she heard Will getting dressed in the bathroom. She busied herself with taking out the prepaid phone she purchased for Will, activating it according to the directions. When she heard the door open, she said commented without looking up at him, "I just activated your phone. It should be plenty of minutes to use in case of emergency."

As she handed Will his new cell phone, she glanced up, realizing he was still shirtless, wearing unbelted jeans as he towel-dried his hair. Damnit, Will! Put a fucking shirt on! she yelled in her mind. He took the phone from her gratefully, slipping it into his pocket and pulling a white tee shirt over his head, then a gray long sleeve thermal. "How did you get in?" Cara asked, trying to distract her mind from heading even deeper into the gutter.

"The much-too-friendly manager let me in," he replied, adjusting his belt without concern of Cara's presence. "I think he was just excited at the prospect of getting to smell your perfume again." Cara frowned. "No, he didn't come in. I made sure of that," Will added, seeing her discomfort.

"We need to get on the road," Cara stated, changing the subject as she opened up her suitcase, tucking a few things inside. "You ready?" she asked, still busy with her task. When he didn't respond, she looked up at him. "Will?" she said softly, unsure why he was dumbstruck like he was. She felt the intensity oozing out of him, his eyes seemingly fixed on her every move.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I'll grab my bag and meet you at the car."

With that, he left abruptly, the door closing behind him a little harder than she expected. When she was finally alone, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the steamy mental images of her partner that appeared. "Damnit," she said to herself, angrily picking up her bag and throwing open her door, glancing over her shoulder at the room to check for belongings. As she shut the door behind herself and reached inside her pocket for the car keys, she felt the small bottle nestled next to them. Inside her pocket, her fingertips traced the outline of the vial as she reflected back on the text messages from earlier that morning. She was still unsettled, remembering the urgency in the Englishman's voice, seeing the way he looked at her just before he pulled the trigger on himself. Why would someone die for a lie? she asked herself. Or did he really die for the truth?

She didn't know the answer, but she knew she only had mere hours to make a choice.

J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington DC
10:49 AM EST

"John, take a look at this," Monica said softly, not wanting to attract attention to either one of them. Since the closure of the X-Files, they both had tried to maintain a very low profile at the bureau, neither ever being assigned cases but rather grunt work for other agents.

With a quick glance around, Doggett took the file from Monica, scanning it swiftly. "This is the sample?" he asked. "'The sample was found to contain calcium, oxalates, polyphenols and phytates,'" he read. "What is all that?" he asked when he was finished.

"Those are all natural chemicals to combat iron absorption," Monica replied. "If William was being given magnetite in the hospital, then whoever that man was that Cara spoke to was right - William needs this."

"We need to get ahold of her," Doggett said softly, tucking the file into his brief case.

Monica nodded. "I'll text her right now." She felt her suit pocket where she usually placed her phone; her heart stopped as her fingers didn't detect the shape of the device there. She tore open her purse, digging through its contents in haste. "John, my phone is gone," she whispered.