9:12 PM PST

Cara's eyes, normally a brilliant blue, but now lacking their usual sparkle, opened slowly, the heaviness of the lids almost making the simple task impossible. Through her half-hooded gaze, she tried to focus on what was around her as the drugs in her system began to wear off.

After a moment, she jerked her head up quickly, her heart racing as she scanned the room. Her head was still heavy from the sedatives, but all she heard in her mind was Will's name. "WILL!" she screamed, realizing at that moment she was bound to a metal table, unable to move anything below her neck and the tops of her shoulders. Her arms and legs were held tightly by four large bands at her sides. An overwhelming feeling of vulnerability overcame her, and she fought violently against her restraints. "WILL!" she screamed, hoping he wasn't in a similar circumstance as she.

From what she could tell, she was alone in a dimly lit room, a single lamp above her, blaring angry artificial light into her eyes. She glanced down to examine the restraints that were holding her, only to find she was merely clothed in her underwear. Her heart raced even faster, now starting to panic. She furiously pulled at the restraints, her breath heavy as she screamed. "HELP ME! WILL! HELP!" With each pull, it felt as if the straps were sinking tighter into her skin, and she cried out in pain as they cut her body as she pulled against them, hoping to escape.

Her body slowed as she realized her struggle was in vain, not having gained any obvious advantage with her fight. Her heart still pounded wildly, and she shut her eyes tight, trying all she knew at that moment to do.

A deep laughter made Cara's eyes open, her focus diminished as she tried to see who was approaching her. Hearing his voice made her realize it was the same man who had taken her. "What, did you forget he couldn't read your mind?" He laughed again. "Sleep well?" he asked, approaching the table. He finally appeared to her left side, and she glared at him, spitting in his face. The man's eyes narrowed in anger, and he slapped Cara harshly, her bottom lip cutting itself on her tooth in the process. She clamped her mouth tightly shut; she felt and tasted the blood running down her chin.

Turning his attention to her body, the man smiled at her various wounds from the restraints. "Trying to leave? So soon?" He looked back up into Cara's eyes. "But we haven't even begun the party yet."

"Where's Will?" Cara demanded.

"Where he needs to be."

"Where is he?!" The man didn't answer. Cara's breath quickened. "You don't know, do you?"

"Of course I do," the man growled.

"Then why the charades? Go get him!" Cara spat.

Cara winced as the man grabbed her hair, yanking her head back with force. "I'll deal with him soon enough. Right now, you're the guest of honor."

"Well, you'll have to kill me because I won't give you anything."

The man laughed again, shoving Cara's head back to the position it was originally in. "Oh, but you will."

"Never."

"Even if it costs his life?"

"You can't kill him," Cara sneered. "You would have already if you could."

Her brazen statement was rewarded with another even harsher slap. Her right eye slammed into the metal table she was strapped to upon impact; she felt the blood rushing to it as it began to swell. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," the man said, whispering in her left ear as he pressed her head against the table.

"Neither do you," Cara replied, her face being crushed into the table as she implied she would be more of a challenge than the man anticipated.

"Oh, I know plenty about you, Cara English," the man said, his finger tracing down her left cheek. "I know more about you than you do. In fact-" He paused, glancing down at her bra-clad chest. "-I probably know you better than William even does. And whatever I don't know … I will learn." The man smiled as he saw the anger building in Cara for his insinuation. He released her face, stepping away from her. She saw her phone in his hands, aimed at her for a photograph of her current state. She turned her face away, not wanting to give the man what he wanted - she knew the photo would be sent to Will to taunt him. The man became angry, yanking her head into position, slamming the other side of her face into the table with his force. "You're making this harder than it has to be," he growled, his face close to hers.

"I'm not a princess," she spat, "I'm a New Jersey cop. What did you expect?"

He glared at her and stepped back to take the photo. "Smile," he ordered with a sick grin.

The last thing Cara remembered after she spit in the man's direction was the cold metal against her head, the darkness of unconsciousness surrounding her.

Near Multnomah County, OR
9:59 PST

Rain. So much rain. Will had never driven through sheets of rain as he had that night, the little Toyota's wiper blades working furiously to keep the windshield clear enough for him to navigate the dark Interstate 205 at 90 miles per hour. Why did I steal a Yaris? he thought as he made the little car to go at its top speed, despite its meager four cylinder engine. It's not like he had a choice, really. It was either that, a broken down Mazda or a huge red truck that probably would have ran out of gas in a quarter of the time the Yaris would.

The stretch he drove was suppose to take about an hour and a half according to road signs, but he covered it in forty-five minutes, the little car performing at its limit. His mental GPS was clear as to where he had to go, and his destination - St. Paul - was only another another 40-some miles. His palms were sweaty as he realized just how close he actually was to not only his long lost parents, but to so many answers to the many questions he had.

Will's heart stopped when he saw the familiar flash of red and blue in his rearview mirror. "Shit!" he groaned, knowing he had been tempting fate far too long for him to actually arrive at his parents' house unnoticed. He couldn't get caught - they would lock him up, and he would never find Cara. Or his father. He clamped down on the wheel, angry at the measures he had to take that went against all he swore to uphold and protect, and pushed down on the accelerator.

More lights began to flash behind him, and he soon realized that it was a legion of police after him. He figured they blocked the highway, since there were no other cars driving near him besides the police, which he counted as a blessing. He was going to have to try to get as far as he could, then ditch the car.

Minutes ticked by, he heard megaphones blaring voices at him to stop, to surrender. He tuned them out, his mind automatically going back to the last image of Cara he had seen - her beautiful brown hair draped over her sheet-covered body, her lips full from the kiss they had just shared. It motivated him, and he gunned the car as hard as he could, the rain continuing to blind his depth perception of the road.

Going so fast, he hadn't realized he covered twenty miles in a short period of time, knowing he didn't have long before they would attempt to set up a road trap - blow his tires with a spike strip, block the road with police, or something else inventive. It was time to ditch the car.

Will slowly lifted his foot off the gas, knowing the visible reduction in speed would please the officers pursuing him. He watched the road, glancing at the odometer to see the little orange lever shrink to 60 … 50 … 40 … 30 … He gently applied the brakes, putting the car in park. He lifted his hands, inhaling deeply with regret as he knew what needed to be done next. The barrage of police officers screaming at him to exit the vehicle didn't frighten him, nor did all of the guns he saw they had aimed at him as he calmly stepped out of the car, his hands still up. What scared him was the possibility of these innocent people being hurt by what he was about to do.

As he turned toward the car as instructed, he rested his face against the vehicle as several officers rushed him, grabbing him roughly. Now, Will thought sadly in his mind. With a single flick of his wrists, every officer surrounding him was thrown backwards, landing on the cleared, wet highway in shock as Will turned and faced them. Will winced when he felt the sting of a bullet hit his shoulder - the same one that had been hit before. Blood gushed from the wound for a moment, then stopped suddenly. Will remained standing still, his hands coming up in front of himself. "Please," he said loudly. "I don't want to hurt anyone. You don't understand-"

He winced again as another bullet struck him in the leg, and he saw the officers watch in shock as that wound healed itself within seconds. Will began to back away toward a clearing before the woods that lined the highway, the police still ordering him to drop to the ground. Another shot in the leg. Then another. It felt like bee stings to Will, and he grimaced at his only option left to escape.

It was Will's resilience against three bullets to his chest - what should have hit his heart and killed him - that stunned the officers into silence, watching as the bright red blood stained his now rain-soaked shirt as Will continued to step backward toward the woods. He stopped for a moment, pushing with his invisible force the barricade of officers in front of him toward the others, sending them all into a heap on top of each other. Squeezing his eyes shut, he winced as he lifted the Yaris with his mind to block them in, then the squad cars, forming a line in front of them. "GET BACK!" he yelled, hoping to avoid any injuries. With a simple push of his hands, the cars simultaneously burst into flames, the multiple huge explosions pushing the officers even further backwards.

Will took in the scene with regret for a split second before rushing deep into the dark Oregon woods, the rain continuing to pelt down on him and assault his wounds.

11:10 PM PST

There was no way on earth either Scully or Mulder could sleep, knowing their son was so close. Neither one of them knew what to do once he did arrive - they chose to believe he would - because he would be a wanted criminal, a fugitive they didn't know if they could keep safe.

"Good thing our neighbors aren't close," Mulder mumbled, running his hand through his silky dark hair as he paced in the living room.

"He could stay in the shelter if we are searched. It's not detectable." Scully's voice was small, unsure.

"Local authorities won't connect him with us," Mulder said softly. "How would they?"

"Unless they have people there, too."

"Don't you think we would have heard from them by now?"

Scully shrugged, her body weak from worry and exhaustion. Mulder took in Scully's current state with empathy, crossing over to her and kneeling down at her level as she sat on the couch, curled up in her robe. "Hey beautiful," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "Let me make you some tea." The tiny smile Mulder received was enough confirmation, and he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, slipping quietly away to the kitchen. A moment later, Scully heard Mulder yell, "Hey Scully, we're out of tea. I'm gonna go grab some in the food pantry in the basement."

As she listened to the basement door open and Mulder's lanky body traveling down the squeeky basement stairs, Scully wiped a tear away from her cheek with a sigh. "Where are you, William?" she whispered, her heart heavy with fear of the worst.

A rough knock on the front door startled her, yet gave her hope as she stepped toward the door, tightening her robe. She took a quick glance through the peep hole, gasping as she threw open the door.

The rain poured in sheets around the young man who stood on the doorstep. He was soaked, his clothing muddy and his breath ragged. She gazed into his beautiful brown eyes, knowing those eyes all too well. She had seen those eyes not only in a photograph, but every day in Mulder.

"William?" she whispered, her hands grasping her robe in shock.

The young man looked down at the stunning, petite woman who stood in front of him. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest at any given minute, the image of her soothing the deepest corners of his soul he never knew needed healing.

"Mom?" Will breathed with hope.

11:13 PM PST

Warm. She felt warm. Her eyes fluttered open, and Cara immediately pulled against the restraints, realizing she was still bound. But this time she was clothed in her jeans and long sleeve tee shirt. That's why I feel warm. Also, she was no longer laying on a table, but sitting in a chair, her wrists tied behind herself. She pulled her head up to look at her surroundings, only to be met with a sharp pain in her temples. She assumed it was from the beating earlier that rendered her unconscious. Her face and her body ached, and for the first time she realized she was bound at the ankles as well.

She had training on escaping such confines, but knew it would take time. She didn't know how much time had passed, nor how much she had left. All Cara knew was that she had to find Will. Wherever he was, he was in danger.

She wiggled her wrists to see the status of her restraints, realizing they were made out of the same odd self-tightening material as the ones before were. Her ankles were in the same predicament, and she swallowed hard, not knowing if her training would prove to be of service at the moment.

Her eyes shot up to the doorway that she could barely see, the single light not extending out far enough to illuminate the area. She heard it open, a figure entering the room, veiled by the darkness. Her breathing quickened as the door slammed behind the person; whoever it was lingered in the dark for a moment, taking the time to examine her. "What, are you scared?" Cara taunted, believing it to be her captor. When the person didn't respond, Cara became curious. "Come out!" she demanded. "Face me!"

Cara gasped loudly in utter shock as she saw the man who stepped out from the shadows, her eyes widening in horror. "Dad?" she whispered in disbelief.