CHAPTER 14

St. Paul, OR

Scully's heart pounded violently in her chest as she heard William speak a word she never thought she would ever hear him say. Mom.

She didn't know how long she was standing in the doorway, Will outside in the rain, getting more soaked by the minute. She was mesmerized as the young man from her dreams - those many dreams that had haunted her sleep for so long - was face to face with her, confirming everything she had ever hoped for and stirring up everything she had feared.

"I found some Oolong in the-" Mulder stopped speaking abruptly, seeing Scully standing in the open doorway in silence. The young man that had been staring down at her met Mulder's eyes, which widened. The young man before him was tall and handsome, albeit a bit rugged looking at the moment. He looked incredibly strong, and had Mulder's nose. The two men stared at each other, mesmerized.

"Dad?" Mulder heard the young man say softly, his voice cracking.

Mulder's lips parted. "William," he breathed reverently, the shock visible on his face.

"William," Scully finally said softly, coming out of her tear-filled haze, "come in."

With hesitation, Will stepped into the small, warm home, the petite woman he had just called Mom taking his hand. "Oh my God," he heard her whisper, "William, you're freezing."

"I just ran twenty miles in the rain," Will replied as Scully took off his coat. Will heard both her and Mulder gasp as he turned around, his shirt revealing multiple blood stains in the light of the room.

"Jesus, William!" The woman - no, his mother, Dana Scully, peered up at him in horror. "You've been shot!"

"Eight times in the last three days," Will mumbled as he watched Scully automatically lift his shirt to examine his chest.. He couldn't help but give a small smile at her after seeing the puzzled look she gave him. There was absolutely no evidence he had been shot, not even a remaining scratch. "Seven were just tonight."

"But how-"

"Bullets can't hurt him, Scully," Mulder interrupted softly, his eyes shifting back to Will. "Only magnetite."

Scully scanned her son's body, her hands still gripping his bloodied shirt, taking note of his sopping wet attire. "William," Scully's voice was raspy, "you're soaked to the bone." She turned to Mulder, who lingered behind them, still somewhat dumbfounded at the sight of his grown son. "Go with Mulder, you need clean clothes. Everything." Scully's maternal instincts kicked into high gear, and Mulder's heart filled with joy at the sight of her with William.

Mulder nodded quickly, ushering Will to follow him. "Come on," Mulder said, gesturing toward Will. "Let's get you out of that."

Scully watched in amazement as the two men left for the bedroom. Through fresh tears, she studied the little nuances in the way Will walked, and grew even more confident that he was, in fact, her son. He was a mirror image of his father in many ways physically, reminding her of a time long gone when they had first worked together in Oregon.

After busying herself making a pot of coffee, Scully returned to the living room, her heart fluttering wildly as she saw Will's discarded jacket. She carefully picked it up, the dark fabric visibly stained with blood, though she now just saw it. As she hung it up on the rack on the foyer, she saw a small folded piece of paper sticking out from one of the pockets. Carefully, she took it out and unfolded it, even more tears escaping her eyes as she saw an older image of her and Mulder. "Oh my God," she whispered through tears. She had never imagined she would be able to ever see William again, let alone as a grown man. How is that possible, anyway? Scully thought.

"Alright, good as new," she heard Mulder say as the entered the room, Will now dressed in his fathers jeans and a black turtleneck of his. Scully turned, slipping the photo back into Will's coat pocket and looking toward the two men. It was amazing how much they looked alike, and it made her even more emotional.

"I made coffee," she murmured, wrapping her robe tighter around herself. Glancing up at Will, she quickly added, "But we have tea if you'd rather-"

"Coffee would be great," Will replied softly, his gaze assuring.

"Cream? Sugar?" she asked, swiftly heading for the kitchen.

"Black," Will said, receiving an approving nod from Mulder.

"William," Mulder said, sinking into the couch as Will sat across him in an armchair, "who shot you?"

"Police," he mumbled, smoothing his pants nervously. Will wasn't exactly sure why he was nervous, but he assumed it was a natural reaction to having parents once again.

"Why?" Mulder asked.

Will sighed. "It helps if we go from the beginning."

"Alright," Mulder nodded, "start there."

"No, I mean from the VERY beginning," Will corrected, leaning back in his chair as Scully re-entered the room with three mugs of steaming coffee. "I need answers." As Scully sat next to Mulder, she could sense the remorse building in Will as he looked at them.

"That's fair," Mulder replied gently. "We go first."

"Why give me up?"

Scully's head dropped; she sniffled softly, instantly bursting into tears. Will studied her, the darkness in him rising in rage at the confusion he felt, yet the light inside of him begging to understand. "I wanted you to be safe, William," Scully said, her head still hanging. "You wouldn't have been safe with us."

"Spender took my power away," Will argued. "I was just a baby."

"They didn't know that," Mulder interjected, seeing Scully overcome with emotion. "My guess is, they found you right around when your … parents … died." His voice wavered on the title of parents, and Will sighed softly, knowing he had come down too harshly on them right off the bat.

"Okay," Will said, trying to control his anger but failing, "so why did they care if I was normal?"

Mulder shook his head. "You couldn't have been. You couldn't have been normal."

"They wouldn't have cared if you were," Scully agreed.

"Listen," Will leaned forward, his eyes intense, "I was a normal kid. I grew up on a farm. The most interesting things I ever did was throw knives into hay bales and race other idiot kids on the country dirt roads in our parents' cars." His jaw tightened. "So you tell me what's so abnormal about that."

"We don't know," Mulder replied, his voice rising a little, its tone firm. "We don't have those answers."

The two men stared each other down, and the tension Scully felt frightened her. "William," she said gently, seeing neither man flinch, "we don't think it was an accident that your parents died." Scully now found herself under the tense gaze of Will. "They wanted to separate you from them."

"Who's they?" Will demanded.

"The same they that went after you in the first place," Mulder interrupted, regaining Will's intense stare. "By the way, where is Cara?"

Will stood in anger, which made Mulder stand, the two men stepping toward each other. "If I knew, I wouldn't be here," Will growled, his fist clenched at his side. Mulder's eyes narrowed at his son, who stood exactly eye-level with him. Though he didn't look at her, Mulder heard Scully's small gasp and could imagine the fear on her face as they witnessed what Doggett had been referring to as William being "a loose cannon."

"It's all over the news," Mulder continued, unable to stop himself. "She's gone. You took her."

"I didn't take her anywhere," Will replied darkly, closing the gap between himself and Mulder. "THEY took her from ME."

"Hey listen," Mulder said, not backing down, "you come to us, you demand answers, but are you ready to hear them?" Mulder's voice was louder than he intended it to be. "Well, are you?!"

"I came here to protect you," Will sneered.

"Protect us from what?" Mulder replied. "From things you don't believe?"

"Stop it!" Scully shouted, standing. "Stop it. Right now." She paused, watching the two men as they stood face to face, waiting to attack one another like two junkyard dogs. "Sit!" She saw them slowly relax, each realizing the uncanny resemblance in the way they dealt with their emotions. Will was the first to sit, running his hand through his dark hair. As Mulder sat, Scully remained standing, her hands on her hips. "You," she shouted, glaring at Will, "you need to trust us." Her focus shifted to Mulder. "And you," she shouted, "you need to give him a reason to."

The three were silent for a long moment, Scully slowly coming to sit after the wave of her anger receded. Will's focus was on the coffee table in front of him, his mind lost on Cara. He felt his eyes well up with tears, knowing he had to face all of this with an open mind if he ever wanted to see her again. He had to come to terms with who he was, and where he came from, whether it was what he knew or what would be revealed to him by the two strangers who sat in front of him. Cara needed that much from him. Will's eyes shifted to Scully's, holding her gaze for a moment before turning his attention to Mulder. Cara's words echoed in his mind. "Come on, Will! You still are doubting all of this is possible?"

"I heard your phone number," Will said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Scully's lips parted at the revelation. "I didn't call it. I didn't want to believe it."

"What is it?" Mulder asked gently, requesting a test.

"503, 555, 8714." Will sighed. "I knew it was yours. No, I didn't get it from anyone."

"Yes, you did," Mulder corrected, nodding toward Scully.

Will's eyes flicked to Scully, who nodded slightly in confirmation. "I … From what Doggett said, I shouldn't be able to communicate with you."

"I know," Scully whispered.

Will rubbed his eyes, the evening proving to be more than he could handle. A loud buzzing sound, accompanied by a somewhat offending tone cut through the silence. Will pawed at his jeans pocket immediately, holding his breath as he fished out the phone. Mulder and Scully watched as Will opened his phone, frozen as he stared at the small screen. "William," Mulder said gently, seeing the color leave his son's face. "What is it?"

"Son of a bitch," Will growled, bolting up from his seat. His breathing picked up, and Mulder saw as his fist tightened around the phone.

"William," Mulder stepped toward Will slowly, reassuring him with his hands he was there to help. "Easy."

"Mother fucking-"

"Easy," Mulder repeated, taking the phone from his hands. He didn't look at what William saw, but could imagine what he might soon see. "This is what they want," Mulder warned, taking his son by the arm gently. "They'll feed it to you until it breaks you."

"I'll kill him," Will said darkly. "I'm gonna fucking-"

"Hey," Mulder took Will by both arms after dropping the phone on the coffee table. "Listen. You've got to control yourself. They're banking on your rage to blind you, to cripple you."

"I guess they've never seen me in action, then," Will replied coldly.

"Listen," Mulder continued as Scully watched in concerned and frightened silence, "I've been there. They've done this to me. To us. You have to keep your head. Cara is depending on it."

After a few moments, Mulder felt Will relax slightly, his hands still comforting his son. "She didn't do anything to deserve this," Will finally said, his voice weak.

"I know," was Mulder's reply as he drew Will into an embrace. He felt his own tears escaping as Will's sobs racked against his body. Will withdrew from Mulder, Scully coming to his aid with tissues and her own hug. It was then that Mulder's eyes fell on the image of a barely clothed Cara, cut, bruised, bound and beaten, the pain she felt on so many levels evident in her eyes, and his heart broke alongside his son's for her and for him.

When Cara realized it was her father who stood before her in the small, dark holding room, she became utterly confused. "What the hell are you doing here?" she yelled at him, the anger of many years of abuse from him thick in her tone.

"Cara," the man said softly, sadly looking at her current condition.

"I have nothing to say to you," she said darkly.

"Please-"

The opening door cut off the man as Cara's captor, the deep-voiced man, entered the room. "Always nice when a family gets to reunite," he commented, coming to stand next to Cara's father. "Isn't it, Tim?"

"Don't do this," Timothy English pleaded.

"The first part of our festivities will begin with a nice heart to heart with your father," the deep-voiced man directed to Cara. "You have one simple task. At the end of ten minutes, I want you to have convinced your father to give me what I want."

"Why should I?" Cara growled. "I don't give a shit about him."

"Cara, please-"

"Ten minutes." The deep-voiced man's voice rose above Timothy's. "Otherwise, he dies."

The deep-voiced man left the room, the door slamming furiously in the darkness. After hearing her captor's final words of her father, Cara felt a bit of guilt rise up in her at her careless words she used only moments before. Bullshit, she thought angrily. He made me live through hell!

"Please, Cara," Timothy said gently, his voice trembling. "Please listen-"

"Oh, now you want me to help you?" Cara screamed. "Years of torture and hell, and what? I'm suppose to forget?"

"Cara, you don't understand-"

"Oh, I understand. You're scared to die, you piece of shit!"

"Cara, you must believe!" Timothy said in such a way that it grabbed Cara's attention. "Cara …" Timothy was hesitant, stepping toward Cara and kneeling in front of her. "What you remember … It wasn't real."

Cara's eyes narrowed at her father. "Me being your punching bag when you were drunk wasn't real?" Her voice cracked, the anger overflowing. "It was really fucking real for me!"

"I didn't have a choice, Cara!" Timothy pleaded.

"The hell you didn't."

"Cara, why are you here?" Timothy redirected, his voice growing firmer. "Do you know why?"

"I'm a piece of meat to draw my partner in," Cara replied darkly.

"No!" Timothy argued. "You're here because it's YOU they want."

"Bullshit-"

"No, listen!" Timothy shouted. "Listen. You're here because of a choice I made when you were a child."

"What, to be an asshole?"

"Cara, please!" Timothy begged. "Please … please just … let me talk. Please." His eyes were glassy as he searched Cara's, and she realized for the first time in a while that she, in fact, had her father's eyes.

"So talk," she replied fiercely, regretting the opportunity she gave him the instant she did.

"Cara, have you ever heard of super soldiers?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Your partner, William. He is one of them."

"No shit."

"Please, Cara, listen to me." Timothy's eyes searched hers. "Then you know of the plans for colonization?"

"Yes."

"Okay … Well, I did too, as a young man working in the eighties in the government as a biologist." Timothy paused, seeing Cara waiting for him to continue. "I was approached by a group of men known as the Syndicate to work on biological developments to protect humans from the invasion."

"Hybrids, you mean," Cara said softly.

"That's what they wanted me to, but I had a different idea," Timothy replied. "It took ten years before I could master it, but I was able to not only write the genetic code, but sequence the entire human genome to change the biology of a person." He paused, hesitant. "My proposition to the Syndicate was to enact this genetic re-routing in a select group of people to act as shields, humans who were untraceable to the colonists."

Cara's lips parted. "So they would survive."

"So they would survive and multiply," Timothy added.

"And overtake the colonists."

"Eventually."

"So … what happened?"

Timothy sighed. "Test subjects were brought in, none of which survived the procedure. We used mature adults, thinking they would be ideal. We discovered they were too weak." Timothy looked down at the floor. "So, children were brought in by the Syndicate. The children that weren't being used as hybrid testers became shield testers." Cara's eyes widened in horror. "I know what you're thinking," Timothy continued quickly. "But we saw it as the only way to survive." He looked up at Cara, his lips pressed together. "You … you were the greatest success for the Shield Project."

"What?" Cara whispered, her face wrought with disgust.

"Your mother and I … we wanted you to be safe. To have a future." Timothy's voice was soft, careful. "We knew we had to do something."

"You … did a procedure on me?" Cara's voice wavered.

"I rerouted your DNA through the implementation of the Shield," Timothy whispered, looking up at Cara. "Your acceptance of the Shield was far greater than any of the other children. You … you out performed them in every way possible."

"So if this is true, then why don't I remember any of it?" Cara challenged.

She saw Timothy swallow hard, his face tightening at the thought she posed. "We … I … needed to ensure your safety," he said with a tremble. "Your mother didn't think it necessary. But I knew better." He rubbed his eyes, sighing into his hands. "I had your memories erased, Cara. I erased what you knew of everything before you took on the shield at fourteen. Everything."

"How the hell can you sit there and tell me you erased my memories?" Cara argued. "I've got plenty of memories!"

"Those aren't real!" Timothy yelled, crushing his face into his hands. The sound of his sobbing made Cara pause and rethink her approach a bit. "I told them to give you memories that would drive you far away from me." A tear escaped Timothy's eyes. "I knew you would leave, and I wanted you to. I wanted you to be safe. You weren't safe with me … not if I couldn't replicate what I had done with you."

"And you haven't," Cara whispered, seeing the dots to be connected.

"No. Not after what I saw it did to you."

The silence laid thick in the air between them. "So, you fed into the lie? To keep up appearances?"

"I drank, Cara, to cope. To cope with losing my only child … my daughter … and eventually your mother." Timothy's eyes narrowed at Cara. "But I never … EVER … touched you."

"I FELT IT," Cara shouted. "I felt you beat me!"

"It wasn't me, Cara!" Timothy said, his voice straining. "What you felt was the effects of the procedure. Your memories were centered around protecting the secret. The abuse you felt … was from the testing. Everything … everything was from the project. You were gone for four years, Cara. We called it boarding school. And when you were done with the project, the recent 'past' was all you could recollect. It was enough to drive you away by fifteen. Your mother left me after that."

"No one ever questioned anything?" Cara asked.

"No one ever thought highly of me anyway," Timothy answered. "They assumed you were hidden because we wanted to keep your abuse a secret."

"So prove it to me!" Cara shouted, her anger making her pull against her restraints. "Prove it all to me!"

"I would if I could, Cara!" Timothy said. "But you don't believe. It's why you can't yet see."

"So you're saying all I have to do is believe in magic and fairies and bullshit and I'll suddenly see that you were this innocent man?"

"Yes," was his calm reply. "You have to trust me." His hands reached up toward Cara, and she leaned as far away from him as she could. With his hands floating in midair, Timothy whispered, "Please, Cara … just try." Cara's breathing quickened as she accepted Timothy's hands on her head, her eyes squeezing shut at the contact with a grimace. "Just try, Cara. Believe."

She didn't want to. She didn't want to give him any credit. She had spent her life trying to forget him, and now he asked her to try to remember. It was Will's face that came into her mind as she battled against her father's request, recalling how she demanded that he just simply "believe." It was such an unfair thing to ask, she now realized. Since she had made Will face so many of his demons, she silently agreed to - just this once - face her own.

She gasped as a sudden flurry of pictures entered her mind. Images of a younger version of her father and mother, a collage of happy times filtering into her mind's eye. She saw a father who read to her, pushed her on a swing and took her shopping on her tenth birthday. She saw a mother who laughed, and a father who kissed her as if nothing else in the world mattered. She saw a man in a suit and tie enter a front door, a smile on his face as he greeted the two people he loved the most. She also saw a man whose tears spilled onto documents in the solitude of his home office, a glass of bourbon shot back to dull the pain.

She saw several men she didn't recognize, older men with scowls on their faces and sinister hearts. She saw other children, children screaming out in pain in glass rooms as men with clipboards analyzed them. She saw children sitting in what looked like a classroom, all dressed in pure white jumpsuits. She saw a table - a metal table much like she was strapped to earlier - in a room with various large tools that looked like they held deadly secrets. She saw her father, looking down at her as she peered up at him on the table, his voice wavering and tears running down his cheeks as he whispered to her:

"I will always love you, Cara."

Cara screamed as her eyes flashed open; her heart raced wildly and she couldn't catch her breath. Her father's hands lifted off of her head, and he took her shoulders gently, tears freely falling down his face. Cara searched his eyes, her own tears cascading down her cheeks. "Dad," she whispered. "I remember."

She cried, and he held her, his own tears splashing onto her tangled hair. "Cara, you must listen to me," he said softly. "This information is vital to William's understanding. William was born in 2001. He was my final project, before I stopped everything."

"What do you mean?" Cara asked through a sniffle.

"We accelerated William's biological development for two purposes … one was for him to gain the strength he needed for battle." Timothy's eyes searched Cara's. "He was secured for over a year in isolated study as we performed the acceleration. His adoptive parents were killed by colonists just prior to his transformation. He was only three." Sensing her confusion, he continued in hopes of clarifying things. "In 2004, we took William in and gave him the accelerant. We also created all of his memories, replacing any he already had. We changed him into a 17-year-old so he would be forced to live with a relative after his parents' death. We altered records, everything was coordinated. Even his aunt wasn't his true relative, but a hybrid who posed as one. She died of cancer shortly after taking on the role."

Cara's head shook in disbelief. "His entire life …"

"...Was a fabrication." Timothy sighed. "The detective he would be mentored by was the first genuine encounter he had since the project was completed."

"But he was suppose to be normal after receiving magnetite as a baby."

"His powers resurfaced when he was three. His adoptive parents grew frightened at his condition, and they notified the agency that he needed medical treatment. The colonists saw that they knew too much, and killed them. We interceded before William could be found, we used several Shields to protect him. They weren't nearly as strong as you."

Cara's eyebrow raised, realizing there was still a missing piece. "What was the second purpose of the acceleration?"

Timothy looked deep into his daughter's eyes. "You were born before he was. But I knew he would be mankind's savior. In aging him, I had hoped fate would … bring you and he … together." He saw her lips part at the revelation. "They wanted to design him to be drawn to you. I fought against it. I … I wanted you each to have the freedom of most important choice in life."

"Love," Cara whispered.

Timothy's small smile of confirmation was harshly interrupted by the door swinging open, the deep-voiced man stepping inside, accompanied by two other men dressed head-to-toe in black. They carried large automatic weapons with them, their faces like stone. Cara gasped as she looked at one of them; it was the same man who guarded Will at the hospital that smelled like stone. They approached Cara's father, grabbing him roughly and holding him in front of the deep-voiced man.

"Have a nice chat?" the deep-voiced man asked, stepping near Timothy.

"Please," Timothy begged, "please don't-"

"So, did you convince him?" the man asked Cara, whose eyes shot over to her father.

"I will never give you what you want," Timothy growled, receiving an angry punch to the stomach as reward for his bravery.

"Dad!" Cara screamed. "Stop! It's me you want, just leave him alone!"

The deep-voiced man glared at Cara. "You're right. It is." He turned back to Timothy. "See, your daughter is smarter than you afterall."

"I will die before I let you destroy her," Timothy replied, spitting at the man much like Cara had earlier. As he took another blow to the gut, he heard Cara's screams and yelled out to her, "Cara! Defend the Shield! No matter what!"

"So be it," the deep-voiced man said darkly.

"DAD!" Cara screamed, fighting against her restraints as she watched the two other men who held Timothy turn him toward her. "Let him go!" she screamed.

"Say goodbye," the deep-voiced man said to Cara as a gun was shoved into her father's head.

"NO! DAD!"

"Cara! Defend the Shield!" Timothy yelled, wincing against the pressure of the gun's muzzle.

"DAD!"

"Cara …" Timothy's eyes filled with tears, knowing the words he would now speak would be his final. "I will always love you."

The sharp blast from the automatic weapon joined the cacophony of screams from Cara, her throat raw as she watched her father slump to the ground in instant death in front of her eyes. She screamed violently, words mixed in with raw emotion as she mourned, watching the guards drag her father's lifeless body from the room, the blood from his head leaving a trail on the floor away from her.

Shock in the form of stunned silence and breathlessness hit her system after the door slammed behind the deep-voiced man, his words resounding in her mind with intense fury:

"William is next."