The journey was a silent one. Though William had been asleep for the majority of the flight, the times that he were awake were still and cold. Everyone was left alone to their thoughts, either dreaming of their loved ones or contemplating their existence, or soon to be lack of. Colonisation had indeed begun, and humanities days were limited.

Will scrunched his hoodie into a pillow and shoved it against the armrest to fall back to sleep on. His eyes were drifting back into slumber as the man beside him pulled out a frayed photograph and studied it earnestly through thick-rimmed glasses. William tried not to make it too obvious that he was watching him.

"Is that your family?" Another man across the isle asked curiously.

The man with glasses was caught off guard, unsure whether to engage in conversation.

"Yes, this… this is my son, Thomas" He handed the photograph to the man across from him, "He's ten, well, in two days he will be…"

"Cute kid, he looks like you" He said passing the photograph back.

"He looks even more like his mother" The glasses man smiled, quickly fading into sadness, "…she's umm, she's not doing too well at the moment. I got a message through that she got sick a couple of days ago…"

"I'm sorry about your wife"

"Ex-wife. She, umm, she lives with another fella now. My working away all the time; I guess it stopped working so well for her…" Glasses man sighed, "I still love her, and Thomas of course…" He tucked the photograph back into his jacket pocket. "We have this great image of the men we want to be, the husbands, the fathers we want our children to see us as. Then somewhere along the line it all gets lost and forgotten, swallowed up by the harsh realities of life. Work, bills, pension plans… it's so easy to lose sight of the things that really matter, and by that point it's too late, your wife is in bed with another man, and your son doesn't want to know you anymore…"

Between them, the men fell momentarily silent.

Glasses man cleared his throat, "I can't change the mistakes I made with my family, but I can try and regain a remnant of respect from my son by fighting my part in this war. What future will he have… what future will any of us have if we are to fall?"

William was wide-awake now, listening in on the conversation he didn't want to be a part of. He unclipped the metal buckle and excused his way past both men, wandered up and down the plane to stretch his legs. This one was a lot bigger than the one they'd flown out on. Will fought his way to the back of the aircraft to the cramped cabin toilet. The words 'out of service' spray painted onto the lid made him question what on earth the plane had been used for before transporting field workers in and out of the Arctic.

On his way back to his seat, Will caught a glimpse of a man he recognised. It was Rachel's father, sat in a window seat with the entire row to himself. Through the dim overhead lighting, William detected the gentle sobbing he was trying to hide. For a moment William considered ducking out of view. He was ashamed of what happened in the crevasse. Had the thought faster or acted quicker perhaps Rachel's fate may be a little different. If things had not played out as they did, Rachel and her father could still be together through these dark times.

William bit the bullet. He plonked himself into the seat next to Rachel's father, well aware that the man may turn around at any minute and tell him promptly to 'piss off'.

"Sir…?" William began.

Rachel's father jumped a little before wiping his eyes and composing himself.

"You're William, aren't you? Rachel's friend, I remember you…"

"Yes Sir"

"You were out there with her when she…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

William felt a lump growing in his throat, "Yes, I was with her…" He prepared himself for the guilt trip to come.

"I want to thank you, for being there with my Rachel. You seem like a sensible lad, I'm sure you would have tried to talk some sense into her… You see, my daughter is a kindred spirit, a well meaning soul, but she also has a tendency to be rather, well, reckless…just like her mother"

William wasn't expecting a thank you for losing the man's daughter. Nevertheless, it spun a different look on the situation.

Listening to him talk about Rachel in such a way was saddening. William missed Alex, but he missed Rachel as well. She'd been there for him from day one, ever since they'd arrived bewildered on base. She was a ticking time bomb of disaster, but most importantly she was a true friend.

"So your parents let you leave the base and come out here?" Rachel's father probed.

"Umm, not exactly…"

"They don't know you're here?"

"They know, but they're not exactly happy about it… I came against their will"

"I see" The man scratched his stubbly beard, "What are you hoping to find back in the real world?"

"Find?" William asked confused, "I guess I'm trying to find my brother… and your daughter…"

The man nodded in understanding, "Do you believe you can find them?"

"I don't know what to believe… but I know I have to try"

William pondered for a moment what it really was he was trying to prove. Trying to prove to his parents, trying to prove to himself, he wasn't entirely sure. He worried he'd made a terrible mistake, that finding his brother and his friend would be futile, that he was walking right into his own death, and that his best bet would have been to stay back in the Arctic with his mother and father and live the remaining days they had left on the planet with family.

"They said you were supposed to be some saviour. The son of the infamous Mulder and Scully who'd foreseen judgement day; a miracle child who'd bring us hope, who'd have 'abilities' to rise up and fight our corner" Rachel's father illustrated, watching, waiting for some kind of conformation on his part.

"I'm sorry to disappoint "William felt guilty for not living up to such a title, "… but I'm afraid I'm just a normal, plain old human. They thought that I was part alien, that I had the DNA inside of me, but it turns out I'm not what they'd hoped for. I'm just… ordinary"

"Extraordinary things often come from the most ordinary of people" The man smiled.

The plane hit a pocket of turbulence, as the lights of DC grew ever closer.