Chapter Three: On the Land
Jackson made it to his eventual destination just as the sun descended into the sky, bone weary after travelling more hours than he thought possible. It had taken an hour to reach a more commercial precinct of Newport Mews and hail a cab. A couple of bars and late-night restaurants open allowing the apparition he conjured to order a hot chocolate and warm food before continuing his journey. Thankful the rain held off; it went part way to ameliorating the cold seeping into the teen's bones. The driver let him off half a mile from his initial goal without a word. Projecting a middle-aged man, slightly rumpled from a night out who tipped well, the cabbie might not recall the nondescript ride with any clarity. Heading two blocks north and one east, Jackson found the locker and his duffle holding all his earthy possessions. Using the bathroom, he quickly changed clothes. Warm and dry, he reconsidered his plan for the hundredth, or possibly thousandth time.
"What time's the next train to Washington?" Jackson requested after a short taxi ride, this time as himself.
"First train's just after six am. You could try the bus," the older gentleman in the ticket office suggested, observing the clock which read just after eleven, "but I think they go at about the same time."
"I lost my phone," the boy stated mournfully, relying on sympathy and people making assumptions about the younger generation. It seemed to be working. Still, he'd keep any contact light and brief, but in character for his age. "Can you look up the timetable for me. My Mom's not going to be happy. She brought it for my last birthday."
"Does she know you're out this late?" Suddenly concerned, the worker wondered why a high school student would be roaming around on a weeknight, so far from home.
Picking up the distress he'd caused and not wanting to be remembered, Jackson frowned and made up a story he knew would be all too easily believed. "I'm supposed to spend the night with my dad and his new wife. SHE doesn't like me! They have a new baby on the way."
Nodding his understanding, Stanley, the attendant, printed the ticket but didn't hand it over. "Do you want me to call you Mom for you?"
"No," Jackson tried for embarrassment and deliberately shuffled his feet. "She'd only panic and I'll be in enough trouble when she finds out. Dad won't tell her I'm gone." A slightly feral grin covered the boy's face, "I'll let mom tear strips off him when she puts it all together."
"Tough situation," Stanley felt sorry for the boy. He seemed polite enough, not like many of the kids who came through the station without respect and manners. He didn't look like a runaway and his story was all too familiar in this changing world.
"I can't wait to go to college, be independent," Jackson pulled a crumpled note out of his pocket. "Keep the change, it's Dad's money and he can afford it."
Stanley wasn't surprised by the teen's generosity. It said more about his antipathy towards his father than kindness. The houses in the surrounding neighbourhoods were expensive and filled with the upper middle class, the kind who liked younger, shiner things regularly. Shaking his head, he watched the kid move into the waiting room, take another note out of his pocket and feed the vending machine. He sat until Stanley's shift ended at six am. After walking out of the station, the ticket attendant never had a reason to think about the boy or his story again.
In DC, Jackson stopped at the first electronic store and considered buying a phone. Habit, his mind supplied, smirking at the impulse and putting the handset back. He nearly walked out, before realising he might not have anyone to call, but he required connection and information. I need it, or at least an internet service. There's too much I've got to do, and I can't do it blindly like I have been. In the visions of my birth mother fighting the coming plague, she approaches everything methodically, gathering information, and making rational choices. I need to do the same.
Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts, the teen easily found a Taxi rank. Finding a driver willing to take him to Nanjemoy, Maryland proved impossible. In the end, Jackson took a bus as far as St Charles Towne. From there he managed a local cab to the Baptist Church a few miles from his ultimate destination. Waiting for the driver to make a tight turn and speed off down the road, Jackson set off across the field on the opposite side of the road, letting his phone guide him. He found the creek and followed it for three-quarters of a mile before heading up the hill. Across the low valley, the house didn't look like much, ordinary enough to be forgotten or ignored. Nestled almost at the top of the next ridge, surrounded by pasture on two sides and a tree-lined creek on the other, he could see the closed and locked gates barring the long drive.
Not that I'll let that stop me, he grinned, making his way towards his parents' home.
Approaching the porch, Jackson took a moment to feel the energy inhabiting this place. It looked abandoned. No car out the front. Wandering around the side, he found closed windows and locked doors. Completely circling the home, he decided to use his skills and opened the front door. Tripping an alarm, he quickly silenced it. The code unconsciously lifted from his mother's memory; it seemed his father hadn't changed it when she moved out.
That's a story I might have to delve into, he considered as the memory surfaced. Maybe tonight, when I'm asleep. I need to make sure they're not coming back here for a few days so I can put my plans into action.
"What a mess," he groaned, observing the desk in the middle of the living room. The kitchen to one side looked well used. Going over, he opened several cupboards and the fridge. "At least it's clean, but not well stocked. Dad can't be living here much, now they're back together. How do I know that? How do I know so much about them? What do I need to do to keep under the radar? Why has my thinking suddenly cleared? Has this experience made me change?"
Shower, clean clothes and sleep, Jackson's mind begged, closing the fridge. I'll have to do something about food tomorrow. I need to work out what's in the local area and how accessible it is, but not when I'm this tired.
Using the last of his energy, Jackson realised the house didn't feel like a home. The increased use of his powers to protect himself over the last few days fatigued the teen. He managed to get a few restless hours of slumber on the train. He's brought enough snacks at the Norfolk station for the trip and stopped for a decent lunch in DC while waiting to catch a bus to keep himself awake and alert for danger. Climbing the stairs, he found a bathroom and two bedrooms on the upper floor. Neither looked like anyone had slept in beds for a while. The bathroom, mercifully, had recently been cleaned. Sighing, it didn't take long to strip and get under the hot water.
In the bigger room, Jackson found his father's clothing. Borrowing a set of track pants and a t-shirt, it seemed they were about the same size. Avoiding the double bed, he crawled into the single in the other room. Depleted, it didn't take long for sleep to find him. Nor did his dreams.
The connection to his birth mother called to him the moment his mind relaxed into oblivion. Safe, warm, and protected, Jackson could feel the emotions as she lay in his father's arms. They were tempered with loss, devastation and darkness. Dana Scully grieved for the death of her son, William. Her mind on an endless loop causing sleep to be fitful and rest elusive.
Then something happened that Jackson didn't think possible. Sure, he'd projected the Ghouli to test his developing powers. Brianna and Sarah saw the apparition, meaning he'd connected with them while they were awake and in a heightened emotional state. He'd unconsciously shared his vision of the future with his birth mother while she slept. Yet, Dana Scully had never projected her thoughts, arrowing them towards him. I meant Jackson could easily enter her mind and poke around. There was so much he wanted to know and experience.
He needed to see Scully's memories of his conception. It wasn't as clear and clean as he'd thought. She'd suffered, gone through so much, and finally turned to his father to help her bring a much-wanted life into the world by any means necessary. Jackson observed their relationship evolve and a miracle occurred when they thought all hope lost. Dana Scully became pregnant and lost the love of her life at the same time. Fast forwarding to his birth, his father returned only to be lost again. The trauma haunting, dark and demoralising, his mother lived for him. She'd had him, and some much-needed joy, for such a short time. Over the years, she'd lost everything that mattered, her mother, her sister, her father, her lover and eventually the product of that love, him. Only to find and lose him again and again.
Covered in sweat, Jack…. No William, I have to start thinking of myself as William if I want this to work, sat up in the lonely single bed. He failed to find out when his parents would return to their unremarkable house but that didn't matter. For now, they were still in Norfolk on an active case. Even flying back to DC, they wouldn't return before lunchtime tomorrow, maybe later, if they went into their office.
I know they work for the FBI; William considered the information he'd taken in during his voyage through Scully's mind. My Mom was, is a doctor. How does that work? My father's a doctor too, but not in the same way. She thinks he's brilliant. Come on, with genetics like that, it explains so much.
Still exhausted but too wired to sleep, William made his way downstairs. Pulling a rug from the sofa, he wrapped himself up and began his search. There was some precise information he needed to find to put his long-term plans into action.
"Now, where will I find what I'm looking for?" he asked the empty room, wishing he'd lifted that data from his Mother's mind.
Two hours later, seated at Fox Mulder's desk, a worn birth certificate before him, William Scully-Mulder had proof of his exitance. A baby photo in the top draw attested to everything he'd learnt about his birth parents. They had loved him, longed for him, and worked hard to bring about his conception. Time and recent events proved they only gave him up for safety. Yet, even that hadn't been enough. The evil of one man had found him and destroyed his family, over and over again.
It's two in the morning, William told his brain, lying down in an attempt to find sleep. I need to return to my mother's mind. There's so much I need to understand.