TITLE: 'The Beginning And The End' (parts 19-21 of ??) AUTHOR: XSketch (XSketch@hotmail.com) WEBSITE: http://thesketchfiles.bravehost.com DISCLAIMER: See part 1 for all disclaimers. --------------------------------------------------- In Minnesota Dana Scully was mentally awakening to the depths that her connection with Mulder went to. In Pennsylvania Gibson Praise was mentally awakening to a new level of need to help his old friends. In Washington DC Agents John Doggett and Monica Reyes were being introduced to a new brand of ally. Yet - ironically - despite all the insight being gained in the three separate states, not much happiness was going around, and the country was still in the dark about the Conspiracy that was working toward its end... XXXXXXXXXXXXX REFLECTING POOL WASHINGTON, D.C 12:12am He sat alone on the bench that he knew had been their bench - where the two of them had regularly sat whilst coming up with theories. In a way, he guessed, through them it had become his bench too as they had called him here to help with a couple such occasions. But, anyway, that wasn't why he was here. He was here because he needed to think, figure out what path he should be following... Find himself, really, because that was what had happened over the last couple of months: he'd lost himself and had no idea who he was anymore - no idea what it meant to be Chuck Burks, university professor and friend of two now-fugitive FBI agents, always eager to do the right thing and help... Was he really that person anymore, or was he now just a pawn in the game paranoid Mulder had always warned about? The guy that had been approached by his boss and two Men in Black and asked to spy on Doggett and Reyes? The guy that had (practically against his knowledge) helped the conspirators more than he had the 'good guys'? No. He had to go back. Not necessarily to how it had been, because he knew those days were long gone, but he definitely had to start helping Doggett, Reyes, Mulder and Scully again, no matter what it took... A cautious glance around to check nobody was watching him, and then Burks slowly reached into his coat pocket to withdraw the lab test results that he'd had a friend do on the papers in the alleged Majestic 12 file. According to what he was reading, most of the pages proved positive to have been printed in 1947...except the one sheet he had scanned into his computer on Doggett and Reyes' initial visit and several others that contained information pertaining to UFO crash sites in rock quarries across the globe. The results said that the paper for those pages matched no known types - not of present production or that of almost sixty years ago. It couldn't even be determined what tree the page had been produced from. Burks frowned, slipped the folded letter back into his coat pocket and was about to reach for his briefcase when a figure suddenly sat down on the bench next to him. "By the look on your face, I get the feeling we're both screwed." Chuck sharply turned to see Alvin Kersh looking straight ahead at the pool. XXXXXXXXXXXXX "Okay, I've had enough of this stupid game of 'Cat And Mouse' now. I want some damn answers!" ROOM #524 D.C GENERAL HOSPITAL With his partner safely back in her bed, Doggett sharply turned to stare at the white-coated man that was helping Shannon McMahon back to her feet. "No more 'I'll explain later's, and certainly no more piles of BS!" He coughed - wincing at the pain not too far short of what Reyes had been exposed to - and shook his head. Before they left for California he wanted to have a handle on what the hell they were doing, and he just hoped the No-Nonsense approach he'd always had to things helped him get it (even though it hadn't as of yet). "That's why I came," the younger man hesitated, looking up. They all watched the large wound in McMahon quickly heal and then puzzled, exhausted eyes turned to stare at White-Coat. "I am part of the government's program and I met Agent Mulder...I am one of the beings that were created with Agent Scully's stolen ova." "A clone," Doggett stated flatly - having read the files that Scully had kept at her apartment over the past year. "A clone?" Reyes exclaimed in her choked voice. "You're the ones taking over, so why do you want to help?" Confusion warred with panic. On the one hand this man... thing...whatever...had helped them, but on the other he could be part of the ones against them; could be using them to get to Mulder and Scully... The two had learnt to 'Trust No One', and they certainly had as much reason to trust this guy as Shannon the supersoldier, but something was telling them that White Coat could be of some use. "Yes, I'm a clone, and technically I am against you - one of the 'bad guys', I think you would say," the red- haired man explained. "My reasons for just saving you are completely selfish. But whilst I lack any form of emotion - most especially toward your race - I still possess the inherited need to protect my family - my mother and brother." "The other clones?" Monica queried. John looked at her before returning his focus to the man that sat in front of him. "Br--?" "He's talking about William," Shannon cut in. "William? We keep hearing his name, and yet still we seem no nearer to finding him or having a full knowledge of his importance to any of this!" "That's because you're not listening." XXXXXXXXXXXXX They were meant to be. She didn't know how and she didn't know why, but if there was only one thing she was sure of, Dana Katherine Scully knew she and Mulder were meant to be together. Soulmates? Despite what had happened during the Ephesian case five years ago, she guessed - with a deaf ear turned to the scientist inside - that that could be exactly what they were. The thing that really did keep her guessing, though, was the inability to present an explanation for the depth of their connection - the total lack of reasoning behind her now approaching the rear of the truck's trailer because in her dream that was where she had been certain he was. What was it he had once said? 'A dream is the answer to a question we haven't figured out how to ask'? 'Something buried in your subconscious'? What she had just witnessed had been too real...too close to what he had likely experienced out by the truck after leaving her in the room. How could that be buried in her subconscious? And how could she be so certain as to where he was now? Maybe it was just meant to be... As with so much else, she pushed it aside for the time being and stared at the large door that hung open a fraction. "Scully...Scully...Scully..." The whimpered mantra filled the still air in the trailer and stabbed at her. After hauling her small frame up into the black box, Scully pulled the small maglite out from the robe pocket she had slipped it into before rushing out here and whispered, "Mulder?" Either he didn't hear her, he was too deeply lost in whatever nightmare was gripping him...or he had completely gone over the edge, because his simple, choked plea repeated over and over. "Scully...Scully...Scully...Scully..." Almost to the point of making her scream. The small beam of light pierced through the darkness, bouncing against the bare walls and three of the empty corners. "Mulder?" she started again, a little more loudly. Finally, in the fourth corner - on the floor - the dim light reflected off something. As she neared the far end of the trailer and the light increased, she realised it was her partner huddled into a ball and slightly rocking back and forth. And then her heart broke. So many outbursts of emotion had passed between them over the past month - so many tears and questions to the heavens above of 'why us?' that always resulted in the only answer of them being in each others' arms. But even through his heartache he had always tried to lighten the load she bore...He had always tried to stand in the face of Hope, give a wry quip, assure her that it would be okay and she'd done the best thing by giving William away... "Scully...Scully...Scully..." To see him so broken now - her warrior fallen and defeated... She didn't know if she could pick him up again. "Oh my God," she croaked, lowering herself onto her knees in front of him. "Mulder?" When he didn't respond Dana reached out a shaky hand to rest on his left forearm, hoping it would stop his incessant rocking and grab his attention. As usual her touch made his eyes lift to stare at her, but the rhythmic pattern his body seemed trapped in did not falter. "Mulder. It's me - Scully... Can you hear me?" "Scully...Scul-ly..." His voice cracked as his eyes focused. "Scully?" "Yeah, it's me." An attempt at a smile on her part, but she failed and it only made more tears form in his eyes. "What you doing out here? You can't tell me it's warmer in here than the bed..." He blinked and then shook his head to try and clear out the sound that is still ringing in his ears. "Drumming... Pounding...Can you hear it? It won't--...It won't stop... I...I wanna...uh..." He can't bear to look at her anymore - certain that he can't save her or their son - so he abruptly drops his head so his forehead rests against his knees. "Scully, I don't know how to stop Them... You were right, They might be coming early, but I'm not so sure if I can...can protect--" "Look at me." Her voice gently whispers to him and belies the turmoil she is fighting against. But he doesn't obey - instead beginning his simple mantra again. "Mulder, there is..." A pause as the impact of her new-found faith sets in. "There is Hope. I believe you and I know somewhere deep down you believe it too... This is just a nightmare in which you've misplaced that belief..." "I don't--" "I need you, partner, so please just look at me... Please?" He did. "There. Is. Hope." Suddenly - even in the poor light - she saw her reflection in his eyes. Shortly after that images from the start of her dream played over in them. "I don't wanna be useless," he croaked as she lost herself in his eyes. "I want to be able to help. I want to protect my family no matter what. I don't want us to be living comfortably and then have the aliens come knocking at our door. I don't wanna lose you..." "You won't..." She was being serious and genuine, but still her voice was a little distant. "Not ever." The tears continued to well in his eyes as she felt them doing the same in her own, and they continued to stare at one another. She almost felt as if she was becoming the witness to all the pain that refused to let him out of its crushing grip. No words would cure him...No words would cure her... What would it take to ease it? 'It's gonna be okay, I promise.' She had believed him when he'd uttered that to her in Nebraska and Kansas. She believed him now. If she could just re-inject that belief into him. "Do you remember what you said to me in your hallway before I was stung by the bee?" The rocking motion of his body stopped and his head slightly cocked to the side before it gave a nod. "Do you?" "Yes...But--" "How about what you said to me after I found you at the Department of Defense? What you told me the first time we made love?" "Scully, I can't...Please, I can't..." Distressed and slipping away again, his head began to shake. "Make it stop..." Dana swallowed and swallowed hard. Struggled to cling on to her own sanity and the burst of strength she knew she needed if she wanted to bring him back. "Do you..." Swallowing yet again. Using her memories of their time together before this moment to anchor her. "Mulder, do you remember what you told me just before you left?" He didn't respond, but it seemed she'd at least grabbed his attention. "You told me we were what kept you going...That death couldn't even stop you from being with us, so the conspiracy was definitely not worth wasting a millisecond of worry on." He made her a whole person... He was her constant and touchstone...She owed him so much that he refused to let himself believe. But she needed him sane, dammit! "You said you knew we both still had answers to look for, but William and I would always be your Truth. Mulder, none of *this* matters - none of being fugitives or alien invasion or whatever happened out here tonight matters! *None* of it!" Scully had to pause and calm the voice that had suddenly grown aggressive. "Time and time again you've assured me that it's going to be okay. You save me with your words and your actions and your love...I don't need you to be able to stop this or have all the answers. I just want *you* - Fox 'Spooky' Mulder - even with all your annoying traits." A weak smile. "These last four weeks have been rough...Bottled emotions trying to escape whilst we're learning to be both the people we were and new people at the same time. But I can't do the tears anymore, Mulder, and I need you to be strong...for you as well as for me...so that we can come out on the other side of this..." Wet hazel eyes fixed on her once again, and she could see he was struggling to fight back against the whirlwind of emotion that had knocked him down, but he was losing. She knew it was a difficult battle - she had internally been fighting against something akin to it when she'd broken down outside the motel in Nebraska - but she also knew she'd be there every step of the way to help him. "Please, help me," Dana whispered, repeating her words from when she had found him at the DoD building three years ago, resting her forehead against his. "The artifact nearly claimed both you and your beautiful mind...Then you were taken...and after you were miraculously returned you had to leave again...I've lost you so many times I can't...I can't...Mulder, don't do this now. Please - not after all we've been through." Both partners' eyelids slipped shut but the friction of his skin on her forehead let her know that Mulder was slightly shaking his head. "I promised you Hope...that I'd do everything I could to protect you....but I can't..." he breathed. 'You're gonna have this baby, and I'm gonna do everything I can to protect it. I just can't do that here.' The words had haunted her soul since she'd given William away. "You left us to protect us..." She paused as the sob building in her throat threatened to choke her. "You gave up--...gave up everything - including your own safety - to protect us. You think I don't think that was a big enough sacrifice?" Of course, it had done very little to protect them, but that was beside the point right now... "I watched his first smile, listened to his first laugh...saw the first pout of that inherited lower lip...and every second it killed me inside because I so badly wanted you there to see him too. The fact that...The fact that having you there might mean we wouldn't be able to see him do any of those things at all just dealt the final blow!" "I tried...I couldn't...I...I should at least be able to protect you now..." "You *don't* have to protect me! Did I ever say that you do?" A cold, shaky hand came up to cup her cheek and she opened her eyes to stare at him. "I just need to be able to lean on you and have you lean on me so that we can support each other." It wasn't going to be that easy to forget or push aside, but for now they needed to fight it one increment at a time...even if it did feel as if they were taking one step forward and ten back. The first increment was taken as he opened his own eyes yet again and - no matter how dim and questionable - she noticed something only she would ever be able to see or interpret...Watched something re-ignite itself within his soul: the flicker of flame and fight that made him who he was. XXXXXXXXXXXXX Kersh fidgeted to the point of annoyance...Then again, Burks wasn't too happy with his moment of thought being disturbed as it was. "You think you're doing the right thing...Follow the crowd...But there are so many crowds now..." the deputy director's deep voice drawled. "I knew which side was the good side - the right side... But somewhere I just--... The line got fuzzy..." came Burks' distant reply as he shook his head and continued to stare at the dark water. "Well...I mean, I didn't help the bad side...But I began to drift..." Alvin Kersh realised that somewhere he'd lost himself too. He'd never cared for the X-Files or the rogue agents he had to watch over...The only thing he had really cared about was his career path and serving the Institution he had so admired since his early childhood. But *never* had he intended on letting power manipulate him so much, even in the face of justice. *There are forces inside the government now that a man would be foolish to disobey.* His head lowered and his eyelids slipped shut as Suveg's words echoed in his memory. The image of the Toothpick Man slicing off the general's head, though, was enough to bring him back to attention. "I tried to get AD Follmer to help track down that woman..." he eventually confessed, turning to face Burks. "The one that was helping Agents Doggett and Reyes..." "The one that gave them the MJ file?" Kersh had forgotten about that, and both eyebrows raised. "You still have it?" "I ran a test on it...I know she said not to waste time checking, but....Anyway, the file is genuine, but..." Burks' voice faltered as he shot a glance down at the jacket pocket in which he had quickly shoved the test results. "She said they needed to research the ancient tribes and geological sites...All the pages relating to those things are on paper that can't be identified..." "Does Agent Doggett know that?" "Not yet...I haven't seen them recently...I got a little...side-tracked..." An understanding nod from Kersh. "But I intend on getting back on the right path." Yet another agreeing nod of the deputy director's head. "And I intend to do the same...even though it'll probably be the last thing I do... I just wish I'd been able to convince Follmer of what I had been blind to for so long..." And then silence as they both looked back out over the reflecting pool and tried to plan their next move. XXXXXXXXXXXXX CONNELSVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA 1:02am It wouldn't stop. He couldn't turn it off, and he knew that if it didn't stop soon it would drive him crazy. So again Spender tried to reach up and remove the batteries from the damn smoke alarm that had suddenly set itself off for no apparent reason. The constant, loud ringing was the least of Gibson's worries. Unable to break the connection with Mulder and Scully that was still overriding his senses, he slowly slipped into bed and then turned to stare out at the star-lit sky through the open window. He knew Agent Scully was trying to help her partner regain his strength...and was gradually succeeding with a lot of effort. He knew Agent Mulder had learnt that there was a lot more Truth they still needed to learn. He just didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do about any of it! *You have to help them. You have to protect them so that they can protect you.* Gibson's head snapped round at the sound of the familiar (slightly unintelligible) voice, only to find himself face to face with his old friend Thea. He opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head and he closed it again. *Agent Spender doesn't need to know--...he *can't* know until the time is here, but you have to know because it involves you...your connection to Them,* the girl's voice penetrated his brain without a word ever passing her lips. The boy frowned in confusion, and yet at the same time it all seemed to somehow make sense. *Mulder and Scully. Some of them know what They are to the Process, but none of them are ready to either believe it or understand it,* he sadly sighed telepathically. *And you - your importance.* His head briefly lowered. It was a fact he couldn't avoid no matter how much he tried. *As far as they think they know William is the only one that needs to be ...protected...and they're right. The aliens only fear me because of the threat of exposure I hold.* *They fear you because you could be like William,* Thea uttered. *It's how you hold such a connection with Scully and Mulder. They fear you because you can stand up against them, even though - genetically - you should be following them.* *It's starting, isn't it?* *It will be. Soon. There are many still wondering what side to fight on, and many will try to trick you so that they can capture you...change you so you'll follow them. But you need to follow what's in your heart.* Gibson looked away again to consider the words. Was what he felt in his heart so much different to the genetic material that flowed through his veins? It had to be because he knew who he would stand with, but what if his heart grew too weak? His head turned back and what he saw almost brought tears to his eyes. Instead of Thea, at the side of his bed knelt the shadowed figure of the woman that had brought him up...The woman he had considered as 'Mom'. He couldn't remember her that much (he couldn't even recall how she had died), but he knew and he wondered if this would be what William would feel like several years from now, after never knowing his parents. *You were always so special, Gibson,* the dark haired spectre telepathically sighed. *Share that. Save the humans and then lead them - conquer them. Help them find the vaccine and help them live. Help them find their son so that they don't have to go through the same pain I had to go through when I lost you.* As impossible as he thought it would be, he saw tears trickle down the ghost's pale cheeks. *But how can I help? I know what I am, but I'm also just a kid!* came his defiant exclamation through the sleep that was fogging his brain. The woman gave a nod. *Go with Agents Doggett and Reyes, meet with Mulder and Scully, and then stay with them. Send the others back to Washington to fight the fight here. When you feel deep down inside that the time is right, let them know where the child is so that they can rescue him. It is not his destiny to save or destroy humankind, but he should be with the ones who can, and the ones that love him the most.* *But I don't know where he is!* *Yes, you do.* Her hand outstretched and rested against his chest. As sleep finally claimed him, he heard an address whispered to him, followed by the gentle words, *I love you. Trust no one but your heart.* XXXXXXXXXXXXX FROM THE JOURNAL OF FOX MULDER... August 30th, 1997 They took those women just to kill them. They...Jesus, they took Scully just to let her die when they'd finished with her, those bastards! They stole her ova and then used it to create hybrids! Why couldn't they be happy just with that? They stole these womens' chance to conceive and have the lives they deserved to lead. Why did they then have to let them suffer with Cancer? Why did they have to assign fucking doctor's to make sure they all died?! Who was Doctor Scanlon? Are there other doctors like him? There were five others working at that facility, but none of them can be tracked down. Are they all dead now? Killed by the men that employed and used them? Or are they out there, doing more dirty work and destroying more innocent lives in the face of evil? And what of Kurt Crawford? What am I to make of him and the other hybrids at that facility? He told me that they were trying to stop the men doing this, and yet they were products of the project. Does that make him good or bad? Should I trust any of what he told me? They wanted to subvert the project but not destroy the hybrids still in the tanks...Why? I know the Truth is still out there - it has to be. But for now there are too many questions piling up, hindering my search - throwing me off course. And the only thing that scares me right now? That I won't be able to save Scully. These past four years she's covered my back so much...If I lose her to this and the lies, I know I'll have lost myself, and that'll be the time to end the search once and for all - pointless, without closure, and one too many innocent lives lost to the cause. ~~~~~ D.C. GENERAL HOSPITAL WASHINGTON, DC "And here was me thinking I was all ears when it came to this subject!" Doggett sniped, staring aggressively at the supersoldier. "You listen only to what you want to believe, and search for answers to the things you already know," Shannon retorted. The male FBI agent made sure he was firmly sat on the edge of the hospital bed before clasping one of Monica's hands in his and finishing, "Well, why don't you tell us what we're not believing and what we don't know?" "I was the result of a Project developed by the men you know as the Shadow Government to be the new race to conquer this planet when the aliens come to colonise; the product created with genetic material from women that had been abducted and had their ovum removed. We were used to continue the work - produce more of ourselves - but, as lacking in emotions as we may be, we felt it was wrong and had to be stopped. That the women had to be saved. So we begun plans to subvert the project...which is when one of my 'brothers' met Agent Mulder and used him - without his knowledge - to help." "I've read the files and you're repeating everything I know already!" Doggett scoffed. "What you don't know is that the project was not stopped," Crawford quickly replied. "That I and three of my brothers were used to continue. Dr Scanlon was killed, as were two of his colleagues at the Lombard Facility when they became too exposed. However, one doctor was left to watch us whilst two others were promoted in the hierarchy of the project to work with alien foetuses." The red-haired man paused. His brothers - the one that had initially met Mulder and the others on the project that had stood fast to destroying it - had been killed. If he was found here with these people, he knew the same would happen to him. In the end he guessed it didn't matter, though: even if he said no more the end would come, and the men that were doing this would be able to continue their work. "Doctors Pete Jeffers and Joel Spitz." Both agents glanced at each other with questioning frowns - neither recognising the names. "They were given the changed names of James Parenti and Stephen Lev respectively." "The doctors experimenting with alien embryos? Agent Scully's obstetrician..." John practically gasped. "But we already knew he was tampering with DNA - that there was a risk there might be something wrong with Scully's child. There wasn't though - he's normal...human?" He couldn't avoid the level of query that crept into his voice at the end of the sentence. "Yes and no," Shannon sighed. Monica sharply turned a dubious glance on the supersoldier. "Why were the supersoldiers trying to kill him? They destroyed the work those doctors were doing with the embryos...If William was the result of those experiments, why not kill him the second he was born?" None of this made sense and she knew her own questions contradicted each other, but she had to ask them. "I was...I was there in Hope Springs when Scully gave birth...They just turned away..." Her voice faltered and she had to take a shaky breath as the pain in her throat increased to an unbearable level. "Why then come back and try to kill him?" "They..." McMahon paused and chose to change her choice of wording. "*We* never planned to kill the baby. That only occurred when Mulder was brought back from the dead and prevented from becoming one of us." The prophecy Agent Comer had told Scully echoed in Monica's head. And then she remembered the sheriff's voice in Georgia. <'This child will be born'> If they wanted either Mulder or the baby dead, why had they then been so eager for it to be born? "Because we needed to be sure of what he was," McMahon answered the unspoken question. "But when we saw him we thought he was a successful result of the secret experiments to produce a baby supersoldier." "He's far from," Crawford cut in. "Somehow Agent Scully became pregnant through natural conception with Mulder. What the doctors attending to her did not know was that all attempts to change the child were being rejected by its inherited immunity to the alien virus." "On the ship that crashed in Roswell back in '47, there was a passage that described the coming of a child that would be born to either lead or destroy the re- colonisation. It's documented in the MJ file that I gave you." The supersoldier gave the agents a cold stare. "What the inscription didn't say is that the miracle child would be an immune human with two alien- fighting parents." "Maybe it was in the small print," Doggett grumbled. And then, louder, "So, let me get this straight...What you're saying is that William's human, but because of his parents he has alien DNA in him - that that isn't because of the work Dr Parenti was doing? And that he poses a threat to the alien colonisation because of his immunity and the fact that he was a miracle?" "And his powers," Reyes added, a little distantly. "I saw what he could do with his mind - move objects. You wanted to use that for your own devices." "If we had been able to kill Mulder, the prophecy stated we would be able to use the child to lead us...Yes, his powers would have been an important factor. But we all know he doesn't possess those now, don't we? And Mulder is alive. So now he is just an unexplainable miracle with the ability to fight back and resist." "Resist?" Doggett's brow furrowed even more. "It all starts now, and those that survive will only be left with two options: resist or serve. There is no way Mulder and Scully will serve," McMahon sighed, glumly. "And even if it is still believed they're dead, what's to say William won't inherit their resistance?" "But you don't want any of them dead?" Monica fixed McMahon in a serious stare. The supersoldier simply nodded and then looked down at where she had been injured. "And why are you here?" Doggett queried the hybrid. "There's word William may not have lost all his powers after all, and that They are closing in on his location." XXXXXXXXXXXXX No matter how much you want to avoid the pain they cause, sometimes repressed emotions only make things more painful. As a psychology graduate this was a fact Mulder had effectively used when dealing with both criminals and victims alike. When it came to his own feelings and memories from the past eleven months and the loss of his son, however, he just could not open up - scared that voicing the words would make the hurt even more real, and petrified of how his feelings would affect Scully. She already harboured enough guilt...He couldn't break her anymore... And so the darkness had fallen. Trapping. Smothering. Conquering. Leaving him nowhere to turn but to the old friend he knew well as Loneliness. His partner had kept him afloat - had renewed his faith and resolve upon their reunion - and calming her had helped calm him, but turning in circles only ends up with you drilling yourself into a hole in the end. What he had heard out by the truck had started to pile the soil in on top of him. "Please, help me." Which of them had said that? He knew his eyes were begging hers for help, but her lips were moving... This wasn't about melodrama or nervous breakdowns or even longing. They had what they both wanted: each other. ...And that was part of the problem, because the last time they had gotten used to being together, he had had to leave. Separation could never be an option again, but they had to talk, otherwise they would only end up closing off from one another. "I watched his first smile, listened to his first laugh...saw the first pout of that inherited lower lip... and every second it killed me inside because I so badly wanted you there to see him too." Mulder could hear from the choked voice that it was killing her to say the words now - to speak so openly about the greatest pain they both bore. But she was doing it; was voicing the words to help heal the reality. She was doing this for him and for herself... Resetting their give-and-take partnership. "...We can support each other." His eyes fixed on her. Despite their happiness at being together again, the strain of their new situation had gotten the better of them and too many tears had been shed - leaving no room for words. It was time to come to terms with what was happening and what was set to happen, to enjoy the life they could now have and talk. It was time to be them. They embraced for a long time - clutching at one another as if their lives depended on it. "Hold me," he whispered against her neck. "I don't wanna leave again. I don't--...I jus--...I...I wanna stay here, like this...We'll find him, but for now just hold me, please..." "I'll hold you even after we've gotten him back," came her sniffed reply. "As long as you hold me." "Always." Twenty minutes later they were back in the warmth of the motel room, and sat on the bed staring down at the dog- eared photo Mulder still had. "How did you get this?" Scully quietly asked, tapping the picture and then gently stroking a gentle finger down the captured image of their son's face. "When you were caught at the base...Your clothes were taken.... How--?" "When Skinner came to tell me about--...He came to see me in the cell to tell me about what had happened to you and William during my absence," came her partner's explanation, "and he brought that with him. Apparently he was able to get access to the suit they'd taken off of me and retrieve this from my pants' pocket." He glanced up in time to see her silently nod her head. "After he went, I stared at it - just sat there staring until my imagination made us move in the picture - and then I realised something." Dana lifted her head and once again they locked visual contact. "What?" "I realised that maybe...maybe we weren't supposed to have him..." Her sharp intake of breath made him regret his words, but he soldiered ahead nevertheless. "We were gifted with the greatest miracle imaginable...By who or what higher power, I don't know or care to find out... But maybe we were given him to bring us together again, enhance our beliefs or save the planet. Maybe we were only gifted with him to experience those few days of 'normalness'... Maybe we're just not meant to get out of the car," he finished, flatly, glancing down at the photo in her hands. Scully gave an imperceptible nod as she broke eye contact. Life had pitched her so many curveballs since joining the FBI, and she had come to blows with her belief in God on so many occasions, but still - no matter how short-lived - she had survived with the help of miracles everyone else took for granted; her cure from cancer, his rescue from the box car, her return from her abduction, his return from the dead, their forever increasing closeness, William... Even the fact that they were both still alive was a miracle in and of itself. It proved sometimes there was payback for all the bad shit they had to deal with. But what the hell could reward them for dealing with what they had to now? What could possibly warrant them having to deal with so much pain, guilt, anger, confusion and defiance? Right now she just wanted to walk up to God and shove His miracles up where the sun most certainly did shine from. And she was far from ready to accept her partner's musings - no matter how much she also thought he was right. "I don't believe any of that anymore, though," his deep voice suddenly shot out - surprising her and making her abruptly look up. "Wh--" "That's a pile of crap, Scully - why shouldn't we be allowed to live a proper life? We shunned it for so long so that we could help others, so why can't we finally do the same? I want us. I want our son. I want the life I thought I'd never have until you came along. I want us to grow old together in a little cottage overlooking the sea and not have to worry about stopping alien colonisation. God, I want everything and *dammit* I think it's time for us to cash in!" The solid conviction in his tone left her wondering if the man beside her was the same one not forty-five minutes ago she had found cowering in a far corner of the deserted truck trailer; if it was the same uneasy, hyper-sensitive one she'd been travelling with for the last month. She saw the cracks begin to appear in his defensive wall, however, as her partner continued, "I want it all, but out by that truck the possibility of ever getting any of it was pulled out from beneath me, and I couldn't--...I wish you hadn't seen me like that..." The red flare of embarrassment across his face was unmistakeable, even in this dim lighting. "Why?" her only answer. "I don't wanna be like that again...I don't want you going through that. I felt like I was only pretending it would be okay, and when I saw that light and the thrumming sound wouldn't leave me alone..." Scully thought he might slip away from her again as his eyes clouded over. But he quickly snapped back, continuing, "I heard Them say there was no hope for any of us, and I believed it, even after all we've discussed. I couldn't take it...I couldn't--...I miss him, Scully, and I've missed you so much. I want to finally celebrate being together again..." "We have. And we will - every single day," Dana sniffed. "But I need you with me. No more ditching?" "Never." He paused, and then, frowning: "How did you know I was out there?" She didn't answer straight away - wrapping her arms around his neck and tightly embracing him. Dream? Reality? "I just knew." Deep connection? Lost time? From the press of her body against his, he could tell she was trying to make him lie down, but instead he pulled out of the hold a fraction and stared at her. "Tell me." "I don't know...I was asleep and then I dreamt you were there..." She didn't want to get into the details of what else had filled her dreams. "And then I realised you weren't in the bed--" "No," he corrected, shaking his head. "Tell me what happened while I was gone. Tell me what you dream of... What you want..." "Mulder, I don't think you're in any state to--" "Show me yours, I'll show you mine," he half-chuckled, half-sniffed. "Mu--" He didn't say anything, but she cut herself off and nodded in silent agreement. They had already spoken of regret back in Nebraska, addressed the injustice of it all in Rochester, and considered what they would do when colonisation arrived late last night. But this... This was about finally letting the healing truly begin. XXXXXXXXXXXXX 4:06am Tired but far from ready to slow down, let alone stop, John Doggett sped along the quiet street. After further listening to McMahon and Crawford's narratives, it had become clear that not only was it no longer safe for Monica to be at the hospital, but they also needed to get out of the state as soon as possible to pass what they had learned on to Mulder and Scully. So, against medical advice (to the point that in fact no doctors even knew they were leaving) Doggett had helped his partner out of DC General Hospital and then driven them to his house... ...Where they had encountered both Chuck Burks and Alvin Kersh. "We ain't got time for half-assed explanations or screwed up theories!" John had snapped, jumping out of the car and pushing past the men that blocked his path to the house's front door. "So if you feel threatened, get out of town...Don't come running to us for help - we got problems of our own!" "The file's been replaced," Burks shot out. The male agent skidded to a halt and abruptly turned on his heel. "What did you say?" "I've read the contents of what you gave me - every word on every page. Anything referring to likely sites of Magnetite reserves is printed on paper that even my friend at the Smithsonian couldn't determine the production of." Doggett shot the woman that still sat in his car (asleep) a confused frown and then looked back at the short professor. "Meaning?" "Meaning those pages were never there when the file was originally created. The Canadian report on the magnetics experiments is genuine and pertinent to what I believe you're after, but the rest..." Burks trailed off and shook his head. "Are you telling me it's of no use whatsoever?" "Far from...My friend looked further at the pages and discovered that - whilst I had believed the paper wasn't watermarked - deeply ingrained is encoded text. Fortunately he was able to crack it, but..." "'But' what?" "It's written in Navajo, just as the version on the digital tape you mentioned to me was. You'll have to find a proper code talker to translate the whole thing, but my friend said the few words he could pick out referred to co-ordinates of something..." Chuck finished and took a deep breath - proud of his find (no matter how little sense it made) and happy at the prospect that he may have redeemed himself for not jumping at the chance to help before. Wide eyes stared at Chuck as John tried to absorb what he had just been told. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in God only knew how long, his partner had almost been killed, not three hours ago he too had almost been killed by the same supersoldier and now they had to get out of state. Finally he was being offered the ray of light on a silver platter! "Thank you so much, professor," he smiled with a sigh of relief. "Do you have any of that text with you so we can get it translated?" Chuck pulled the envelope that contained the test results and what other little information he'd managed to gain from the inside pocket of his jacket, and then handed it over. "It's all in there." After giving an appreciative nod, Doggett had turned his attention on the deputy director. "And what you doing here...Sir?" "I've been doing some research of my own," Kersh muttered - wishing he'd been more successful getting Follmer to help track down Shannon, "about your friend and some of the people she's conversing with at the bureau. We need to find her." "I--...Get in the car. I'm dropping you both off at the airport - you can explain to me what you know on the way." ~~~~~ And here they were now - having listened and shared information on McMahon with Kersh and disposed of the two men at the nearest airport - turning onto the easily- missable back-road in Connelsville that lead to Jeff Spender's home. "You doin' okay there?" Doggett croaked, glancing over at his partner. Monica nodded and struggled to perform a throat- cleansing swallow, but then silently reached out to touch the growing bruises on his own neck. "Agh, it's nothing," he replied, swatting away her hand and shrugging as he noted the concern that continued to crease her features. "I've been blasted with a shotgun before - you think I can't deal with a little throttling? Anyway, have you still got that case?" Unconvinced that he was feeling as 'OK' as he was letting on, Reyes huffed and then reached for the silver flight case that rested between her knees. She hauled it up onto her lap and then - clicking the metal latches - opened it. Inside were five syringes filled with a dark red/brown compound. Magnetite. "Does that mean I get to play 'Buffy'?" she weakly joked, looking back at John. "'Monica' doesn't quite have the same ring to it, but dusting supersoldier asses could be a lot more dangerous and exhilarating than boring vampires!" "Huh? Di--...When does that medication wear off? Or - more likely - when does it kick in?!" Reyes shook her head pitifully. "All I'm saying is it's like slaying vampires but with syringes." "All I know is it worked on Billy Miles, and hopefully it'll be enough to help til we can get this new information in English or - at least - catch up with Mulder and Scully so that we can fill them in." Doggett grumbled, looking back at the headlight-lit road. "So we're definitely trusting Shannon now?" "No, I'm trusting me and I trust you and that's about it." John paused and considered what he had said before constructing the wording of his next sentences. "If we are to believe what we're being told by DD Kersh, we would be following the idea that Shannon is helping us because she's part of a committee against re- colonisation. If we listen to Professor Burks, one member of said group seems to be out for himself and striking his own deal. Whereas, if we follow what Ms McMahon is saying... Well, that's anyone's guess. So, whose 'truth' is the real one?" "Maybe it's all of the above - an amalgamation?" "Bingo! That's what I'm thinking. But, if that is the case, we're all screwed because even the good guys are helping turn over the planet! We just follow what we think is right, at least it'll be our fault alone if the whole thing goes to hell." Funny how things are easier said than done... XXXXXXXXXXXXX J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING The black limousine pulled into the FBI parking lot and a tall figure emerged from its depths - pulling a pack of cigarettes from its coat pocket as the car screeched away. "What took you so long?" The figure looked over its shoulder and then casually threw away the lit match as he muttered, "Some of us have work to do. Pretending to be on one side whilst really being on the other isn't exactly the easiest thing to do." "You're not the only one, and I've had no complaint from the others." A drag on the cigarette, and then the shadowy figure that had just flown back from Roswell turned round completely to face the Toothpick Man. "No, but then I *am* the only one actually doing something. Have you considered that maybe the other 'fake defectors' are actual defectors pretending to be servers?" The grey-haired supersoldier frowned and then approached. "Who?" "Both of them," came the flat reply. "Bryant let the professor go, but I still don't doubt his allegiance - he did turn over McMahon." "You can believe all you want, but remember we already knew where her interests lay and she is still alive!" There was a pause for thought before the Toothpick Man finally sighed, "Maybe it's time to finish it for good, then." XXXXXXXXXXXXX INTERSTATE 5 SIX DAYS LATER 2:09pm PST Of course, it was his fault again. When wasn't it? Except this time she was happy to blame him. After all, he had been the one to persist until she'd agreed to let him buy the blasted thing for her! "I told you not to get it, but do you ever listen?" she had sniffed after their last impromptu stop in Everett. It had all started five days ago at the ballgame in Minnesota. Everything had been great - nice, peaceful - but shortly after the seven-inning-stretch a hot-dog vendor had walked down the steps by where they sat boasting the best food and biggest 'dogs in the park. "Go on, Sc--...Paula," Mulder had dared - only just remembering to use her fake name, "let me buy you one... See which of us can eat the whole thing!" Casting a doubtful, disgusted eye over the greasy bun the young, just-as-greasy vendor was holding out to her, Scully had shook her head and then turned to face her partner. "You can't be serious! You're telling me that's cooked? I've seen more sightly, edible organs in an open autopsy!" "Players swear by 'em, ma'am," the now-beyond-annoying boy had insisted with a smile. "Yeah, they probably look at them and say 'What the hell's that?'!" The kid had looked offended, but continued to offer her the odious object. Mulder had remained silent, instead turning on his pleading puppy-dog look (knowing all too well, like a little boy, that he could make her do anything with that look). And so she did. They had both eaten the jumbo hotdogs - Scully only just making it past halfway before she'd had to give up and concede him as the winner. ...But then the bastard had a stomach made of steel, didn't he? She - on the other hand - wasn't as fortunate, and just as they were crossing the Minnesota state line she had started to suffer badly from the effects. Every hour since then they had needed to stop the car to let her empty her stomach. And it was all his fault. The sign board welcoming them to Dewey in the state of Washington passed - promising their arrival in their new hometown little more than an hour and a half from now. Mulder looked up at its reflection in the windscreen mirror and smiled before diverting his glance to the weak woman that sat beside him huddled up. Thank God they'd had that talk their last night in St. Paul, otherwise this would have been unbearable and possibly even have pushed him over the edge of sanity permanently; as it stood, though, her mood was reminiscent of the ones she'd had early in their partnership, so he was definitely more happy to deal with this Scully that he understood. "How the hell does that little stomach of yours empty so often anyway?" he wryly commented, trying to maybe pick her up. There was no reply. But then her pale face appeared from behind the veil of auburn hair and her eyes fixed on him - as if truly seeing him for the first time in a long, long while. "After all the injuries and illnesses we've suffered..." Dana paused and shook her head. "Food poisoning just seems mundane in comparison....I know we talked of a normal life, but--" "Somehow the unexplained is more interesting," her partner smirked. "Agent Scully, I do believe I've turned you into something unrecognisable!" Shaking her head yet again, Scully turned away and looked out through the side window. "I'm neither well enough or in a good enough mood to retort to that one. All I'll say is that you're certainly not the same man I was assigned to debunk all those years ago." "What are you trying to say?" With an enigmatic raised brow and lift at the corner of her mouth she let him know there would be no answer to that one and he'd just have to find his own interpretation. XXXXXXXXXXXXX St. PAUL, MINNESOTA 4:27pm CST "And then there was this big almighty flash! I swear I hadn't touched a drop o' the liquor that night!" the insistant voice exclaimed. "And you say you didn't find anything out here when you came to investigate?" "Uh-unh." Briefly glancing over at her partner, who appeared to be struggling with his questioning of the shorter man, Monica Reyes smiled and then continued to investigate the area around the Freightliner truck that was still parked opposite the dingy motel. "Mr Lucke, you say this happened on the seventeenth?" Doggett paused and waited until the motel manager nodded his head. "That was nearly a week ago, sir...Why didn't you call me and my partner until this morning?" Actually, he probably shouldn't complain too much. After collecting Gibson from Spender's house, they'd driven to Charleston, West Virginia and then gotten the soonest plane out from Yeager Airport. The last two days had entailed a steady drive across the country and numerous false travel bookings on buses and planes. They had been about to leave Iowa when the call from the motel owner had come. At least they hadn't been too far away... "Well, see, I put the number down, but then misplaced it and...I don't exactly have all the time in the world to go looking 'round for some number while tryin' to run this place!" Lucke snorted, gesturing toward the handful of rooms. Doggett gave a nod as he inspected the view the manager presented him, and was about to question further when his partner's voice suddenly called out, "Agent Doggett? Would you come look at this, please?" Grateful for the distraction, he turned and moved to where Reyes was crouched on the road. "What is it?" he quietly asked, kneeling beside her. With a cautionary glance over at the manager that still stood on the grassy bank, Monica lowered her voice and pointed at the localised dark patch on the tarmac. "Scorch marks," she simply replied. "And that." Still mindful of the stranger watching them, she slowly lifted the same hand to point at the small, metallic object that had rolled a little way underneath the truck's trailer. XXXXXXXXXXXXX Strughold paced back and forth in the small room, occasionally glancing over at his two aides. Something wasn't right. They were supposed to have been here by now. In fact they should have been here nearly an hour- and-a-half ago so that they could commence yet another meeting to look at the possibilities of stopping colonisation. Now there was an irony, and the short man had to snort at it as he looked out one of the room's few windows. Little over three weeks ago he had been in Sri Lanka overseeing the harvest of the crops that were being used to help the black oil virus. And now here he was conferring with renegade replicants that wanted to shut the whole process down. Ha! If only those other fools of the Syndicate could see him now! Another glance at the other two men in the room. Another glance down at his watch. Yet another ten minutes gone by without a sign of any of them. He knew at least one of the group members was a spy. That was to be expected, of course - these aliens were not beings to deal with lightly, and he'd certainly gained some bad vibes off the tall, dark-haired, smoking one... ...Could he be why the others hadn't shown up yet? Perh-- Suddenly the two aides raised to their feet, and Strughold turned to see them intently staring at the now- open doorway... ...Where the tall, suspicious supersoldier stood. XXXXXXXXXXXXX They were slipping back into their old routine, but it was also a moderated one to accommodate their changed relationship and situation. For that Scully was very grateful. Too much of the past couple months on the road had been surreal, and their lives unrecognisable to a painful extent. Since awaking after their long talk back at St. Paul, though, familiar traits in their attitudes toward life and each other had reappeared, and the intense emotions swallowing them whole had been tended to. "I got your back, partner," she had smiled, stroking a palm down the rough stubble on his cheek. "Even through the insanity? When I should really be locked up in a mental institute?" "Mulder, you were certifiable years ago. I'm keeping you out of those places because I couldn't trust any of those doctors or patients to watch out for you. I've seen what happens when you're left alone for too long." A hesitant pause before - slightly flushed - she wryly finished, "Plus, I may have to confess a small perverse pleasure in being with a nutcase." With a wide grin he'd nodded his head. "I don't want any of this to be hard. I'll happily work for something to make things better, but I don't want it putting you - *us* - in jeopardy, like in the past..." "Let's just get to our new home and let the past rest for a little whilst we do likewise. As for 'jeopardy'? ...Well, that can just kiss my ass and scamper away. It's time to make time for each other." "When Jeopardy's finished, can I kiss your ass?" he'd asked with the old, long-believed-dead glint in his eye - swooping his head down to nuzzle against her neck. "Mul-der...I was trying to be serious!" "I was!" "It's time we opened up so that things can't push us over the edge again..." Mulder had stared at her thoughtfully before asserting, "That includes you." He knew witholding feelings was a habit they would both find hard to get out of, but he also knew how much moreso it would be for her. No matter how many times he was able to break through the emotional barrier and send it crashing to the ground, her guarded heart always managed to rebuild a new one. "No more 'I'm fine's unless you mean it." She was far from 'fine' now and he knew it, but she couldn't seem to fight against the anger she was feeling for him. She guessed in a small way it wasn't his fault she'd eaten the 'dog - she did have a mind of her own, after all, and he'd just been being nice by buying her a treat... And yet... "How much further, Mulder? Trying to sleep in this car isn't exactly helping me...I need to lay down." There'd been no more motel stops since leaving Minnesota - Mulder had driven the whole way, with only a couple short stops so that he could rest his eyes. He'd known she disliked sleeping in the car as much as she'd hated the crummy places he'd taken her to on past cases, but that last comment had certainly come a long way out from left field... So far, it even shocked her. His head snapped round and regarded her for a moment. Seeing her this ill was torture enough for him, but he didn't know if he could deal with this mood. "We *can* stop if you need to? I asked back in Bellevue, but you said as long as I was okay to go on for a little longer, you'd rather get to the new place," he defended, pouting. God, she was being a bitch to him, but she didn't know why. Maybe a hormonal imbalance was to blame - irritated even more by her empty, unstable stomach. But it seemed a weak excuse, considering how little sleep he'd had and how much time to mull things over in that brilliant but ridiculously guilt-ridden brain of his. "I know. I'm sorry," Dana apologised, moving in her seat so that she could lean against him. "I just--...This sickness has completely knocked everything out of me, and...I don't know...Something - beyond being on the run - doesn't feel right...or is that just me?" Giving a nod of agreement, Mulder chanced taking his eyes off the road yet again to look at her. He felt his blood run cold, though, as he watched her reach up a hand to rub the back of her neck. Where the chip was... It had been a primary cause of concern for him since they'd embarked on this journey - fearful of how their pursuers could use it to either track them down or make her ill again - but he hadn't thought (perhaps too blinded by wishful thinking) that it would have been used yet. Maybe there really wasn't time to stop and get out of the car after all. XXXXXXXXXXXXX UNIVERSITY OF MARYLAND COLLEGE PARK "Where are they?" Strughold seethed through grit teeth. "Where are the rest?" The supersoldier entered the room, closed the door behind him, and then gave a nod to one of the aides. A signal. One second later, the blonde-haired aide turned, sharply drew his silencer-equipped pistol and blew out the unsuspecting brain of the man beside him. "Wha--" "Comrade Strughold, you were already suspicious of me. You can't tell me you're surprised?" the tall, cigarette- smoking supersoldier remarked casually. "I knew none of you could be trusted." Not moving from where he stood, the Sri Lankan glanced over at the bloodied, lifeless body that lay in a crumpled heap at the end of the room. "That dealing with any of you would be like a child playing with fire." "And yet still you're here! There's an irony..." The supersoldier's smug grin was so vomit-inducing, Strughold could almost imagine it being more effective as a murder weapon than the gun used to take down one of his goons. "You won't win. You can't. Mankind has established itself on this planet for millions of years. We will fight for it." "That's one of your many failures, though... You humans are so egotistical you believe this is yours and that your little toy guns and tanks and vaccines can save you - destroy us," the Smoker barked, advancing on the older, shorter man. "But what you forget is that we were here first, have better technology, are almost completely invincible" - a cold hand reached up and pressed against Strnghold's oesophagus - "and can crush you or infect you as we choose." With ease, the Sri Lankan's body was lifted one-handedly into the air - his face beginning to brighten in redness and his eyes beginning to bulge as the hand around his throat started to squeeze. The traitor goon just stood still and watched. "Those we can't infect - like your precious Fox Mulder and the other immune ones - will be easy enough to hunt down and destroy." "Fo--...Mul-der al'eady de--" "From what I've found and learned, he and that bitch of his may be far from." Strughold's eyebrows sharply raised and his eyes filled with shock as the words sank in. Not even those fighting the good fight had known that...If the replicants taking over knew, that could only result in a lot of trouble. Maybe that was why a move had been made now to dispose of the rebels. Blood began to pour from Strughold's nose, and his feet kicked helplessly at the air as he regained control of his senses and tried desperately to gasp for breath - all in vain. "Th-Th-ey'll...w--...Sp-spread immu-...-munity... Vaccine..." Those would be the ex-Conspiracy member's last words as the sound of cracking bones echoed in his heartbeat- filled eardrums. "It's just a shame not all of us share the same beautiful vision of re-colonisation, and that you won't be there to see it!" A sweat never breaking out on his face, the Smoker used the index and middle fingers of his left hand to penetrate straight into Strughold's eye sockets, whilst the grip on his throat increased so much that the hand sliced through and separated the head from the torso that sharply dropped to the floor. Still the second aide did not move. Nor did he blink once at the sight of the supersoldier holding onto Comrade Strughold's head as if it were a bowling ball. "One down." XXXXXXXXXXXXX TO BE CONTINUED...