TITLE: 'The Beginning And The End' (parts 16-18 of ??) AUTHOR: XSketch (XSketch@hotmail.com) WEBSITE: http://thesketchfiles.bravehost.com DISCLAIMER: See part 1 for all disclaimers. --------------------------------------------------- "It had already been difficult for her...every day had been a battle for hope... Then, when they found Fox out on that cold ground d--...When Dana saw his dead body lying there, I think the final thread broke. I'd always known that their relationship had run deep - beyond work partners and best friends - especially after I learnt about her miraculous pregnancy. But I don't think it was until I opened my front door to see her standing there with such a lost, desperate look on her face and in her eyes that I began to truly see how deep it really went... Funny thing is I think it was even more special than the one with my husband, in a way..." Margaret Scully sighed and slightly shrugged her shoulders - pausing her story so that she could take a sip of coffee from the mug she clasped in both hands. Tara - who sat at the opposite side of the table, having put her son to bed ten minutes earlier - gave a slow nod of understanding and then took a sip of her own drink. "She told me that they'd tried IVF with eggs Fox had managed to save.... She told me about stuff they'd been through together she'd never have told me before," Maggie continued. "...She never told me straight out who the father of her baby was, but there really wasn't much need to... And when Fox was resurrected three months after his funeral at St. Christopher's Church in Raleigh--" She paused briefly as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, my God...It was just--...I mean...It was like the beginning of a whole new book for them...I--" "But how did they get from there to Mulder having to leave?" Tara queried, a little hesitantly. Maggie gave a small snort of laughter as she gently placed the half-full mug down on the table-top. "I really don't understand any of it - as I told Agent Reyes, I don't think even Dana or Fox truly understand what's happening... All I know is that Fox's life was threatened and he had to leave alone so that William and Dana would be safe..." "Why didn't Dana go with him?" "Look, *I don't know!*" Maggie sharply cried out, swinging out a frustrated arm and knocking over her cup. "Why don't you just stop asking these questions I can't answer? Why can't They just leave them alone? Why--" She faltered as her body wracked with sobs that she had kept bottled up for too long. "W-W-Why can't they leave...l-leave everyone al-lone?" Tara quickly got off her chair (ignoring the hot liquid that had spilled onto the wooden table top and was now slowly dripping onto the floor) and moved to help calm Maggie down. It had been building up - layer upon layer - since Mulder's abduction... She'd always tried to be strong for her daughter, for her family and for herself. She'd shed a tear after learning about what Dana had done with William, but again she had tried like hell to pretend that it would all eventually work itself out. It had finally become too much, though: she'd lost far too much, it was time to stop pretending and have somebody try and be strong for her for a change - that was what Bill didn't and couldn't understand... That she wasn't drifting off into her own little world on purpose; she just wanted things back to how they had been before... bef-- ...Hell, she didn't know how far back it went. All she knew anymore, amongst the questions and the conspiracy theories and the deaths, was that she wanted her grandson, daughter, near-son-in-law and *life* back! "If he hadn't gone a-away, she'd have ke-kept Wi-W-William!" Maggie choked against Tara's shoulder. "Why didn't sh-she go away with him sooner? Then w-we wouldn't have been left like this!" XXXXXXXXXXXXX "*Mulder!*" Scully's shrill cry ripped through the air as she burst out the motel room door and ran as fast as her short legs could carry her to the body that had rolled to the bottom of the small, grassy embankment - one hand tightly gripped around the stock of her gun. She didn't see the police car suddenly speed away or the motel owner's sleepy face peer out of his room window... All her eyes could focus on was the motionless figure lying ahead of her, and as she approached nearer it was suddenly like being back in those woods in Montana when he had been returned from his abduction. 'How bad is he? How bad is he hurt?' 'It's too late.' She quickly knelt down at his side, lay the gun on the ground by her, turned him over so that he rested in her lap and then checked for any injuries or even radiation burns. There was nothing, save for a small, bleeding scratch on his forehead. "Mulder?" she gently whispered, resting a tender palm against one of his cheeks - her fear tampered, but only slightly all the time he kept his eyes shut and didn't respond. "*Mulder*?" His eyes slowly but surely fluttered open and looked up at her. "Is...Is Jeremiah still a bullfrog?" he asked, a little groggily. Dana faltered, gave a frown of confusion as her mouth slightly opened - unsure of what to say (worried that that cut on his head was more serious than it looked) - but then gave an affectionate smile as she shook her head and replied, "No...He's a major pain in the ass!" "Oh," came Mulder's reply as his eyes slipped shut briefly. "So, I'm not dead?" "Far from..." A pause and then, "Thank God... But you've got a little knock there on your head. Jesus, Mulder, what happened?" He sat up - with her assistance - and then subconsciously reached up to touch the painful bump just above his right eye. "I don't know..." he groaned, glancing around him and then spotting the rock protruding from the ground near where he sat. "...I heard arguing...One of 'em was a cop...And then I saw the flash and tried to jump outta the way - must of knocked myself out on that rock..." His left hand outstretched to point at his find. He was just about to continue with his vague explanation of what he remembered, when he suddenly stared into her eyes with a hint of worry. "Are you alright?" "You ditched me, Mulder... How many more times you gonna break that promise? Of course, I'm alright." Dana combed a hand through his hair and then glanced over her shoulder at the large truck still parked on the roadside. "Was it the bl--" "Is he okay?" Both Mulder and Scully turned to see the motel owner approaching. "Want me to call 9-1-1?" "No. No, he's okay... He...uh...He tripped over his big feet, that's all," Dana attempted to dismissively reply. Closer the man came, though - struggling to tie the belt on his dressing gown - until he stopped next to where both fugitive agents had raised back to their feet and glanced up at the parked vehicle. "D'you see a large flash of light?" he queried, distantly. "I was watching the TV an' then all of a sudden everythin' went wiggy... 'Minds me of a story some guy was tellin' at the local bar a couple days ago... Course, he was as drunk as a fart, but - wow - did he have a vivid imagination about aliens and shit..." What was it going to take to get rid of him? "D'you believe any of that mumbo-jumbo?" he went on. There was an uneasy pause as Mulder and Scully glanced at each other - neither knowing how to respond. "Nah, didn't think so - you looks like normal folk... Anyhow, do ya know what that flash were?" the shorter man tirelessly continued... It appeared that it wouldn't have mattered if they were standing there or not. "Maybe it was a helicopter flying overhead," Mulder offered, rubbing his forehead and looking down at his partner before awkwardly shooting a wary glance back at the road. She seemed worried about his injury, but all he cared about at this moment was whose body they might find irradiated on the other side of the truck. Being chased by the supersoldiers was one thing, but being hunted down by the black oil was quite another... ...Were they really even two seperate things? It was in that instant that Mulder felt an even heavier load than ever before being dumped on his shoulders (possibly even twice that for what he didn't want Scully to share - even though he knew she would insist). \\DECEMBER 22nd, 2012 - THE DATE SET FOR MOBILIZATION OF ALIEN FORCES WHICH CULMINATES IN THE COMPLETE AND FINAL OVERTHROW OF CIVILIAN AND MILITARY RESOURCE.// He had read the words; had felt the final piece of resolve that had already been crumbling over the months away from Scully in New Mexico finally evaporate into nothingness...Had finally learnt the Truth he had been chasing after for his whole life and it was *far* from what he wanted... As well as surviving now and finding a way for Scully, himself and his son - wherever he be - to have a future, as he looked at that truck and wondered if the black oil was spreading even more quickly than imaginable, Mulder realised that they had to live so that they could fight for the future of all Mankind...That sounded rather egotistical - thinking that it was up to them to be the Earth's saviours - but to some degree it was true, and whilst he had partially known it before as they lay together in the Roswell motel and she proved to him that there really was hope no matter what... 'Why would I give up? Mulder, why would I give up if you won't?' ...it was now that he fully felt the responsibilty kick in, and- "Mulder?" -it scared him a little bit- "*Mulder!* Dammit, don't do this to me again!" -but he was ready. "...Please...Not now..." His eyes opened once again...For some reason he was back on the ground and she was leaning over him with the most fear and panic on her face he remembered ever seeing in their nine years together. He stared at her for a moment and then glanced to her side to see that the motel owner had gone back to his cabin. "Whuh-...Ugh... What happened?" he quizzed with a groan. "You scared the living crap out of me, Mulder...*Again* - twice in the last five minutes has to be your new record! God..." She sighed and shook her head as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his body and pulled him into a hug - the anger that had been in her voice at the start of the sentence slowly melting away and turning into relief. "One minute you were standing there...The next thing I know I turn 'round after Mister -Whatever-His-Name-Is has gone and you're unresponsive on the ground!" she continued, helping him to stand up. "How do you know I was unr--..." He had to pause as a wave of pain engulfed his head. "Whose to say I wasn't just waiting for you to jump on me?" "No joking, Mulder! Come on, let's get back to the room and get that wound cleaned," she breathed. He awkwardly went with her, but then suddenly and purposefully turned back to face the parked truck. "What about the body?" he asked, not looking at her. "We--" Mulder's voice suddenly cut off as he realised that his partner had stopped walking, and her body had frozen still. When he turned back to look at her her expression was full of confused concern. "Mul-der, we... What do you mean?" "What do you mean 'What do you mean'? There was a flash ...A--" "There was nothing there...We checked, just before the guy went back because he got too curious and wanted to see if there was anything there - not ready to listen to your helicopter explanation." "We did? When?" It was difficult to tell if the concern or confusion was growing on her face as her brow furrowed deeper and her eyes opened slightly wider. "Mul--...You don't remember? You were standing right there...And then..." She paused as she noticed the completely blank expression on his face, then shook her head as if shaking the rest of the sentence out of her mind and pulled on his arm as she continued toward their motel room. "Come on, I want a proper look at that bump." Mulder would have argued...Tried to investigate to answer the questions that had been banging away in his head for the last twenty minutes (Had it really been that long since he had come out here? It seemed like very little over half that...) and query why she wasn't worried about what had really caused that sudden burst of light...But the pain radiating from the seemingly minor wound on his forehead stabbed at all his senses and left him unable to resist. He followed her...Making a mental note to himself to come back out later... XXXXXXXXXXXXX D.C GENERAL HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON D.C 11:06pm EST Eyes focused and stared at the hospital without blinking for several long minutes - watching as Jeffrey Spender and Gibson Praise drove away and Doggett made his way back into the building. The dark figure stood motionless for another ten minutes before stepping out of the shadows and moving toward the main entrance. ~~~~~ "What did you talk about?" Monica Reyes' strained, sleepy voice asked as her partner re-entered her room. "Huh?" "You and Spender?" "Don't tell me you can read minds as well?!" Doggett snorted, taking his seat back by her bedside. Reyes gave a weak smile and then slow shake of her head. "No, " she chuckled, "there's something called 'glass' in my room door that allows me to see what's happening outside... I saw you two talking out there before you walked off... So?" "It was nothing...At least nothing you need to worry about right now," he assured, a little hesitantly - knowing that here was no place to talk about the arrangements they were making for when she got out. She looked at him, as if trying to read his features for what he could not and would not say as she had seen Mulder and Scully successfully do in the short time she had spent with them before Mulder had had to disappear. It seemed that she and her partner weren't that attuned to each other yet, though, so she just left the topic alone - guessing that he must have his reasons. ~~~~~ The corridors of the hospital were deserted and quiet - which was to be expected considering the time. There were a couple of people milling about along the corridor that led to Special Agent Reyes' room, and it was likely that at least one or two of them was specifically keeping an eye on that room, but the figure was neither surprised nor too concerned as it approached its destination. ~~~~~ "So, what do you wanna talk about?" Monica asked - struggling to talk and not yawn. Doggett shot a raised eyebrow in her direction and then shook his head. "Nothing..." he yawned. "First comes sl--" He was cut off as the room door clicked open. Immediately he leapt to his feet and stood protectively in front of his partner's bed...Only to find himself facing the tall figure of Shannon McMahon. "Am I the only one having a bad case of deja vu?" he snorted. XXXXXXXXXXXXX Tara paced back and forth, glancing in through the open doorway to the guest room every so often at the exhausted figure that had finally crashed out on the bed after taking some Valium. Everyone had a breaking point where there was no turning back...What if Maggie had finally reached that point? How would Tara explain it all to Bill when he returned home? XXXXXXXXXXXXX "I just wanted to check that everybody was okay...I heard about what happened," McMahon explained, craning her neck so that she could look over Doggett's shoulder at the figure that lay in the bed. "Billy Miles is far from ready to give up, though." "Well, thanks very much for the warm greeting and pleasantries, but I think we've heard enough theories and threats to deal with for the next few years, so leave it at that and leave us alone," John unexpectedly snapped, resting his hands on his hips. "Look, one minute you're here, the next minute you're not... We have no idea if you're trying to help or trick us... What's it gonna take to get a straight forward explanation as to what's going on, or at least some proper answers to our questions? When and where's this all gonna end?" McMahon stared at John, and seemed to actually be considering the questions very heavily. Maybe it *was* time to give them something more concrete to work with. It had only been just over four weeks since the X-Files had been shut down, Mulder and Scully had become fugitives, and Doggett and Reyes had been forced to watch their backs more vigourously... Yet it seemed like a lifetime - so much and so little all happening at the same time. Her elusive and cryptic clues had done nothing to help in the way she had hoped them to without coming outright and risking her own survival even further...and, not only was the planet's time running short: those that could help at least postpone the final date of recolonisation were slowly losing interest (only becoming tediated by the whole thing). She broke eye contact and glanced down at the floor as his thoughts confirmed to her exactly what she had feared. Meanwhile, all the two FBI agents could do was wait for an answer - be that in the form of the supersoldier leaving the room, a verbal brush off, or information about Billy Miles and the others that were out to kill them. XXXXXXXXXXXXX "Scully, it's nothing - honestly! God knows I've had a lot worse in the past" - He couldn't stop himself from thinking back to when he had been attacked by Billy Miles at Doctor Parenti's office and she had had to suture up the large gash on his head that had been a LOT worse than what he now had - "and I'm still here to tell the tales, aren't I?" Mulder called out from the bathroom, where he stood examining the small head wound in the mirror above the sink. "Stop fussing...It's just a scratch--" "A scratch that caused you to have a temporary blackout *twice*," Scully amended, entering the doorway and grabbing a hold on his arm. "Now, come on, lay on the bed so I can have a proper look." He gave her a leering smile before a little reluctantly following her. Half a minute later he was on his back, staring up at her as she leaned over him with a cold, wet towel in one hand (the other carefully brushing his hair away from his forehead). "I could get used to this doctor-patient relationship... Most guys have to get their women to dress up...I got the real thing," he joked. "So, what is Doctor Scully's diagnosis? Is it fatal?" Dana shook her head and sat back - trying not to smile. He'd made that crack back when they had first become sexual partners as well as best friends and work colleagues - just a few short weeks before his abduction. She wasn't sure if he'd forgotten or was just recycling old material. Either way, it proved yet again that only Fox Mulder could turn the smallest thing into a joke or innuendo. "Doctor Scully says that her patient shouldn't believe everything he sees or reads in those lewd magazines of his," she countered, dryly. "As for your head, you're right: it doesn't look serious, but maybe you've got some kind of cranial fracture or brain haemorrhaging... There's got to be a reason for your blackouts." The worry was evident on her face and the smile faded from his own. Normally this would have been the time when she would insist on booking him in for an EEG or X-Ray at the nearest hospital...He would have gone along now, but - despite the new identities that had been created at break-neck speed for them by the Gunmens' associates (as well as the all-important fake medical backgrounds to accompany those) - they both knew there was no way they could take such a risk by visiting the hospital just yet. "I'm okay," he assured, gently, reaching out a hand to clasp one of hers as she looked down at the floor. "Believe me. I don't think I blacked-out as such as some unused hours of sleep were knocked back into me..." She looked back up and gave a weak smile. "Now, fill me in on what you found out there," he continued, sitting up slightly. "I told you already: there was nothing," she insisted, but he could see her earlier exclamation of 'It's none of our business' tugging at her expression. "Mr... Mr Lucke, I think his name was... He moved to the road before I had chance to stop him...I'd expected to find what you had - a burnt body - but there was nothing at all. That was when Mr Lucke decided to put it down to your helicopter theory and wandered off. The next thing I knew I turned around and you were laying flat on your back again... I was so scared that something had happened to you, Mulder, and now I feel as if the unanswered questions are just piling up on top of each other - we have no idea what happened out by that truck and no idea why you passed out. And it's not even as if we can..." Dana trailed off - realising that she had stopped making much sense a while ago - and then reached over to dab the cold towel against his cut. "I..." She paused and glanced away briefly before turning back to her task - not making eye-contact with him. "I told him to call John's cell - said that he was a federal officer and would investigate as a side assignment..." Mulder moved the hand that had been clasping hers up to hold the arm she was using to clean his wound still and continued to stare at her. He wasn't entirely sure if she had done the right or wrong thing, but either way, what he really wanted to know was as to if it was safe for them to stay here until tomorrow. Not knowing the answers wasn't reason enough, though, for her to suffer. ...If only she would just look at him... "Scully?" There was a moment of hesitation, and it took his voice whispering her name again to make her stare into his eyes. "You're still up for the game tomorrow, aren't you?" he half-smiled - making the decision on the spot that they *would* stay. She looked a little puzzled for a moment, but then the gentle expression on his face warmed her and elicited a small smile, which was then followed by a nod as her eyes briefly slipped shut. "Good. I'm sure if Agent Doggett finds anything, maybe somehow we'll hear something about it," Mulder continued after a moment (secretly keeping his fingers crossed that the Gunmen's friends had managed to pass on his message to John and Monica in DC). "If it's important enough, he'll find a way..." "What if it--...What if it's happening early?" Scully hesitated. "What if it's starting now, and we're not even prepared?" "You think we're unprepared?" Pause. "You think we're not ready to go down swinging? I'll be there up front and centre if it means protecting you and William... Even if it means throwing myself down on the ground and knocking myself out on a little rock again!" He tried to give a small chuckle, but it came out weaker than he would have liked. "Look, I can't explain what's going on here, but you never know - maybe it *was* a helicopter..." "What I meant was, what if it starts and we've not found a way to even counteract it? It's almost a form of biological warfare, Mulder... There *has* to be a way to stop it--" "And we will find that way, but if it's starting now we'll just have to leave your boring science, skip straight ahead to my wild theories and ready our fists and guns..." "You always get your ass kicked, Mulder!" Scully smirked. "You really think you'll beat them?" He was going to crack a joke, but he felt the seriousness creeping into his expression and voice as he told her sincerely, "Scully, even if I'm struck down straight away, at least I'll have delayed them getting to you a tiny bit... You've saved my whooped ass so many times in the past - like now..." He paused and pointed at the towel she still held in her hand against his forehead. "I... We..." The right words eluded him... In fact, there were no words that could convey even a fraction of what he felt. There had to be a way to avoid going down that dead-end path... She saved him the trouble by pulling the towel from his head, glancing at the now clean, slightly bruised bump there and then giving a satisfied nod of her head. "You're clear," she sighed. "But if you have any headaches or black out again, I'm taking you to the hospital straight away." She was back to her bossy self, and Mulder knew that when she was like that, there was little point arguing with her, so he nodded once and then lightly patted the space on the mattress beside him. "Come on," he invited, "let's call an early night... We gotta be out of here early in the morning, so we'd better catch up on some rest." XXXXXXXXXXXXX "You'll have to start preparing to leave as soon as we get back, then," Spender sighed, not looking away from the road as he and Gibson took the long drive back to Connelsville. "Agent Doggett might not be picking you up for another couple of days, but we need to take all precautions..." Praise shot a glance at Spender but did not answer. XXXXXXXXXXXXX 'What if it's starting early?' Scully's earlier voiced fear played over and over in her head as she lay on the bed with Mulder spooned up against her back (his arms and legs wrapping themselves around her and the palms of his hands gently pressing against her abdomen) and stared at the window. She didn't want to dwell on it - the rational part of her brain told her it just made her weak...destroyed the independent persona she had created throughout her career - but it just kept nagging at her. ...And besides, she didn't feel weak when she was in his arms or by his side....As long as she was with him she had learnt that she could face just about anything... 'You think we're not ready to go down swinging? I'll be there up front and centre if it means protecting you and William.' He'd had such conviction in his voice when he had told her that... They'd come so far in their partnership and their own lives that it was difficult to remember the time when they had looked out for each others' back simply because that was their job, and she knew their true quest - above looking for the Truth and a way to fight against it - was to make sure they could spend their lives together (be that with William or not). 'What if it starts and we've not found a way to even counteract it?' It seemed the thought was far from letting her sleep. She *had* to have the answers... She had to find a logical way of approaching this. She-- His arms tightened around her, a low groan escaped through his lips (making his chest vibrate against her back), and that was when the thought decided to leave her alone - at least for the time being. They still had ten years to work this out if the information was to be believed, and if the aliens chose to take over the world earlier, she wasn't about to sit idly by: she would be there up front and centre right by Mulder's side (not behind as he seemed to think she would be), and God knew she was ready to do serious damage to anything that tried stopping them having a life together after all they had had to endure... ...Especially if she was wearing her high heels... XXXXXXXXXXXXX McMahon opened her mouth to speak, but then paused for a moment and turned her head slightly - as if sensing something. "Well?" Doggett pushed for an explanation. "You're being watched," the supersoldier stated slowly - trying to keep her voice low. "We know that...We've been watching that camera probably more than it's been watching us," came John's rebuke. "But there's gotta be something you can tell us to keep us going that isn't too damning?" "No...Not just the camera... You were being watched... when you were outside...speaking to...to...Agent Spender..." Shannon's head sharply turned and glanced at the room's closed exit. "He...He knows... He's here!" "Who?" Monica asked. But before a reply could be given the door was pushed open so hard that it flew off its hinges... XXXXXXXXXXXXX The groan rumbled up from his chest as his arms tightened around his partner. His breaths shortened and sweat rapidly left his body as he slept. For once it wasn't his dreams that were haunting him, though... *He had seen something...* Tonight, as Fox Mulder tried to sleep, he started to remember... *It had spoken to him* ....Remembering what had happened out by the truck... XXXXXXXXXXXXX Doggett and Reyes sharply turned to see the familiar figure of Billy Miles standing still in the doorway, staring straight back at them. XXXXXXXXXXXXX 'Thumping. 'A continuous thumping. 'It pulses in and out of my ears...In and out of my head, calling to me and offering me the truths to questions I haven't even thought to ask yet...I follow it...I don't know where to, and I can't see the path ahead because of the white light that blinds my vision... But I *must* go with it as surely as a moth must follow the flame because it's what I've been looking for all this time, isn't it? What we've sacrificed so much for? And if I want to protect you - be your knight in shining armour - mustn't I bear some knowledge and wisdom to guide me? 'God, what am I saying? *You* guide me, no matter what... And yet...still the deep thrumming pounds through my veins. Still I listen to it and trust it - ignoring the warning given about the final thing I must sacrifice to hold it in my hands. '...No...Not *that*. I'll give my life before I'm made to give up that! 'This isn't a dream, is it? 'I'm cold and I can see the outline of the two figures as they argue. Where are your arms? Why aren't you with me to guide me away? Please don't say they've taken you again. Pl-- 'No! It's all in my head. It's a trick so that I let go. 'Please, Scully, protect me from their lies! Protect me...Please, protect me from myself!' XXXXXXXXXXXXX Dust particles hovered and swam lazily in the cool blackness that filled the Roswell motel room (which had remained unoccupied for the past four weeks). So silent was it that if you listened carefully enough you might be able to just hear the whispers of ghosts from years gone by bouncing off those tiny, fragile flecks of dust. But suddenly the air was shattered and chaos erupted as the only entrance was kicked down and three large men dressed in black SWAT team garb - brandishing assault rifles - slammed into the room. Spreading out, they turned over every piece of furniture in sight as the beams from their flashlights ripped through the dark like swords. They found nobody there. Four minutes later two of the military men marched back outside. It took another minute for the colleague that had been searching the bathroom to reappear...with something clasped in his right hand. "This is the only thing we found, sir," he said robotically - handing the item over to the shadowed figure that stood in front of him. "It was on the bathroom floor." "Good work." A pause and then, "Return to base and await further orders." As the team he had assembled returned to their armoured vehicles and then drove away, the mysterious figure stared with pride at the wallet he beheld in his bony hand. Then, still smiling, he returned to his own parked car. The hunt was on. ...But not before he'd thrown the remains of his cigarette out of the open car window. XXXXXXXXXXXXX "What th--" It was all John Doggett could think to say as he stared at the cold, emotionless face of Billy Miles. They'd already had one run in with him today and had seen all too well what he was capable of - hell, it was the reason they were here with Monica restricted to the hospital bed! At least then they had the opportunity for escape, though. Now, however, they were trapped in the small room five floors up with only one exit. Weapons were useless. Calling for help was useless. One of the supersoldier's hands raised into the air and clenched into a fist as he neared the male agent. Shortly after it started its fast, sharp descent...until something suddenly blocked its path and wrapped around his wrist. "We need them," Shannon McMahon stated flatly to Miles. "We need them alive. If the Project is to continue and we wish to track down the child...with Mulder and Scully now dead, we must preserve what resources we can and use them to the best of our abilities..." Either McMahon had said exactly the *wrong* thing, or Billy hadn't even been paying her any attention because his free arm just swung 'round and surged through her body until his hand stuck out the other side. The expression on his stoic face never changing, he made one dramatic tug upwards and then threw the limp body to the ground as he continued his advance on the two helpless FBI agents. He knew McMahon wasn't dead, so he only had a short amount of time to... ...clear up loose ends... With a brief glance at the fallen body of his friend from years gone by, Doggett let out a rebellious growl and then made a charge at the supersoldier. He knew it would be a pointless move, but he wasn't about to die whilst not doing anything. His body rammed into Miles as fast as he could and there was a small amount of give as his opponent took a slightly unsteady step backwards, but then one rough, strong hand was wrapping itself around his throat and his feet left the floor. "John!" The voice was slightly muffled as the blood pounded in his ears, but he knew it was his partner desperately calling his name. "Let him go!" It was becoming more distant, and he only just made out the sound of something metallic clanging to the floor that he was no longer standing on (his muddled brain interpreting it that Monica had attempted to get out of bed and knocked something over in the process). ...Slipping away...Everything was fading, but even as he felt his eyes beginning to bulge, John never stopped staring at Billy Miles. The coldness. The determination. The-- Suddenly something happened and Miles begun to shake vigorously - his face contorting into an expression of raw panic and pain. The hand around Doggett's neck loosened and he fell to the floor with a thud that returned the world to him. He looked up just in time to see that the supersoldier's skin had turned the familiar metallic silver before Miles exploded into a cloud of dust. "John!" Reyes collapsed to her knees beside her partner and they both turned their heads to look at the room's exit, where the red-haired orderly Doggett had encountered in the basement earlier stood. "What th--" XXXXXXXXXXXXX The dream isn't the same anymore. No swirling darkness. No painful inability to breath. No chance of losing the battle. In the comfort of Mulder's arms Dana has regained what she had lost over the past eleven months: safety, sanity, the reason to never give up on miracles, the sense of belonging... life. And right now is no different as she slips into sleep with the feel of his warm breath against her ear and warm body wrapped around her own. Tonight it starts in a white-painted two-storey house (maybe a little too Arcardia Falls for her complete liking, but anyway...) and she's standing in the kitchen when the familiar tall, unwavering figure of her husband steps out and stops behind her. His warm arms wrap around her waist - his head lowering so that he can rest his chin on her shoulder. *I don't care how many times you assure me otherwise, I still think we should ban you from going near the knives...If we were to have an argument I'd be at a serious disadvantage...you'd know where to stick them to cause the most pain,* he smirks against her ear. Her dream-self lifts the cursory eyebrow and her head tilts ever so slightly to the side so that he has more access to kiss her neck. *Mm...Were you...were you planning on us having many rows?* she queries, putting down the carving knife she has been preparing dinner with. There is a pause before he places another soft kiss on the side of her neck and replies, *Only if we can have lots of great make-up sex after.* He says it jokingly, but it doesn't take long for his voice to soften. *In all the years we've been together we've never had a row...and, to be honest, as 'normal' as I know you still wish we were, I'm quite happy where I am - where we are, thank you very much. But since you stopped working at the hospital I live in the fear that those lovely hands of yours are itching to use your 'trigger-happy scalpel' - as Skinner once so eloquently put it - again, and you'll just reach for whatever's available.* An elbow raises to playfully nudge him in the ribs and then she turns in the circle of his arms so that she is facing him. *There's only one thing I want to reach for, and he's only available to me...* *Really? Give me a clue.* Their lips are just about to crash together when the young child's voice suddenly catches their attention. *Mommy! Daddy! Come look outside!* Mulder's arms slide away from her body and the cold immediately stabs at her. She glances down at where his hands had rested and then looks over at the eleven-year old boy. *What is it, sweetie?* *Your friends came to play!* One of his hands raise to point out through the large, glass sliding doors that lead out into the back yard. His mother is too scared to look in that direction at first - scared of what she knows in the back of her mind will be out there - but he repeats the five words more urgently and she has no option but to look. What she sees should be enough to wake her up out of the dream that now appears to have evolved into a nightmare... but she remains in slumber - part of her trapped inside this alternate reality, as if she's died and gone to hell. She knows it's not real, but... The sky outside suddenly darkens and turns blood-red - orange dust filling the air around them with its putrid smell. ...And then she sees it: the large shadow of the spaceship that looms over their idyllic abode. Unable to look any longer, Dana turns to look back at their son...only to see him making his way out onto the back deck. *William!* she screams...unable to move from where she is standing. *Stop him, Mul--* Her shrill cry cuts off as she turns in time to watch Mulder crumple to the floor and then quickly cower into the corner of the room where he clutches onto his knees, whispering *I can't help...I heard them - saw them... Thumping in my head telling me the truth - I can't ignore it...Make it stop, Scully...I can see the outline of the two figures as they argue...Where are your arms? Why aren't you with me to guide me away? Please don't say they've taken you again...God, the continuous thumping...Please, Scully, protect me from their lies! Protect me...Please, protect me from myself!* *Mulder?* He's pleading for her, but as her shaky voice calls to him she realises that he can't hear her...can't see her... *Mul--* Suddenly he disappears, the room and house and world disappear, and she finds herself standing out by the truck, listening to the two arguing voices Mulder had left the motel room in the waking world to investigate. Mulder... He's there, cautiously edging past the cab of the Freightliner truck and listening intently to the argument...still not seeing her. Why can't she wake up? Why-- *Defector!* The cold, familiar voice of the alien bounty hunter rings in Dana's ears and she cautiously moves toward the two figures - unsure if they can see her, even though her partner can't. *You think you can run? You think you can outrun Us? We are everywhere and you had a chance to be a part of that--* *I've been your whipping boy for far too long...All these years I've let you take me without argument - let you study my immunity so that you can try to develop a stronger virus...I even let you turn me into one of those...those *things*, but I won't let you make me do *that* to my old friends...my family...If I had known-- ...Well, I mean I did, but not so soon...Maybe another fifty or so years...Not *then*!* *Your friends? You had no friends - that was why you wanted to be Us. Why you had no one to turn to.* There was fearful hesitation as the second man mutters, *I know it's coming earlier than you told those men... but you've gotta kill the One and his parents first so that no immunity or miracles can stand in your way...You got rid of the parents, and that's fine by me, but... Look, I may be extra strong and have something inside me that makes me want to kill the human race...but a little boy? What harm can he do to a mighty army like yours? Huh?* *He wasn't supposed to be,* the bounty hunter responded, matter-of-factly. *He gives your people Hope. Shouldn't that be enough reason?* Scully feels her blood run cold and diverts her eyes away from the scene being played out in front of her to stare at her partner - whose own eyes are now shining with unshed tears. She tries to reach out and comfort him, but still he doesn't acknowledge her presence... Suddenly, as she turns her head back round, the sky is lit up by a blinding light. Mulder rushes past her toward the source of the light and argument... ~~~~~ Tightly hugging his knees against his body, Fox Mulder rocked ever-so-slightly back and forth - muttering to himself as images and sounds from earlier by the truck assault his memory. He didn't know - couldn't *understand* - why he had left the comfort of their bed to come out here and cower in the corner of the truck's trailer like a guilty child. Couldn't put the pieces of the puzzle together in the right order so that he could make sense of anything he'd experienced today. But there it was, and here he was and no number of 'maybe there's hope's or 'never give up on a miracle's would change that. What had led up to his supposedly clever move of interrupting the two strangers as the sky was filled with the painfully familiar light remained somewhere in the back of his brain - too distant to hear. But he does remember what happened next. Does remember staring from the unknown man to the recognisable figure of the alien bounty hunter, and his helpless order of 'Leave him alone. Leave *us* alone'... ...Remembers the bounty hunter telling him that they were wasting their time - that nobody could stop the inevitable. ...Being told that he should never have escaped them... ...Told that whilst it couldn't be stopped, William's inherited immunity would cause the ultimate human rebellion against the alien race... ...That his son had to be - and *would* be - sacrificed... ...As well as he and Scully. A figure had then appeared through the curtain of light - unashamed of its mutilated face. Before he'd had the chance to see anything else something had slammed against his body and sent him rolling down the small embankment. "You enjoy every minute with her," the voice of the man that had been arguing with the bounty hunter barked in his ear. "Don't let your fear stop you from enjoying every second of your lives...From finding that boy..." "What are you talking about?" he hears himself say as the memory of how he had come to bump his head replays in his mind. He remembers opening his eyes then and staring at the indifferent ones of the stranger. "You're a supersoldier, aren't you? Shouldn't you want to kill us?" The stranger glanced over his shoulder and then got up, moving back round the front of the truck. "Don't get into too much of a routine - that'll be your en-...Holy crap!" 'Make it stop, Scully... Make them leave us alone... The drumming...it's the ship...a low hum from the engines keeping it in the air...I wanna go to it... But it disappeared after that... Why do I want to find it again after all that's happened?' Huddled in the truck's trailer the pace of his nervous rocking increases and he grips onto his knees even more tightly. 'There is hope...There *is* hope...Please believe me because I don't know how to believe myself...' ~~~~~ "Holy crap!" Dana had watched it all play out in front of her terrified eyes and she didn't know why. All she did know was that this was way past being a dream - a nightmare. It was something much deeper and real. This was what had happened out by the truck...But how and why was she seeing it? ...Mulder... His name keeps repeating itself in her head as she glances over at his motionless form on the ground and then turns back to watch as the faceless figure stabs the bounty hunter in the back of the neck with the familiar sharp, metallic weapon. "Holy crap!" the driver of the truck exclaims. The faceless man raises his head and sightlessly stares at the driver... And then as quickly as they appeared he and the light are gone. "*Mulder!*" It's surreal, but Scully sharply turns at the sound of her own high-pitched cry ripping through the night air to see herself running toward where Mulder has fallen as the car the bounty hunter had driven here speeds away with the stranger at the wheel. "Mulder? *Mulder*?" 'There is hope...Please believe me...I don't know how to believe myself...' His whispered, choked voice can be heard coming from the truck trailer behind her, even though she can distinctly see him in front of her. Nothing else makes much sense right now, anyway, so she does the only thing she knows and moves to the trailer to answer his pleas... But that's when her eyes fly open and she finds herself awake in the motel room's bed. Alone. XXXXXXXXXXXXX 'There is hope...Please believe me...' Head pressed against the cold glass window and eyes tightly shut, Gibson Praise feels a solitary tear roll down his small cheek as the images torturing his two friends echo in his own mind's eye. He'd already made a connection with the two FBI agents on their earlier encounters, but over the past year with Mulder in New Mexico it had deepened even further (fuelled by Mulder's deafening and non-stop thoughts for the family he'd been forced to leave) to the point that he had started to see what was happening through the eyes of Scully back in DC. Now he just wished he could implant his own thoughts into their minds. He couldn't say for sure if there was or wasn't any of the hope Mulder clearly needed to desperately believe there was for them, but just the ability to help calm them until he met up with them again would be an ideal gift. As the car pulled up outside their small house in Connelsville and Spender reached over to nudge the boy awake, all Gibson could hear was one sound that washed everything else out... Thumping. A continuous thumping. Pulsing in and out of somebody else's ears... XXXXXXXXXXXXX TO BE CONTINUED...