Title: Still Out There
Author: revery
Author's Page: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/816876/
Category: X-Files
Genre: Drama
Completed: 09/11/2005
Words: 45473
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files or anything that has been created by Chris Carter or 1013 Productions. I only worship.

Summary: Post-Truth. After the death of his father, 18-year-old William Van De Kamp receives a message from a mysterious man saying that his real father, Fox Mulder, has died. William sets out in a search for his biological parents and discovers the truth they worked so hard to uncover.

Part 1: "Finding"

Van De Kamp Farm
Outside of Pine Bluffs, WY
May 28, 2019

"Is our universe not just a white blood cell in a human body? As the universe expands and contracts, it's simply the pulse of a beating heart."

A paper airplane crashes into the wall and tumbles to the carpeted floor. From his bed, an 18-year-old boy sighed as he ran a hand through his thick auburn hair. He picked up a piece of paper from a stack on his nightstand and began folding another airplane. His room was littered with about twenty more paper airplanes, some smushed at the nose, all lifeless on the floor. The boy held the newly made paper airplane in his hands and began to shake. His shoulders shook as tears run down his face. He balled up the paper in his hand and threw it across his room. Sniffling he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Will?" a soft voice called from his bedroom door along with a soft knock.

"What?" the boy replied.

The door creaked open and a young woman with light brown hair and hazel eyes stuck her head in seeing him on his bed. "It's time to go."

William nodded and slid off his bed. He picked up a coat from his bed and put it on. The woman gave him a smile that was meant to be encouraging but her teary eyes made it more sad than helpful. She led him out of his room and down the stairs and out his front door where a black limo was waiting.

"Aunt Bridget?" Will touched her elbow. "Where's Mom?"

Bridget smiled again, "She went ahead with Grandpa Tom and Uncle Peter. I'm going to ride with you."

He nodded mutely and held the door open as she climbed into the limo. Will looked around the farm he grew up on before he followed her.

The hour-long limo ride to the cemetery was uneventful. Bridget kept trying to make conversation but Will's listless one-worded responses made her finally give up 20 minutes in.

Once at the cemetery, Will sat between his crying mother and Bridget. The reverend was speaking but Will didn't hear him. He stared off into space until he saw off in the distance standing next to a tall willow tree, a man in a hat and long coat, staring straight at him. Will frowned and shook his head, returning his attention to the casket in front of him.

"As we commend the body of Jonathan Van De Kamp into the Earth, we are reminded of his enthusiasm and love of life, a hard-working and friendly man survived by his loving wife, Marta, his son, William, his sister Bridget and brother-in-law, Peter, and his father-in-law Tom, as well as a close circle of friends. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," the reverend concludes.

Next to Will, his mother let out a long, shaking sob and gripped her son's hand hard. The rest of the standing funeral part began to leave and murmur amongst themselves. His maternal grandfather, Tom, gripped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to take your mother home," he whispered hoarsely into his ear. "Are you coming?"

Will looked up at the man at the tree again. "Um, I'll be there later. I want to stay here for a little bit."

Tom started to speak but closed his mouth and nodded instead, patting his grandson's shoulder. "Come on, Marta," he took his daughter and led her away.

"Are you sure you want to stay, William?" Bridget asked.

Will glanced over her shoulder at the man, "I'm sure."

"We'll ride in the limo home. Here are Uncle Peter's car keys, be careful."

"I will Aunt. Thank you."

Bridget smiled at him one last time before following her father and sister to the limo. Will turned back to the casket and reached out and ran his fingers over it. The polished mahogany wood was smooth under his fingers. Caskets had stopped being made nearly 5 years ago as a result of tree depletion and the fact that mostly everyone who died was cremated. But his father was a traditionalist and his will stipulated that he be buried in the Van De Kamp family plot.

When Will was certain that everyone had left he dared to look up. The man was still standing under the tree. William left his father's casket and began to walk towards the man. Will stood about 5 feet away from the man. "Who are you?"

The man didn't raise his head, but replied, "Are you William Van De Kamp?"

Will glared, "I asked you a question first."

The man gave a small, amused smirk, "You're a lot like he was."


The man raised his head, "Your father."

"Funny, people usually say we aren't… weren't, very much alike."

"No, I suspect they do say that. But I'm talking about your real father."

"I just came from my father's funeral, man. Show some frickin' respect. So unless you tell me who you are and why you were staring at me, I'm leaving."

"First of all boy, you came to me."

"You were staring at me!"

"I know. My name is Shaker, but by the look on your face I know you know that isn't my real name and that I'm not going to give it to you. I came to tell you that your father is dead."

"I think I know that." He gestured to the grave.

Shaker gave another half-smile but didn't stop, "I have come on behalf of a party who believes that your identity has been compromised and that your life may be in danger."

"Hold on, this is... My father's name is Jonathan Van De Kamp and he just died of a brain tumor three days ago… and you're trying to tell me that my real father is dead."

"I may have jumped to a conclusion saying you're like your father."

"What's this about people are coming after me because of who I am? Who am I?

I'm not even that popular at school and there are only 400 kids there."

"It's more like who you were and what you may know."

"Okay cryptic guy, I'm walking away now."

Shaker reached out and grabbed Will's arm. "I'm telling you this so you know what's going to come."

Will shook him off, "Whatever man," and walks away.

That night, Will stood in front of his mother's bedroom. Marta Van De Kamp was sitting on the edge of the bed she shared with her husband, staring at the wall.


Marta stirred and looked at her son. "Oh Will, when did you get home?"

"A little while ago," he told her.

"Oh, okay. Are you hungry?"

"Not really. What about you? You should eat."

"No, I'm not hungry and I don't think I could eat right now."

"Will you eat later?"

"Sure, hon."

"Mom… was there ever anything about Pop that you never told me about? Like he was someone else?

Marta shook her head, "I know you and your father didn't have much in common, Will, but he loved you very much. Always remember that."

"No, Mom, I know. He told me everyday, I'm just…"

"It's all right, honey," she patted his leg.

Will sighed. He knew she was still too distraught to answer any crazy questions. He stood up and leaned over to kiss his mother on the head. "Get some sleep okay?" He walked out of her room.

Downstairs, Will walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Bridget brought him a glass of soda and her cup of tea and sat with him.

"Is your mom sleeping?"

"No, she's sitting on her bed staring at nothing. You think she'll be okay?"

"Give her time, William. She loved your father very much," Bridget reassured him but she did seem a bit worried. "And how about you? Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah…" Will replied. He remembered the conversation with Shaker earlier. "Aunt Bridget?"


"Some… Is there anything my parents ever kept from me?"

"Like what?"

"Like a secret."

"I'm sure you have things you haven't told your parents," She said sipping her tea. "Say having your friends over when your parents were out of town last year? Something like that?"

"Okay, that's completely different and irrelevant."

"It's a secret."

"I meant something like… about me… a secret they kept from me about me."

Bridget's eyes blink rapidly and she sips from her mug. "I don't know what you mean," she said nonchalantly.

Will noticed the slight tightness in her body movements and decided to press her. "You do know something. Tell me what it is. Is it about my father?" He paused. "My real one?"

Bridget sighed and set her mug down. She looked her nephew in the eyes. "William, I promised your parents I'd never say anything."

"Then it's true," he said, looking down at the table. "My mother had an affair."

"What? No… Now it's not that. Your mother and father, not long after they were married Marta became pregnant. It was a very tough pregnancy and she miscarried. She miscarried four more times before your father said no more and your mother had a hysterectomy…"

William sat back in his chair, "I'm adopted."

Bridget nodded, "Yes. Oh William I'm so sorry."

William chuckled sardonically, "For what? My parents adopted me and they never told me. Then some guy comes up to me after my father's funeral and tells me that my real father died too," he pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "This is like some sick soap opera."

Bridget furrowed her brows, "Some guy? Who?"

Will shrugged, "He called himself 'Shaker'. He was real cloak and dagger without the dagger."

Bridget's expression remained serious, "And he told you about your real father?"

"Only that he died and that I could be in danger because of who he is or who I am… Something like that."

Bridget pursed her lips. They were both silent for a few minutes. "Will, you should go to bed. It's been a long day."


"Good night Will."

"Night, Aunt Bridget."

Will had just begun to drift into an uneasy sleep when he heard noises coming from the bathroom in his room. He bolted upright and grabbed his father's old metal baseball bat. He pushed the door open with the end of his bat when Bridget shoved him back into his room.

He stumbled backwards, "What the hell? Aunt Bridget, what are you doing?"

"Shh!" She silenced him and threw a pair of his jeans at him "Put these on."

Will stared at her. She was fully dressed in pants and a sweater, but what Will was noticing most was the gun in her hand. "What time is it?"

Bridget turned to him, "William, you have to listen to me, okay?"

"Aunt Bridget?"

"You need to leave… Now."

"Are you being funny? What's happening?"

"I'm serious here, William. You meeting that man wasn't an accident, they knew Jonathan had died, they probably facilitated it, but that doesn't matter. All that does is that you get as far away from here as possible."

"They? They who? Aunt Bridget, I don't understand..."

"You won't and…"

The sound of squealing breaks cut her off and Bridget went into the bathroom and Will followed her. She pulled back the shower curtain revealing a dead body of a young man similar to Will.

"What the…"

"Grab the shoulders," she instructed him.

Will's face is contorted in a sick grimace but he does as his aunt said and heaved the body up and followed her into his room.

"Set it on the bed," she said to him. "Here," she shoved his father's old duffel bag into his arms and began to pack his clothes into it. She checked her gun and placed it in there as well.

"Now I want you to climb out the window and try not to be seen. Peter's truck is behind the barn. Drive through the field until you hit the road, and keep driving. No matter what happens, don't stop." She pushed him to the window and he climbed through it, she handed him his bag.

"Wait, what about my mom?"

"I'll take care of her."

"I don't… I don't understand…"

"Things will get clearer. I promise." Bridget looked around and grabbed a piece of paper, quickly she scribbled on it. She pressed it into his hand, "And William, don't trust anyone."

Will sped away as fast as the truck would go and when he finally looked in the rearview mirror he could see his home ablaze in the distance.

Navajo Reservation
Two Grey Hills, NM
3:06 pm

Will fingered the piece of paper his aunt had given to him. He looked at the writing then at the address, he was in the right place. He walked up to the old house and knocked on the door. The door slid open and there in the doorway stood a bronze-skinned young woman. She had a braid of black hair that reached her buttocks. She was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and a mildly annoyed expression until Will realized he was staring.

He cleared his throat, "Does Albert Hosteen live here?"

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"My name's Will Van De Kamp, I was given this address and this name."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Someone. Look, does he live here or not?"

"He's around," the girl replied

"Can I talk to him?"

"It'd be kind of hard since he died over 20 years ago." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Can you speak to the spirits?"


She sighed irritated, "I asked if you could commune with the spirits, if you can do that then you can talk to Albert."

Will tilted his head, "He's dead?"

"You catch on quick enough," she said. "You said your name was Will, like William?"


"Come on in then. There might be someone you can talk to."

"Are they alive?"

She looked at him, a smile played around his lips. "Yeah… jackass," she muttered.

He followed her in through the house. A man in his late forties sat in a chair in the middle of the living room. He looked like the girl, the same bronze skin and black hair; only his was streaked with gray and came to his shoulders. The girl spoke to him in what Will could only guess was Navajo.

The man looked up at him with a hint of a smile. "Will, it's good to meet you. My name is Eric Hosteen. You look like him."

"Like who?"

"The FBI man."

"The FBI man?" Will repeated, confused.

The Navajo man nodded, "He came here once, a long time ago. Albert saved his life."

Will swallowed, "What was his name?"

"I knew him only as the FBI man."

"Oh," Will looked down in disappointment. "I came looking for Albert Hosteen. I didn't know he had passed."

"That was a long time ago too. Albert was a great man. He believed in a person's spirit. You can be prayed over only so much, it is your spirit that determines how long you will go on. He believed in the FBI man's spirit."

"He sounded like a holy man."

"Only as holy as the next, he would say. But yeah, I guess you would call him a Medicine Man."

"I was sent here to find answers. I need to find my father."

The girl spoke in Navajo again to the man. He replied and waved her away. He looked at Will.

"Albert told me about the FBI man and his partner before he died."

"Do you know where he is? This FBI man? Can he help me find my father?" "Your father is the FBI man," Eric told him.

"He is?"

"Yes, but I don't know where he is now."

Will's face fell, "You don't? What about his partner? Would he know?"

"I can only tell you that your journey begins here. Albert said that we would help the FBI man again, but I'm not the one that will help you."

"What? Why not?"

He gestured and for the first time Will noticed that Eric didn't have the rest of his legs from the knee down. "Bad accident seven years ago." He then gestured to the girl, "This is my daughter, Madeline. Together you will make this journey."

The girl, Madeline, spoke in Navajo again. This time she sounded angry. Eric replied calmly. He turned back to Will, "You two must be careful because once this journey begins it won't stop until you found what you are supposed to. That includes you, daughter."

Will shook his head, "I don't know where to begin."

"East to where the FBI once held their headquarters. It should be easy to find."

"I don't know where that is."

"Washington D.C.," Madeline replied. "In Maryland. That's where we start."

Eric nodded, "Leave now before it gets dark, it will take two days to get there."

Madeline left the room and returned with a bag. Will looked at it, puzzled. "We knew you were coming, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Will said. He nodded to Eric. "Thank you."

Eric nodded as well, "I hope you find what you are looking for."

Will turned and opened the door. He let Madeline go before him and took her bag.

"Madeline," Eric called to her. Both her and Will looked back. He said something to her in Navajo and she nodded then she and Will left.

Once outside Will opened the truck door for her. "What did he say to you?" he asked before she got in.

Madeline looked at him. She repeated the phrase in Navajo.

"What's it mean?"

Her brown eyes bore through his. "Trust no one," she replied.

Interstate 40 East
10 hours later
1:37 am

Madeline sighed, "Do you want me to drive?"

Will shook his head.

"You've been driving 8 hours straight. And you drove all night from Wyoming to New Mexico. At least let me drive part of the way."

"It's okay, I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Did the spirits tell you that?" he asked rather mockingly.

"No," she said with a glare. "The fact that you have circles the color of asphalt under your eyes and keep swaying off the road every couple of miles tells me that," she said. "Ass," she added as an after thought."

"At least let me get to Oklahoma City."

"We won't make it to Oklahoma City the way you're driving."

He grumbled under his breath and gripped the steering wheel tightly. Madeline rolled her eyes and looked out the window. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Will's head drooping down. She shook him harshly.

"What!" Will snapped up and glared at her. "I'm fine."

"Pull over. I am driving."

He growled but complied and they switched places. No more than ten minutes later he was asleep.

Outside of Nashville, TN
May 31, 2019 2:54 pm

They made it as far as Nashville before pulling over for food. Will awoke in the truck in the parking lot of a truck-stop diner. He got out and stretched before heading into the diner.

Madeline was sitting in a booth looking over a road map. She looked up to see Will slide in. "Hey, you're awake."

"Yeah, where are we?"

"Nashville, or just outside of it. I'm trying to see how much further to Maryland. You know it's going to be kinda hard getting into FBI headquarters. I know it's just basically a museum now, but it still must be guarded or something."

Will leaned over and looked at the map. "It's probably another 10 hours or so. Straight driving, no traffic."

The waitress came over and handed Will a menu. "What to drink?"

"Coffee," He and Madeline both replied.

"This is the only place in Tennessee that still serves black bean coffee honey," the waitress said with a proud smile. Will nodded and she left to get their drinks. Will opened his menu, a moment later something hit the menu. Will looked down and saw a tiny paper airplane. Trying to be inconspicuous he palmed it. Madeline was reading the map so he opened it under the table.

Don't turn around. Excuse yourself and walk towards the restrooms. The note read in tiny script.

Will fought every instinct to turn around. Instead, he coughed and excused himself from the table. When walking towards the back of the diner he caught a glimpse of a familiar light-brown head of hair. He walked towards it.

"Aunt Bridget?"

"Quietly, William," She replied in a hushed voice. "Sit."

Will slid into the booth across from her, glancing over at Madeline as he did. She was still engrossed in the map. "Aunt Bridget…"

She held up a finger to stop him. "Listen, after you eat, go to the Rest 9 Motel down the street. Get one room and after you're settled in, come back outside. Here," she passed a tiny plastic baggie with a fine powder in it. "Slip this into the girl's drink."

"What is it?"

"Sleeping aids. She'll be out in an hour."


But she stood up abruptly and left.

Will looked down at the small baggie she had given him. He pocketed the baggie and headed back to the table where Madeline was still pouring over the map.

"I'd ask if everything went well only that might be overstepping the boundary since we've only known each other for a few hours," Madeline said not looking up.

"Huh? Oh yeah…" Will shifted uncomfortably. He reached over and took her coffee cup. As inconspicuously as he could he emptied the contents of the baggie into it. He stirred it with her straw.

Madeline looked up, "That's my coffee," she said.

"Oh!" He smiled and gave it to her. "Sorry."

She frowned, "You okay? You look like you just stepped into a snake den."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "You wanna get outta here?"

"Yeah we should get going." She gulped down the rest of her coffee and made a face. "Man that's terrible stuff."

Will faked an uneasy laugh as he dropped some bills on the table. He watched her stand next to the truck, waiting for him by the driver's side. "I'll drive," he offered when he got outside.

Madeline leaned her head against the window as Will pulled into the Rest 9 Motel. She looked up. "What are we doing here?"

Will shut off the truck, "I think we should get a room."


"Because we still got a ways to go and we could both use some good sleep," he said.

She was quiet for a moment then nodded, "I guess we're okay here for a little bit."

"Great," he said.

They grabbed their bags and checked in. The room had two double beds and Madeline dropped her bag and sank into one of them gratefully. She grinned sheepishly at Will.

"When I was younger my dad would take me camping and we'd pitch a tent and sleep under the stars all night and he'd tell me stories that had been passed down from Albert to him." She paused. "Right before he lost his legs he wanted to go camping. I didn't. He told be that I had become too spoiled. Needed TV and electricity and a comfy bed. I told him that he never wanted a daughter, that he wished I was a boy and that he treated me like one. He didn't talk to me for three days afterwards." She sighed and closed her eyes. "When he lost his legs and was in the hospital I slept outside under the stars until he came home."

"My Pops," Will started, "wanted me to be like him. He wanted me to take over the ranch and take care of everything like he did but I didn't want to. I wanted to be a doctor or an astronaut or something. I hated being there sometimes, it was like I knew I belonged somewhere else, and now…"

Madeline cocked her head, "Now what?"

"Now I miss it. I miss him, and I miss my mom." He shook his head angrily, "And if there weren't people telling me that my life was in danger I wouldn't care about finding my real parents. They gave me up."

"You don't think it was for a good reason?"

"I don't care. My parents, they were good parents, and they loved me. I guess that matters more now that I don't have them anymore."

They were both quiet for a long time. Madeline sighed.

"What is it?"

"I think that is the way things are. You don't appreciate what you have until you don't have it."

An hour later, Madeline was fast asleep and Will crept out of the room. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon and Will looked out at it. Suddenly someone tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around and the desk clerk was standing there. He held out a small computer PDA.

"Here," he said gruffly.

"What is it?"

"Some woman paid me fifty to give it to you, kid. I didn't ask."

Will took the PDA and thanked the man. The man left and Will turned on the device. Right away a message appeared on the screen.

Hello William, it read. I'm sorry I'm not there but something has come up. This PDA is untraceable and you'll be able to contact me through email only if you need me. I know you still don't understand but I promise that you will soon enough. And William remember: don't trust anyone.

William frowned at the last sentence. The same thing she had last said to him back home. The message deleted itself and a new one popped up. An address- 1121 E. Oak Park, Baltimore, Maryland.

3 Hours Later

"Why exactly are we going to Baltimore? I thought we were supposed to go to D.C.," Madeline asked.

William didn't answer right away. As soon as he got back to the room he roused Madeline awake and they left. Now he was speeding along the highway.

"Hello, Earth to William. What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked.

Suddenly William slammed on the brakes and pulled off to the side of the road. He got out of the car and started walking away. Madeline got out and followed him.

He spun around and pulled the gun Bridget had given him aiming it at Madeline's chest. Her body went taut and she stared wildly at him. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Why are you helping me?"

"Are you out of your mind Will?" She said, an edge of alarm in her voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"Answer the question!" He yelled emphasizing the gun he had pointed at her.

Madeline forced herself to calm down as she held his gaze, "You already know the answers, Will. You have to make the next choice."

Will tightened his grip around the gun as it shook in his hand. Slowly, he lowered it. Madeline dared to inch closer. "God, what's wrong with me?"

Madeline's face showed a moment of empathy for him. "Nothing's wrong with you. You got put into a situation you can't control and it's hard to see what the truth is and what isn't."

"Stop it! Dammit!" He yelled. Will squatted on his haunches and put is head down between his knees. His arms were up over his head, his finger no longer hovering over the trigger of the gun. His shoulders shook violently. "I don't understand any of this. What am I doing? Chasing a ghost?"

Madeline did nothing. Her chestnut-brown eyes shone with tears and the frown on her face expressed sympathy for the boy.

"I'm sorry."

She sighed, "Its okay." They got back into the car and started off again. "So," Madeline said after a few minutes. "You want to tell me where we're going?"

"Baltimore. There's someone there who might be able to help us with where to go next," Will replied.

Madeline nodded but was quiet the rest of the ride

Bellevue Rest Home
1121 E. Oak Park, Baltimore, MD
June 1
9:00 am EST

"You're the first people to visit Mr. Skinner since he came here six years ago," a blond-haired nurse said as she led Will and Madeline through the rest home.

"Well, we wanted to see him before we left," Madeline replied.

The nurse turned and smiled at them, "He's a terribly sweet man," she said. "It's a shame though."

"What's wrong with him?" Will asked.

"Why his Alzheimer's of course," the nurse told him. "It was already in advanced stages so the doctors couldn't treat it. Didn't you know?"

Will stammered, "Uh, yeah. I mean, it's been a long time since I've seen, Uncle uh, Walter."

The nurse clucked her tongue, "Oh well, at least you could find time to come down."

Madeline nudged Will. "They get you with the guilt trips here," she whispered.

"How long have you been married?" The nurse asked.

"Excuse me?" Will coughed.

The nurse looked at them. "You two, you're such a lovely couple, how long have you been together?"

"Three years," Madeline answered quickly. "We've been married three years."

"That's wonderful," the nurse said. She stopped at the entrance of a large room. Sunlight flooded in through a large window that looked out into a garden. An elderly man sat in front of the window in a wheelchair. "Here it is," the nurse said, ushering them in. She walked over to the man in the wheelchair. "Mr. Skinner? Your nephew and his wife are here to see you."

Walter Skinner looked up, "Is it dinner time, Sharon?"

"Not yet Mr. Skinner and my name is Valerie. Will and Madeline are here, don't you want to say hello?"

Skinner shrugged. "Why not?"

Valerie turned to Will and Madeline, "Go on and sit with him," she told them and left.

Madeline pushed Will forward and he cleared his throat. "Mr. Skinner?"

The elderly man looked up at him and knit his grey brows, he spoke in a soft whisper, "Mulder?"

Will cleared his throat, "Mr. Skinner, my name is Will Van De Kamp. I need your help."

"Agent, I suggest you cool it for a little while. Go home, there's nothing you can do here," Skinner said to him.

Will blinked back stinging tears. "Um… Mr. Skinner, I'm Will, William."

Mr. Skinner gave a small smile. "You're older."

"You know me?"

"No. But you look like him."

"Who? My father? Who is he? Where is he?"

"I don't know where they went, son. I haven't seen them in 18 years."

"My parents," Will breathed, "Please you have to tell me where they are."

Skinner looked at Madeline, "Could you close the window, Sharon?"

Will bent down, his hand on Skinner's knee, "Please, Mr. Skinner…"

"I don't know where they went!" Skinner yelled. "I helped them, yes, and I'll accept the consequences but I will not be intimidated into serving your so-called cause. You'll just have to find them on your own."

"Will," Madeline said softly, "He doesn't know."

Will ignored her and kept prodding the older man. "What about someone else?"

"You'll have to ask Agents Reyes and Doggett. I can't answer for them," Skinner said to him.

"Who are they?"

"If that's all you have to say to me, Mr. Linde, I'd like to leave now," Skinner turned away from Will.

Will looked as if he was about to cry. He shook it off and spun around stalking away from Mr. Skinner and Madeline.

Madeline looked helplessly at the now vacant-faced Skinner then chased after Will.

Will was outside at the car when she got to him. He slammed his fists down on the bed of the truck. "God dammit!" He shouted.

"Hey," Madeline put her hand on his arm. "you okay?"

Will nodded but didn't look at her. "I'm sorry about that."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, just… Nothing."

"Remember the whole deal with the gun and the trust issues? I thought we were going to start working on that."

"It's nothing. My Pops was like that before he died. He was in the hospital and everyday I went there to see him he… he wouldn't remember who I was. He'd call me Cooper sometimes, who was his younger brother. Or when he would remember me, it'd be when I was a little boy. But most of the time, he just plain wouldn't remember me at all." Will sniffled and wiped his nose and eyes with the back of his hand. "So I guess this was a dead end."

"Not really," Madeline mused. "He mentioned the names Reyes and Doggett, that could be something."

"He was just rambling. They do that."

"I don't know. I looked up his name on the internet with your PDA, while you two were talking. His name came up as Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the Former FBI. He retired after announcing that he had Alzheimer's disease."

"You used my PDA?"

"I didn't think you'd mind."

Will shrugged, "I don't."

"Okay then, anyways. We could look up the names Doggett and Reyes in association with the FBI."

"That's a long shot."

"But the only shot we have. These people may have known your father."

"Because they were in the FBI?"


It took Madeline a moment to type in the query on the PDA. Seconds later she got a hit. "Special Agent Monica Reyes and Special Agent John Doggett spoke out today at a rally held by Agents of the FBI," she read. "Those in attendance protested the merger of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the National Security Agency. 'This National Protection and Investigation Bureau is an outrage' says John Doggett, formerly a NYC police officer, 'by merging these two companies together, we as Americans have signed a death warrant.' Agent Monica Reyes added to this citing, 'This is another attempt to hide truths from not only Americans but everyone on Earth.' The two were later arrested and posted bail this afternoon." Madeline read.

"So they were Agents?"

"I guess… Oh listen to this, 'The bodies of Monica Reyes and John Doggett were found early this morning after a fire erupted in their house.' Damn, the date on this was December 12, 2012."

"When was Walter Skinner admitted into the hospital?"

"Um… seven years ago… 2012… what are you thinking?"


"You're thinking that's more than just a coincidence."

"Like maybe they weren't killed in that fire."

"Or aren't dead?"

"Then how do we find them?"

"I don't know! He didn't tell us anything."

"Maybe he did. He was an Assistant Director of the FBI. You don't get that just by being a regular Joe. He said the names Doggett and Reyes on purpose. What else did Mr. Skinner say? Any other names?"

"He kept calling you Sharon… he called me..."


"That's it, Monica and John Linde." Two seconds later, "Here! John and Monica Linde- Schenectady, NY. They aren't that far."

"Great. We'll get another car… I think that you should go along to D.C, without me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"It'll look less suspicious if it's only you going."

"How would it look less suspicious?"

"Well, you're better way at lying than I am." When she raised her eyebrows, he added quickly, "It makes more sense to split up. Besides, someone might recognize me if they knew my father.

"Because you look like him?"

"Right, if you find anything just call me."

Madeline glared at him for a moment then consented, "Fine. Be careful."

"You too."

Linde Residence
Schenectady, NY
June 1 3:45 pm

Will stood shifting from one foot to the other in front of the door. These may be the people who could give me answers about my father and mother. Not just cryptic messages and claims that I look like my father, He thought. Will took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A moment later, an attractive older woman answered the door. Her dark brown hair was gray around her hairline and her grayish green eyes sparkled youthfully.

"Um, Mrs. Linde?" He stammered.

Mrs. Linde didn't give Will time to finish his sentence, she held her hand to her chest and gasped sharply. "Oh my…" She turned around and called out, "John!" She stepped aside to let Will in. "Please come in."

Mr. Linde, or John, came up behind them. He was an older man, his hair white and gray yet still fashioned in the crew cut that Marines wore in the last 30 years. "What?" he asked in a raspy New Yorker accent. His blue eyes penetrated Will. "Who's this?"

"Put your glasses on."

"Okay, Okay…" He pulled down a pair of spectacles from the top of his head and looked through them, "Oh… well, this is a surprise…"

"Not if you think about it."

"Monica, don't start with that."

"Come on, everything has to come full circle sooner or later. It's a law of nature."

Will cleared his throat awkwardly hoping to regain the attention of the squabbling adults. He succeeded and they looked at him. "Um… is this a bad time?"

Mrs. Linde smiled, "Oh no, he's always like that."

"So are you," Mr. Linde retorted.

She pawed him, "Quiet down, John."

It was the second time Mrs. Linde had called him that, so Will took a chance, "You worked for the FBI didn't you?"

Mr. and Mrs. Linde stared at him for a moment. "How do you know that?" Mr. Linde asked with a quiet threatening.

"I need your help." Will said. "I need to find my parents and so far you two are the only ones I know who might have known them."

Mrs. Linde and Mr. Linde looked at each other for a moment until Mrs. Linde took Will by the hand. "Come on," she said. "We have a lot to talk about."

J. Edgar Hoover FBI Museum
Washington D.C.
June 1 12:12 pm

Madeline wandered with the tour group through the museum. It really wasn't much of a museum. There were mainly photographs on the wall of long dead important people and propaganda for the NPIB. Madeline dimly remembered when the National Security Agency and the Federal Bureau of Investigation merged. She remembered that her father said that they wouldn't have any more Feds on the reservation, but saying that it might not be a good thing.

She remembered a being at a meeting with her dad, a meeting between the Reservation president, the Deputy Director of the FBI and the newly appointed Director of the National Protection and Investigation Bureau. Her people were all angry about something, something having to do with a code. An old code, Madeline had assumed was the Navajo code from WWII. But this was a different code, one that Eric later taught her.

Madeline drifted from the group as they neared the gift shop. She retraced her steps back to the flight of stairs she earlier noted. She descended the stairwell until she got to the basement, where Eric told her the FBI man would've had his office.

She pushed open the unlocked door to the office. She tried the switch on the wall and the fluorescent lights overhead flickered but remained on. There was nothing in the room save for a desk and three filing cabinets. She tried the filing cabinets first, going through each drawer, finding nothing but dust.

She stood over the desk and continued her ransack through the drawers. She came up with two broken, chewed-on pencils and a penny and dime that were fused together.

"Dammit," she swore under her breath. Suddenly, down the hall she heard the elevator ding and footsteps approaching. Quickly, she ran towards the open door and shut off the light; she walked out of the room and turned so that hopefully the person didn't see her.

"Excuse me?" The person called out.

Madeline pretended not to hear and just kept walking towards the stairs.

"Miss? Hey!" the man called after Madeline as she walked away in a hurry.

She looked back and broke into a run. He jogged to catch up to her and grabbed her arm. She struggled against him. "Settle down," he said more forcefully restraining her. "What are you doing down here?" he asked.

Madeline looked at him. He was tall, had brown eyes and dark blonde hair. He was wearing a suit and was good-looking. "I'm…" Madeline looked helpless for a moment. "I got lost on the tour."

"The tour only goes through the first and second floors," the man said, cocking an eyebrow. "We're in the basement."

"Well, what are you doing down here?" She challenged.

"I work for the NPIB," he replied. "Now come on, you're coming with me." He took her by the arm and led her out of the room. "What's your name?"

She answered him in Navajo and he stopped. He sized her up and asked her the question again, only this time in Navajo. "Haash yinílyé?

It was her turn to be surprised. "You understood me?"

He smiled, "A little. I know the words 'stupid', 'white' and 'pig' were in that sentence somewhere."

Her cheeks flushed. "Are you din-neh-ih?"

He shook his head, "No. But I worked in a field office out of the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. Is that where you're from?"

She didn't answer him.

"Look, I know you speak English, so you can't play the 'no habla' card with me," he told her.

When she still didn't answer he sighed, "Fine." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his I.D. "My name is Agent Arthur Roe. Now, if you tell me your name and what you're doing down here, maybe I'll think about letting you go."

Reluctantly Madeline spoke, "Madeline yinishyé."

He let go of her arm, "Do I get a last name?" She gave him a look and he sighed again. "Right, dumb question. So Madeline no-last-name, what are you doing snooping in the basement of the old FBI building?"

She wasn't sure why she answered him but she did, "I'm looking for someone."

He looked around, "Nobody's down here. The last person who had this office is long gone."

She widened her eyes. "Someone actually worked down here?"

"Yep. So who are you looking for?"

"I don't actually know," she confessed. "I don't even have a name."

"But you knew they worked here?"

"Right, more than 18 years ago."

"That's before my time." He leaned up against the wall. "Okay, so what do you know?"

Madeline glowered at him, "Why are you helping?"

"I have nothing better to do at the moment. And if it's important enough to you to find this person who worked here that you're snooping around a dingy basement, then I might as well, right?" Agent Roe gave her a little half smile.

"All right," she nodded.

"Come on, we can sit in the office," he said. She followed him back into the office and he pulled two dusty chairs up. They sat, "So, what do you got?"

"There used to be a man, a woman too I think, they worked here on unexplained cases."

"The X-Files?" Roe widened his eyes.

"I don't know."

"Wow, the X-Files are… legendary, part of the reason why I wanted to join the Agency was because of those."

"You work on those cases?"

"The X-Files was shut down permanently17 years ago. The last Agents who worked on it went on with it secretly before they were formally dismissed."

"What were their names?"

"Um… Doggett and Reyes."

Madeline's head snapped up, "John Doggett and Monica Reyes?"

"Yeah. Wow, those two were something. I got the chance to meet them before…"

"Before what?"

"Before they died," he said a little sadly.

"Hmm," Madeline mused. "How long were they with the X-files?

"Oh wow… um, 2001 through 2004. The X-Files was first opened in 1991, I believe."

"How come you know all this?"

Roe looked away sheepishly, "Like I said, I wanted to be on the X-Files. When they told me that there were no X-Files or plans to reopen it, I did some homework."

"Why did they close down the X-Files?"

"That's the thing," he leaned into her conspire-like, "The X-Files had been closed down before, but it was always reopened. In 2004, when they closed it for good, the order came from so high up in the chain of command that there was no way to dispute it."

Madeline played with the hem of her shirt, lost in her thoughts.

Roe looked at her, "Hey, you wanna grab something to eat? We can talk more if you want."

Madeline looked up at him. His face was kind and offering, "Okay," she agreed. "What's good around here?"

Linde Residence
4:06 pm

Will, John and Monica were seated around the kitchen table. Monica was pouring them all tea and sat back down. She shook her head and grinned at Will. "My God I can't believe how much you look like him."

John nodded, "He has her eyes though."

"Yeah and coloring."

Will gave them a tight smile, "Okay, so I'm just gonna take a guess and say you two are Monica Reyes and John Doggett."

Monica laughed a little, "I'm sorry, William. Yes, we are."

Will knit his brows together, "You know my name?"

"Yes. I delivered you," she said and smiled.

Will leaned forward, "Do you know where my real parents are?"

John shook his head, "I'm sorry William, but we don't."

"Oh," Will looked down.

Monica smiled again, "You should stay here tonight though. Go on and put your stuff upstairs, the first door on the left."

"Thank you." Will climbed up the stairs.

When Will left, John sighed and sat back in his chair. "We should tell him."

Monica patted his leg. "I don't think they'd want us to. There's a lot he needs to know first."

John heaved another sigh, "We're getting back into it, aren't we?"

"I don't think we were ever really out of it John."

"No, I suppose not. But I'm definitely getting too old for this."

"Not for me," she said coyly. John leaned over and kissed her softly.

J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building and Museum
Washington D.C.
June 3 6:00am

The elevator bell dinged and the man in the coat and hat stepped off. He strode purposefully down the hall and into the office at the end of the hall. The place was as dank and depressing as he has remembered it. A woman with honey-brown hair and green eyes sat waiting for him behind the old desk. Her body went slightly rigid when she saw him.

"Took you long enough, Shaker," she said.

He glared but smirked just the same. "Why'd you want to meet here? This place holds some bad memories for me."

She seemed to get a rush of satisfaction from hearing about his displeasure. "He's coming."

Shaker frowned, some of his amusement draining away. "Are you sure?"

"I know him, he'll be here. And he'll come alone," she assured him.

"Ah, yes," the amusement returned to Shaker's dark brown eyes. "You know him. Your phenomenon of a nephew."

"I looked after him, waited until he was ready to know," Bridget snapped darkly. "You think it was easy for me not to want to take him right away? Right after my "sister" and her husband got him? No, I had to wait for your bosses' command."

"You think taking him earlier would've been the wiser choice?" Shaker asked.

"He's getting more and more curious about him. About his father. I know he is."

"Now listen to me," Shaker's eyes were hard and had an icy malice that she had never seen before. "I know Mulder. I know him better than anyone on this Earth could ever. Taking his only son any earlier would've provoked him out of hiding, and then the boy would've been with him. Now that my bosses say Mulder is dead, we have nothing to worry about. His allies won't betray him, not even for his son."

"And William's mother?"

"Her too."

Bridget was silent, comprehending all that Shaker had just said. "You don't think Mulder is dead, do you?" she asked him quietly.

Shaker locked his gaze with hers, then turned and Bridget watched him stalk back out of the room, he stopped at the doorway. "Mulder doesn't die," he said. That's why I don't."

Linde Residence
Schenectady, NY
June 3 11:06 am

Will startled himself awake. For a moment, in the haziness of post-sleep he forgot where he was. That he wasn't home on the ranch in his bed that he was instead in some strangers' home on a wild goose chase to find his biological father with a girl he barely knew.

Slowly he rose out of bed. He realized he was in his underwear and old t-shirt. He had been so tired that he had fallen asleep pretty much as soon as he had removed his shoes and pants. He looked around and saw at the foot of the bed on an old chest were his jeans, cleaned and folded, a pair of new socks and underwear and a clean shirt. He gathered the clothes and snuck across the hall to the bathroom.

When Will got downstairs he was surprised to see John at the stove, wearing a chef's apron and Monica reading the paper at the table, sipping at a glass of juice. He smiled, thinking to himself that at his house, the roles would be reversed.

"Oh good, the shirt fit," Monica remarked cheerily when she saw the freshly showered Will enter the kitchen. She picked up an empty glass from the table and poured juice into it.

She held the juice out for Will. "I was afraid it might be too big for you. It's one of John's old shirts, and he's gone up a few sizes over the years."

He smiled gratefully as he took the glass and slid into the seat at the head of the table.

"One size, and barely that," John retorted as he brought two plates of eggs, bacon, and toast to the table, setting one in front of Will and the other at the empty space across from Monica.

Will looked over at John. He pretty much already decided that John was ex-military, as far as he could tell the older man still looked somewhat formidable. Will's gaze trailed back to Monica who rolled her eyes.

"You don't eat?" Will asked Monica.

She shook her head, "I ate earlier. It seems that you're like John and sleep-in on Sundays."

Will nearly choked on his juice. "Sunday?" I thought it was Saturday."

"You slept through Saturday, son," John told him. "Had to keep checking on you to make sure you weren't dead."

Will frowned, wondering how he could sleep through an entire day. Then he remembered the sleeping aid Aunt Bridget gave him. He dumped it into Madeline's coffee and then accidentally drank some so that she wouldn't be suspicious. That coupled with two days of driving cross-country with little sleep would put him in a state of exhaustion. Smart move dumbass, he thought cynically.

Monica smiled, "Eat, okay?"

Will looked down at his food and was suddenly very hungry. He said a quick thanksgiving prayer in his head and dug in. They ate pretty much in silence and when the males were done Monica picked up their dirty dishes and unloaded them into the dishwasher.

"So, Will," John said casually when Monica sat back down. "How did you know who we were?"

Will looked back and forth at both of them. His mother had always said that he had a good sense of people and deep down he knew that the Linde's or John Doggett and Monica Reyes were good people. He also knew that they'd probably be able to tell if he was lying to them.

"A man named Walter Skinner."

He caught the slightly alarmed look they exchanged.

Monica spoke first, her voice was even. "Walter Skinner?"

Will nodded. "I got a message that he would know where to find my parents."

"From?" John asked. Will didn't answer and John wasn't expecting him to. "And he just told you like that?" John asked.

"No. The nurse said he had Alzheimer's so I knew we weren't…"

"Wait, we?" John's eyes narrowed.

Will hesitated, not knowing for certain whether he should tell them about Madeline. "A friend. She's still in D.C."

"So you asked Skinner where you could find your parents?" Monica continued.

"Yeah," Will replied. "He said he didn't know but me and my friend were able to kind of decipher what he was trying to tell me with what he was saying."

John gave a curt laugh. "That'd be Skinner, ever the FBI guy."

Will let himself smile. He leaned forward. "Can you tell me about my parents?"

"What do you want to know?" Monica asked. Her brows were knit in concern but her lovely face was placid and soft.

Will knew that asking for their names right away wouldn't work, at least not with these two, they were former FBI agents at the very least. "Anything."

"Your mother was smart. She was a doctor. And your father was… an idealist," John said.

"They complimented each other in the best ways," Monica finished.

Will couldn't stop the next question from coming out of his mouth even if he tried. "Why did they give me up?"

Almost immediately Monica's peaceful face broke and she became visibly distressed for him, as if she knew what he was going through. Will looked at John and the tough-cop expression was gone, replaced by sympathy.

Will's eyes stung with tears but he was going to hear their answer. John's throat muscles were working overtime as the older man stumbled through his words. "It's not that they didn't love you, Will… your mother…" He stopped and looked over at Monica for help.

"Your mother thought at the time it'd be the best thing she could do for you," Monica said. She smiled and tears rolled down her cheeks. "And she was right."

Will nodded and blinked his tears back. "Until now."

John smirked, "Yeah, until now."

Monica wiped her face with a napkin and smiled at Will. "Why don't you get your things and we'll get your friend in Washington."

"Does that mean you're gonna help me?" Will asked.

"I think we have to, Will," she replied. He nodded and bounded up the stairs. When he was gone, she turned to John.

"What do you think?"

John shrugged, "I'm not. I'm still trying to figure him out."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you see how upset he was?"

"He had a good story Monica."

"That we've bought," she pointed out. "What would he have to gain by lying?" she pointed out.

"I don't think its Will whose gaining anything from all this," he told her, his voice becoming gravely serious. "I think he's being used."

Monica's brows and forehead crinkled in consideration, "He went to Skinner."

"And how did he know to do that unless someone is feeding him names?"

"But also know that Skinner knew where we were?"

"Monica," John put his hand on hers, "Skinner's dead."

"What? When?"

"Yesterday. The visitor records show that this kid and a girl were the last to see him. I waited to tell you until we heard what Will had to say."

"John, you don't think…"

"I honestly don't know, Monica. I want to think that it couldn't be true but…" He trailed off. "I mean, what are the odds that Dana and Mulder's son would show up here on our doorstep? Now? Think about it."

"I admit it's improbable but possible."

"Monica we're supposed to be dead."

"Crazier things have happened, John. Plus he looks…"

"I know, I know. But still, how would he know where to find us? Skinner was the only one who knew. What if someone wants to know where we are? Or worse, where Mulder and Dana are."

"John Doggett, I'd never thought I'd live to hear you say 'what if'."

"Hey, I'm just trying to think like they would."

"I know John. It's just…" She looked up at him, "If Dana thought for one moment that Will was her son, she'd do anything to protect him. Besides, I think he is," she added

"I do too, I'd just like to be prepared for anything." John stood up and began pacing. "So the person who's feeding Will names, knows that Skinner would tell him where we were, that we aren't dead and that we are two of three people who know how to find Dana Scully and Fox Mulder," he deduced.

"And this person knew where to find Will."

"Because they knew he is Dana and Fox's son." John shook his head, "Damn. We gotta get outta here."

"Where are we going to go?"

"D.C. first. We can get a hold of a few things there while we're at it." John picked up his cell phone and punched in a number. "It's Dog," John said as the other line picked up. "I'll meet you at ten till 7. Usual place. Bye."

John hung up and looked over at Monica. He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster, and she returned it, but in both their gestures there was an exchange of foreboding. They both knew what the other was thinking: all their lives had just taken a huge unexpected turn.

While Will was packing his things he picked up his PDA, noting there were two new messages for him. The voice message was from Madeline.

"It's Saturday and I'm still in DC," Her voice was edgy over the phone. "Did you get answers or more questions? The journey's not over yet. I'm at 555-0329. Call me."

Will smirked to himself, thinking of how Madeline could be in a fret over him. He read the next message, this one from Bridget. Will, it read, I'm hoping this reaches you well and that you're safe at the moment. I hope you got all the answers you needed. Meet me at the old FBI museum in the basement at 7:30 pm on Sunday. I'll see you then.

"Will?" Monica's voice called from downstairs.

Arthur Roe's Apartment
Alexandria, VA
June 3
5:30 pm

Madeline cracked one eye open. Light flooded in from the window across from her and she remembered she wasn't home. She sat straight up and glanced around the room, trying to recognize where she was. Her head ached from fuzziness.

"Hey, good morning," a familiar voice greeted her. "Or should I say good afternoon?"

Madeline looked over and saw Arthur Roe pulling on a lace-up boot. "What time is it?"

"A quarter past five in the evening. You've been asleep for a while. I don't think you moved," he told her.

"What happened?" She asked.

He grinned as he bent to tie his shoe. "Let's see we went to eat, I had a burger, you had fries and half a sandwich before you passed out into it. Then I brought you here so you could sleep it off."

She frowned, glaring at him a little. "I see," she said dubiously.

He hid another smirk by bending and checking his other boot. "Don't worry," he added, "I was a gentleman."

"I have no doubt," she replied with a little smirk of her own.

"Here," Roe got up and disappeared into the kitchenette, returning with a water bottle and two tablets. "For the nasty headache I'm sure you have," he told her as he handed her the items.

"Come on," Roe said. "I found your car and got your things. You should get dressed, we're going to meet someone."

Madeline frowned. "Who?"

Roe brought out two boxes and set them on the bed in front of Madeline. "Remember how I said I joined the FBI for the X-Files?"

"Yeah," Madeline said slowly.

"I found them," he replied. "Well, some of them. When I realized what I had I contacted Agent Doggett, I became his inside man at the NPIB."

"How long were you with the FBI before it became the NPIB?" Madeline asked.

"Two years. My record was good enough for them to keep me in the NPIB, only 25 former FBI agents were transferred."

Madeline studied Roe's face, he couldn't have been older than 30, if he was that. He answered her before she could even ask her question.

"I graduated from high school when I was 14," he explained. "I was 19 when I got my degree in Behavioral Science and Psychology. I applied to the FBI and was denied twice so I traveled for a year. I applied again when I was 20 and was accepted, I trained for a year and became an Agent, that's when I was stationed in Arizona. NPIB took effect in 2013, and I've been working for them ever since."

"So Agents Doggett and Reyes are alive?" Madeline asked after he finished his little biography.

He nodded, "And that's who we're meeting."

She was beginning to understand. "Did you know I was gonna be there in the basement?"

He shook his head. "No, that was kind of a surprise. But I can guess who you are."

"Really?" Madeline asked, daring him just a little. "How do you know who I am?"

"I told you I worked in the field office on the Navajo reservation?"

"In Arizona, I know," she said.

"It was what you said, or more importantly how you said it." When the bewildered expression on her face didn't waver, he continued. "You said din-neh-ih. That's a code word from World War II, a code that's over 75 years old. So I took a guess and now your face is telling me that I'm right."

Madeline glared at him. "How do you know?"

"Albert Hosteen is in some of the files I rescued, he was a World War II codetalker that helped the two agents before Doggett and Reyes. So you're either from the reservation where Hosteen lived or you're related to him."

Madeline's face went slack but she covered it up quickly. "Okay you're smart." She smiled at him. "I'll go get ready." She took her suitcase into the bathroom with her and turned on the shower. She opened her suitcase and there where she had put it after she took it off of Will when he slept in the car was the gun. She took a quick shower and got dressed, she holstered the gun in her jeans in the small of her back and walked out of the shower.

Roe stood up when she entered the room and made to pick up the boxes, Madeline pulled the gun and pointed it at him before he could. "Don't move." She commanded. "Put your hands up."

"Madeline," Roe said slowly, his eyes flickered from the gun to her eyes. He held her gaze. "What are you doing?"

"How do you know who I am?"

"I told you how," Roe said to her.

"Where's Will?"

"Coming with Doggett and Reyes," he replied.

"And you didn't know who I was until I spoke? And you knew about Albert and the code before, from the X-Files?"


Her determination began to falter and he took that opportunity. "I haven't lied to you, Madeline."

"Show me," she gestured with the gun to the boxes. "Show me a file with Albert."

He pulled off the top and thumbed through the files in the box. He found one. He opened it for her to read and read from it himself. " 'I arrived at the residence of Hosteen, Albert, at 1300 in Two Grey Hills on the New Mexico-Navajo Reservation. I inquired about the train car and Albert's nephew, Hosteen, Eric, volunteered to take me.' " He stopped when he saw her lower the gun.

She was silent for a moment. Her face screwed as if she was listening for something. Then she relaxed. "Okay," she said, placing the gun back in the small of her back. "Let's go."

"So you believe me now?"

"No, but Albert just told me to," she replied, leaving him bewildered. He picked up the boxes and followed her out.

J. Edgar Hoover FBI Museum
Washington D.C.
6:50 pm

Will followed John and Monica through the hallways of the old building. They had snuck in through a door that had been propped open in anticipation for their arrival. They proceeded to the elevator and took it up.

"Kinda spooky being back here," John commented once they were inside the elevator.

A smile twitched at the corners of Monica's mouth. The joke was lost on Will, but it didn't matter. They got off the elevator, went down the hallway and turned left into an office. Will's anxiety eased as they entered the office. Waiting there was Madeline, other than the troubled look on her face, she seemed all right. Her head snapped around when the three of them came in and it seemed that whatever that had been previously troubling her was pushed aside and relief washed over.

Madeline stood to go to his side but John spoke first. He held out his hand and for the first time Will noticed the other person standing with Madeline. He was tall, had sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, and was handsome. The good-looking man shook John's hand.

"Arthur," John regarded him.

"John," Arthur Roe nodded back. He smiled at Monica. "How are you?"

"We're good, Arthur," Monica replied then looked over at Madeline. "You're Will's friend?"

Madeline's eyes darted at Will then back to Monica. "Yeah. I'm Madeline."

Monica smiled, "I'm Monica, and this is John."

"Now that we're all acquainted," John said, "Art, you brought everything?"

Roe nodded, "We're going where I think we're going?"

John sighed, "Yeah."

Will frowned, "Wait a minute, are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

Monica turned to Will, "All of us meeting wasn't an accident. We have to keep you safe now, and the only way we can do that is to go somewhere where now one will find us."

Madeline snorted, "Right, just like they wouldn't find Will."

John and Monica exchanged a look. "Obviously someone found out," John said.

"Why am I so important?" Will asked.

The three younger people didn't miss another look between the older couple. "What aren't you telling me?" Will asked again, his voice warbled with tension.

"Will we can explain everything later, but right now…" Monica started but Will cut her off.

"Explain it to me now!" He shouted making Madeline and Monica take a step back from him.

Monica didn't get a chance to even open her mouth before Roe snapped his head to the door which caused them all to do the same.

"Quiet," he ordered. "Someone's coming."

He, John and Monica all pulled out a gun from the shoulder holsters on their bodies. "Get back," John barked, hushed, to Will and Madeline. Hours seemed to go by before they heard another noise. It sounded something like the muffled static of a two-way device.

Roe seemed to relax, "It's just the night guard, Mitch." He holstered his weapon. "Stay here, I'll get rid of him." He walked outside, was out of sight for two seconds, when a loud pop was heard and Roe flew back across the hall. A beanbag launcher caught him square in his torso. Suddenly a tear gas grenade was thrown into the room, instantly filling the air with fog.

"Run!" John yelled and the four of them ran through the outer office and into the hall, Monica and John began firing as soon as they got into the hallway. Yelps and shouts could be heard through the smoke, indicating that they were in fact hitting humans.

"Downstairs!" Monica shouted over the gunfire.

Will grabbed Madeline's hand and they raced towards the stairwell. They jumped over Roe's body and Madeline skidded to a halt.

"What are you doing?" Will yelled at her.

It took Madeline a second to check and make sure Roe was breathing. Then she jumped up and took hold of Will's hand again. They pushed through the door and Madeline jerked Will back, "Wait!"

They held the door open, watching Monica and John back slowly towards them, still firing. The air was heavy with gun powder, tear gas fumes and ozone. John's gun clicked empty, he ejected the magazine and fumbled in his pocket for another. In that moment, two metallic fangs attached to wires shot out and latched onto the area between John's neck and shoulder. His body froze, convulsed violently then dropped to the floor where he stayed there immobile.

Monica cried out for her husband and made the mistake of turning when another loud pop occurred and a projectile beanbag came at her. It hit her in the back and her body was roughly forced forward and she landed a few feet from John.

Madeline screamed and Will tugged her away. They flew down the stairs, not looking back until they got to the basement.

"Hold on," Will said, before they took the door out into the underground parking garage. He turned and ran down the hall. Madeline chased after him. He didn't slow until he got to the last office. The office Madeline had been in the previous day.

"What is it?" Madeline asked, out of breath.

"Aunt Bridget?" Will called out into the dark room. Madeline flipped on the light switch for them and the room brightened. They saw no one there.

"Will, let's go," she urged.

Will nodded in compliance and they turned to leave but froze in surprise when they saw a woman standing behind them.

"William!" The woman cried out in relief. "I'm so glad to see you're okay."

"Aunt Bridget?" Will looked relieved as well. "What the hell is going on?"

Instinctively Madeline pulled the gun from the back of her jeans and held it at her side, shielding it from Bridget.

"Will," Madeline whispered to him. "We have to go."

"What are you talking about?" Will asked her, his voice louder than she would've liked.

"She's not…" Madeline was cut off by a swift cuff to the side of her head. Neither of them had noticed a person creeping up behind them. They grabbed the gun so rapidly from her hand and hit her with it that she was already on the floor when Will realized what happened.

"I'm sorry William," Bridget said as she took out a gun and pointed it at him. "You have to come with us now."

Will looked at the man now at his side and recognized him as the man he knew as Shaker. He looked back at his aunt wielding the gun and was stunned when she squeezed the trigger.

Instead of a bullet ripping through his abdomen, a dart embedded itself neatly into his chest. He fell back, knocking his head against the cold, hard floor. Stars exploded behind his eyeballs and the world swirled away into black.

Part 2: Un-Earthed

Madeline: "Life has a way of coming full-circle. If we believe that we were created from the mud of the Earth, we live, we procreate, we leave our offspring on the Earth and we die, once again becoming one with the earth.

Or do we come from elsewhere? When we look up to the stars at night, are we glimpsing our true origins? Did they come here and plant their seed in the Earth, thus creating our womb?

Life is created every moment of every day, yet it is the greatest mystery to which there is no answer. To know our true origins is to know the unknowable. It is the answer that and been sought since the beginning of human civilization. And with every generation that fails, the next is closer to succeeding.

While science and religion seek to explain, to give this answer, lives are still being lived. And there are lives intersecting to bring one life full-circle."

Will heard a woman's voice singing to him. It was soft, but upbeat in tempo. He couldn't understand the words but knew the voice loved him. He tried to open the eyes to see who it belonged to but when he did there was just black. The voice faded and he was lying on a dirt floor. Above him, stood an elderly man. His skin was bronze and baked by the sun. His face was cracked with deep lines, making him look not just old but also dignified. The old man's hair was white and done in two long plaits that snaked down his shoulders.

Will knew that this man was strong in spirit, his moist brown eyes reflected power but without corruption. For a moment, as he stared into his eyes, Will saw the man flicker in appearance from Madeline and back again. Something clicked in Will.

"Albert?" He whispered. Albert seemed to smile gently.

Suddenly a pain ripped through Will's mind. Like a surge of lightning, sparking the atoms in his brain, taking control of him. His body erupted in a seizure. He felt Albert graze his forehead with his arthritic hand and the seizing stopped and he was calm.

Hope Medical Facility
June 4, 2019
8:30 am

"What's wrong now?" Shaker demanded. He looked out through the window at William. He was lying, strapped down, on a table in the middle of a sterile operating-type room, a half-dozen doctors surrounded him. After more than eight hours of treatments on the boy; Shaker was beginning to grow restless and irate.

Bridget stood next to him. Her hand covering her chin and mouth in thought as she viewed her nephew. "He's relapsed again."

"Well, those doctors keep pumping him full of drugs, his body's going to do that," Shaker pointed out, his agitation waning.

"But his mind is strong," she told him. "William can take it." As an afterthought she added, "You still think it is a good idea to do this now?"

Shaker glowered at her then looked back out at William, "I'm just the messenger."

"And you don't shoot the messenger?"

A sardonic grin crept across his face, "In my case, it'd be futile."

Near the Four Corners
Apache County, Arizona
June 4, 2019
9:07 am

Madeline slowly opened her eyes. She knew again that this was not her bed, and she was no longer in Washington DC. The air was hot, but the air conditioning unit in the place made it considerably cooler. She sat up on the bed, instantly becoming aware of the shooting pain in her head.

"Oh you're awake," Monica's familiar voice said behind her. Madeline swiveled around and saw a weary but smiling Monica. The older woman's face was bruised and scratched where she had fallen. Madeline remembered seeing her get hit with a beanbag and fall and her screaming before Will pulled her away.

"Where's John and Roe?" Madeline asked.

Monica nodded over her shoulder. "Back there getting patched up. Come on and I'll clean you up too."

Madeline nodded, her head hurt with every movement. She stood up and the world swirled but she regained her balance after a moment and followed Monica into the living room which was substituting as a make-shift trauma ward.

John was sitting upright on the couch, shirt off, tiny scratches covered his torso, arms and face. A patch of gauze and salve covered the burned area where he was hit with the taser fangs.

Roe was sitting in a chair near him, shirt off too, wincing as another man wrapped his middle with a long ACE bandage. Roe smiled wide when he saw Madeline.

"Hey sleepyhead," he wheezed.

"Hey," she replied, not looking at him, but at the huge bruise that covered his sternum.

"Don't worry," he told her, "It feels worse than it looks."

She laughed a little and so did he, grimacing as he did so. Painfully, he reached up to lightly stroke the side of her head. "They got you good didn't they?"

She nodded, "Where's Will?" she asked turning to John and Monica.

Silence fell across the room. "They took him," Roe finally answered.

"Took him where?" She asked.

"We don't know," John sighed. "We all barely got away as it was."

Monica guided Madeline to the spot next to John and pulled up a chair next to her. She began cleaning off the dried blood on Madeline's cheek, ear and hair. John stood up and got his shirt, pulling it on and wincing. "What happened?" he asked Madeline.

"Somebody snuck up behind us. They hit me with my gun and then everything went dark." She explained.

John nodded, "Yeah we found you in the basement. You woke up on the plane and began screaming for Will. You said 'she took him'."

Madeline shrugged, "I don't know. There were to other people there. Will knew one of them."

"The woman?"

She shrugged again, "Maybe."

The man finished bandaging Roe. "There," he said. "Just try not to like, breathe."

Roe coughed, "That shouldn't be too hard." He got up, clutching his abdomen and lied on the couch as Madeline moved aside a bit for him. She looked at the other man. He was stocky, a little shorter than her, had spiky dark blond hair and a trimmed moustache and goatee. He wore glasses that hid his green eyes. He looked like he was about 25.

"I'm thirty-seven," he answered her, although she never asked a question.

Madeline stared at him. "I didn't say anything," she stammered.

"That's Gibson," Roe told her. "Gibson Praise, this is Madeline No-last-name."

"Her last name's Hosteen," Gibson Praise told Roe.

Roe raised his eyebrows at Madeline, "So you are related to Albert?"

She glared daggers at him for a moment and turned back to Gibson, "How did you that?"

"Gib can read minds," Roe said. "It's all very spooky until you play chess with him."

"I don't use it anymore," Gibson said to Roe.

"I know, that's why I beat you all the time now," he grinned. "Agents Mulder and Scully rescued him a couple times. And so did he."

John smacked Roe on the back of his head. "You dumbass."

"What?" Madeline asked. "Who are they?"

Roe rubbed the back of his head and scowled at John. "Sorry."

"Who are agents Scully and Mulder?" she asked again.

Monica answered this time. "They're the agents that worked on the X-Files before John and I."

"They're Will's parents, aren't they?" she asked quietly.

Another uncomfortable silence fell over the room until Gibson spoke, surprising John and Monica. "Yes. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are Will's parents. Dana gave Will up for adoption when he was about a year old when some people tried to take him from her. It's they same people who took him now; they want Will for what he is.

"What is he?" Madeline asked, her voice a whisper.

"Special," Gibson replied. "Like me, but different."

Madeline's eyes watered at the thought of what Will might be going through, worst of all that he was alone in it. "Where is he?"

Gibson shook his head.

"We have to find him," she said her voice growing louder.

"We will," John said firmly. "We will."

Will was walking through the desert. Flat-topped mountains, mesas, rose up out of the ground, casting shadows on the valleys below. Saguaro cacti stood proudly around him, their arms reaching to the sun. Will stopped to admire a particularly large one of these green giants. He had only ever seen a picture of a saguaro in one of his encyclopedia books. At home in Wyoming they didn't have cactus, only mountain ranges and tall trees. Their ranch herded cattle at one time, before his dad fell ill. He liked the tall, snow-capped mountains at home, but here in the desert, the painted hues of browns, reds, and oranges were such a stark contrast against the ever-blue skies.

A figure made him look past the tall cactus and he saw Albert standing a few feet from them. He smiled, relieved to see him. "I thought you had left me," Will said.

"Your mind called you elsewhere, White Buffalo," Albert told him. "I couldn't go."

Will frowned, "That is not my name."

"What do you call yourself?"

"I don't remember," Will answered truthfully.

Albert asked, "What do others call you?"

Will tilted his head in thought. "Will."

Albert smiled, "Is White Buffalo willing to sacrifice everything for the green people?"

Will looked back at the saguaro cactus. "Is that what they are called?"

Albert nodded, "They are the green people, beautiful and proud. They carry long memories within them. Not unlike my people or yours."

"How's that?"

"They are slowly vanishing."

"My people are disappearing?"

Albert shook his head this time, "Nothing disappears without a trace."

Hope Medical Facility
June 4, 2019
10:46 am

Shaker leaned back in his chair, stifling a yawn. Another two hours had passed and there was still no progress on the subject. He wanted to leave, go to his modest apartment and catch some sleep but he couldn't. He couldn't leave until Bridget did and it didn't seem like the woman was leaving anytime soon.

Bridget, who was as dangerous as she was pretty, and everyone knew so. If you didn't, you found out the hard way. Shaker did have to admire her for her bluntness, but she lacked the drive that he had, for he had the most powerful motivator of all, more potent than love, hate, and stupidity.

Shaker looked over at Bridget. Somewhere between now and the basement, she had changed. She took her assignment with seriousness; protect the boy at all costs until the father dies. With their bosses' word that Mulder was dead, Bridget had to get her "nephew" out in a display of desperation. In time, Will would begin to understand his role little by little until the time came for him to become what he was created to be. However, Shaker mused, there was one thing that didn't add up.


"Hmm?" She murmured.

"Why did you have him go to New Mexico first?" he asked casually.

She responded without looking at him. "Those were the orders."

"Oh," Shaker nodded. "From who?"

Now Bridget looked at him, mirth dancing in her eyes. "Your bosses' didn't tell you?"

He frowned, "No."

She smirked, "I guess you'll have to ask them."

Shaker could feel anger boiling inside him. For a moment, he didn't care who she was he would shoot her dead right there in the room. His hand traveled to his gun holster and to his surprise he found it empty.

He looked over at Bridget, who held it aloft in her hand. "You better learn to keep that temper, Shaker. Save it for your precious Mulder."

He glared at her and a slew of curses flew across his mind but didn't make it to his lips. He took the gun from her then checked it to make sure it was still loaded. He stood up, "Go to hell," he said to her before slamming open the door and walking out of the room.

"I'll see you there," she replied quietly, looking back out at Will.

Near the Four Corners
Apache County, Northeastern Arizona

Madeline's eyes began to glaze over. She blinked so that she could focus on the type in front of her. It had been over four hours and she was getting frustrated. The five of them had began pouring through files, old newspaper clippings and letters in an attempt to figure out where Will could be. Old FBI and new NPIB facilities were immediately crossed of the list; it would be too easy if Will was there. Feeling more and more on edge and helpless, Madeline's attention began to wander. She looked over her papers at Roe. He was snoring lightly, every so often a groan of pain would come from him as he shifted.

Her eyes then wandered over to John and Gibson, both were deep in a quiet conversation she couldn't hear. Monica was sitting at the table across from her and Madeline met her gaze.

"Bored?" Monica asked.

Madeline chuckled softly. "Can you tell?"

Monica shrugged and stretched her arms above her head. "It's hard having all this and not getting anywhere.

Madeline nodded in agreement. "I keep thinking that something will click, a place or word will jump out at me and I'll know where Will could be."

"Will could be anywhere," Monica said, pointing out the obvious to Madeline's annoyance.

"He isn't," Madeline said firmly. "He's somewhere. Somewhere someone took him and he doesn't know why."

Monica frowned slightly at her choice of words but ignored it.

"I should've shot the woman first," Madeline said.

"Who was this woman?" Monica asked.

"I don't know. She knew Will and he knew her, I guess that's why I hesitated."

"You have good intuition," Monica told her, trying to be as comforting as possible.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "My intuition's for shit." She sighed, "I'm reading these files, files written by someone who knew Albert and Eric before I did."

"I thought Albert died before you were born," Monica asked.

"He did," She said indifferently. "You know, my father was a kid when he met the FBI man, um Mulder. He wasn't much younger than me and it changed him."


"The F… Mulder and his partner brought something to Albert. He understood the words, but they weren't regular Navajo words, they were a code for another code. My father didn't know the language, but Albert had him memorize this anyways. When Albert died, my father learned the language to know what Albert made him remember, and then he taught it to me."

Monica knew not to ask but she couldn't help her curiosity, "What is it?"

Madeline shook her head, "If I knew, maybe it'd help us find Will."

She turned and caught Gibson's eye. They stared at each other for a moment, a crease formed across Gibson's forehead then he relaxed and gave her a short nod.

"Son of a bitch!" John exclaimed suddenly.

His abruptness jarred Roe out of his light sleep and the agent bolted up right, yelping "Ow!" as he did so and clutching his chest.

"What is it?" Monica asked.

"Spender," he said with a growl. "That rat bastard. He would know where Will is." He gets up and stalks to the kitchen. Monica gives Madeline a reassuring but worried smile and followed him.

She looked at her husband, leaning over the kitchen sink, knowing full well how much he was hating this. She asked him quietly. "Would he? Would Jeffery Spender know where Will is?"

John shrugged, his shoulder flared in pain but he paid little attention to it. "He's the best lead we have so far," John offered. He looked over at her, "I'm sick of waiting around here, Monica. Will could be dead."

"He isn't, and we will find him. We owe that to Fox and Dana."

Unbeknownst to the couple in the kitchen, their voices carried out into the room where Roe, Madeline and Gibson sat. A thoughtful expression crossed Gibson's young-looking face and he sat quietly. Madeline swallowed a growing lump in her throat, trying to force away John's words that "Will could be dead". Roe watched Madeline.

John and Monica came back into the kitchen. Gibson nodded to them before John spoke. "We're going to find an old… friend," he stressed the last word with sarcasm. "You three stay here until you hear from us."

"Like hell you two are going alone," Roe said. "You'll need back-up."

"And that back-up should be able to lift a gun or at least breathe," Gibson said to him. "It makes sense that we split up for the time being."

"Gibson's right," John agreed. "The fact that we're all together now makes it dangerous. At least this way if the people that took Will want us, they'll have their attentions divided. The fact that we all got out of D.C alive is suspicious enough."

Roe had to admit that he was right. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "But I don't have to like it."

"It's settled then, we'll leave in an hour," John said.

Will woke up in a hospital bed. All the IVs and straps were gone and there were no doctors in sight. He saw clothes on a bureau and changed quickly out of his hospital gown. He peeked out of his room and into the corridor. There was no one. As stealthily as he could, he made his way down the hall. He passed by other empty rooms, turned a corner and nearly plowed into immaculately clear sliding double doors. He looked around for door controls and found them, the doors slid open and he entered a new corridor.

Will got no more than two steps when halted in his tracks, falling back as he did, when he walked by the first room. He scrambled back behind the solid wall and dared to steal a look out. Another clear set of double doors gave view to a whole room. A person lied lifeless on a gurney, surrounded by scrubs-wearing doctors that were performing similar tests to the ones that were done on him. He was unable to move. There didn't seem to be any guards or anything, and the doctors all looked too busy. Will took a breath and jumped to his feet and began to run to the end of the hall. None of the doctors even looked up as he ran as fast as he could through the hall. He passed a dozen rooms, all with the same scene as the first, but still no one saw him. He pushed his way through the first door he saw and found himself in obscurity.

A moment passed as he caught his breath in the dark, then unexpectedly, lights overhead flashed on and he was standing in a huge warehouse type of room. His eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, fearful that he had been caught he reached behind him for the door handle but it was already locked. Will saw hundreds of black body bags, stacked five high on racks, and spaced out in rows throughout the warehouse. He got a sudden chill, knowing almost certainly what was in those bags. He looked around and saw a light situated over a door. With mild trepidation, he picked his way through the rows. He caught the words on one of the tags that hung from each bag. "SUBJECT: Terminated CAUSE: Viral VACCINATION: None"

Will got to the door and opened it. It was another corridor, like the one before, with the same transparent doors looking into rooms. His anxiety was growing but he was less and less worried about getting caught. Only a few of the dozen rooms were occupied this time and there were no doctors. In one room, a thick black liquid dripped out from a large metal holder into a funnel connected to tubes running through the next room. The tubing ran all through the next room into another and was being pumped intravenously into three naked humans on gurneys. He heard a low buzz from across the hall and saw another room full of bees. Will kept walking through the hallway, turned another corner, found another dozen rooms, only this time there was screeching and crying coming from them. As he walked by and he saw women in labor, surrounded by masked doctors. He watched as each woman gave birth to a horribly disfigured infant. It was slimy from the fluids and had gray skin as if it did not get enough oxygen. But he soon recognized what they were from their almost non-existent mouths and huge black eyes.

Startled and horrified he ran down the hall to the next door and hesitated before opening it. He was beginning to feel like Alice chasing the white rabbit through Wonderland, only he never wanted to be here in the first place. The door shut behind him and he was up on a catwalk, down below him he watched men shove grown aliens into incinerators and toss the alien babies into fiery pits. Will's knees buckled and he was overcome with the sense that he was being set aflame as well. He struggled along the catwalk, looking to the end where the next door was, crippled by fear, confusion, and pain. Suddenly he realized that this was not just his fear, nor was it his confusion and pain he was feeling, it was the aliens below him. Gathering all the strength he could, he made it to the door. He managed to open the door and let it slam behind him before collapsing, to his surprise, on something soft.

After a few moments of lying there face down, trying to catch his breath and letting his body catch up to his brain, Will picked his head up and saw that he had made it outside the building. He sat back on his knees and ran his hands through the blades of cool green grass under him. It was such a difference to where he had just been, the beauty of a field like this surrounding a house of death like that. Down a few yards ahead of him was a sparkling lake. Standing by it was Madeline, in an outfit he hadn't really expected her to be wearing, a soft, flowing white cotton skirt and a white bohemian-inspired blouse. Her straight black hair was free from its one long braid and spilled down her back. A breeze kicked up across the lake, rippled her white skirt and her hair in the wind.

"Madeline!" He called out to her. She turned and rewarded him with a soft smile. He jogged towards her. Once he reached her he really realized how gorgeous she looked. The white against her copper-brown skin and her deep chestnut eyes looked out into the lake. He looked down into the water to see what she was seeing. Dead, bloated bodies of humans and aliens float just below the surface of this glistening calm lake.

Will took a dismayed step backwards. His mouth formed words that wouldn't come out.

"All their answers lie in you," Madeline said to him, not looking up.

Will shook his head angrily, "What about my answers?"

He watched her turn to him and placed her hand on his chest above his heart. Her hands trail up to either side of his head and she looked up into his blue eyes then his head wrenched back.

Will opened his eyes. He is still on the operating gurney, strapped down. Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings/ He thrashed against his restraints, but it was no use. He felt a hard pinch on either side of his head, two long needles were being pulled out of his temples. Will began to scream.

Near Four Corners
Apache County, AZ

Madeline's eyes flashed open and she gasped. Roe and Gibson, playing a game of chess at the table, looked over at her. It had been some time since John and Monica had left and the three were left to their own devices. Madeline had fallen asleep, curled on the couch. Her heart raced and she felt clammy, as if she was splashed by cold water. She looked at Gibson first, while Roe just stared.

"What's wrong?" The agent asked her.

Gibson answered, "She knows where Will is."

Roe looked from Madeline to Gibson and back again. He frowned and Madeline stood up. "We have to go," she said, resolve evident in her voice.

Roe was bewildered. "But John and Monica…"

"We'll call them when we get there," Gibson said. He was already up and checking the gun John left.

"Whoa, no way," Roe said getting up. "You two aren't going anywhere without me."

"You can't go, Arthur," Madeline told him as grabbed her gun, the gun Will had pulled on her what seemed like so long ago. "You're still too weak and we're gonna have to move fast."

"Madeline," he said, concern coloring his voice. He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I can't watch you walk out into danger like this."

She kissed him softly on the cheek. "Then close your eyes," she said and pushed him in the chest. He yelped in pain and fell to the couch. When he looked up, she and Gibson were gone.

Hope Medical Facility
10:06 pm

The first thing Will felt was the hurt all over his body. It was a deep ache, past his skin and into his muscles and veins it seemed. The second thing was thirst and he became acutely aware that he wasn't alone in the room.

"If you're gonna sit there," he cracked out in a hoarse whisper. "You could get me some water."

Shaker moved and poured Will a glass of water from a pitcher. He topped it off with a straw and held it between Will's lips to suck through. When Will was done, Shaker set it back on the table. He looked over Will.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Will coughed out a chuckle, "You really expect me to answer that?"

Shaker conceded, "Right. Well, you'll feel better soon enough."

"What did you do to me?" Will asked.

Shaker exhaled, "I didn't do anything to you, I just watched."

"What's happened to me?" Will gritted his teeth.

"They've returned you to what you were. What you were meant to be," Shaker replied simply. "But don't worry, stress will only aggravate the treatment."

Will tried to move, but he was still strapped at the ankles and wrists, he could left his neck up but it hurt, a lot. "What treatment?"

"Reverse blood transfusions. The doctors have devised a way to filter all your blood out of your body, flush it free of what was hindering your abilities and then pumped all back in," Shaker explained. "Then they had to restart some nerve endings in your frontal lobe," His eyes were wide in mock concern. "I'm told it's very painful and precarious work."

Will was so angry, he couldn't think of what to say. "Why?"

"I told you, to restore you."

"To what?" Will glared at him. "I remember you. You told me people would be coming, because of my father, because of who I was."

"I didn't lie to you, did I? And now you're almost back to who you were."

Tears ran down the sides of his head and into his ears, "I don't understand."

Shaker's voice was soft, for a moment, Will believed that he did care somewhat. "You're gonna save the world, Will. They're coming and it is your blood that's going to save us."

Will shook his head, "I'm not your Jesus."

Shaker laughed, so ironically it was eerie. "God has nothing to do with this."

"Then what?"

"Every kid wishes they could be Superman, Will. I know I did. I always wanted to tie a cape around my neck and fly and kill the bad guys and save the world." He paused, a distant look in his eyes. "But I always ended up being Lex Luthor."

"Some how I get the feeling you're not as ambiguous," Will couldn't help but adding.

A Cheshire cat grin breaks across Shaker's face. "You're right on that. But still, feeling's the same. Superman wanted to be normal, he wanted to be Clark Kent all the time, and Lex wanted Superman's power, to be considered a hero."

"I'm not Superman."

"See, that's not entirely true. You're actually a lot more like him than you think."

Will lied still for a moment. The vision s of dying aliens and human test subjects were still fresh in his mind. Will looked up, towards the shadows. The rooms began to shake and Will felt himself come free of the straps and he lunged at the unsuspecting Shaker. They crash to the ground and Will's fingers close tightly around Shaker's neck. From the shadows, Bridget rushed forward and hauled Will off Shaker with more power than he thought she had. Bridget injected something into Will's neck and he slumped to the floor.

"No!" Shaker cried out raspy.

Bridget looked at him getting up. "Would you rather he kill you?"

Shaker didn't reply, merely glared at her and stood over Will who was fast slipping into unconsciousness. "Get him back in bed and strap him down. Tell the doctors to finish his treatments," he ordered and walked out of the room, rubbing his throat. Bridget watched Shaker leave then looked down at Will, who looked back up at her before his eyes rolled back and he was asleep.

Bryant Reynard's Residence
June 4

John knocked on the heavy door. He and Monica stood on the porch of a nice house that looked out into the harbor. They had gotten to Maine a couple hours earlier, got a car and took an hour's long drive from the airport to this small fishing community. The night air was crisp and Monica shivered.

"Mr. Reynard?" John called out knocking again. "Hello?"

"John, maybe this isn't the right place," Monica said.

"It's the right place," John said confidently.

They both saw movement at the window. "Mr. Bryant Reynard?" Monica tried this time. "We have to talk with you."

"Listen buddy, we don't got all night, and we know you're in there, so either open up or I'm gonna break down you're door," John said, he was on his last nerve.

Monica gave John a dirty look and knocked again. "Mr. Reynard… Jeffery?"

"Go away!" A voice called back.

"Jeffery Spender?" Monica asked again.

"To hell with this," John muttered and kicked the door in with little effort. Monica gave John another look before they entered. A man was sitting on a chair in front of them, gun in his hand.

"Put your hands up," he ordered before they got the chance to grab for their weapons. He studied their faces for a moment then knit his brows in confusion. "I know you two."

"Yeah no shit Sherlock," John spat. "Put that gun down."

The man hesitated a moment then complied. He stood up. "How did you find me?"

"You are Jeffery Spender?" Monica asked. The man didn't look like he did the last time they saw Jeffrey Spender. His face had been reconstructed, a long scar ran from his forehead down around his nose and cheekbone to his chin. His hair wasn't a bad-looking wig but his own wavy black hair flecked with gray.

He nodded, "The miracles of plastic surgery. The one medical field that keeps striving forward. Now, how did you find me?"

"We were FBI agents," John reminded him.

Jeffrey nodded and smiled a little.

"Have you been here this whole time?" John asked.

"Yes," Jeffrey replied. "After my brother's trial, I knew they'd hunt me down and kill me. They were content in destroying your careers, but me, like Mulder, had gotten too close to the truth. They were especially furious with me after I took Will away from them. So I disappeared like you did."

"Who are they?" Monica asked.

"The same men who've been continuing their experiments on humans and aliens, to develop the vaccine that will cure everyone once the aliens begin to re-colonize."

"I thought that was supposed to have already happened," John said, some disdain dripping into his speech. Even after all these years, he still had trouble coming to terms with the idea of aliens.

Jeffrey shrugged, "Dates change. I know you didn't come here to gloss over memory lane. What's up?"

"We need your help," Monica said. "They found Will."

Jeffrey shook his head, "That's not possible. Scully gave him up. She didn't even what family adopted him."

"That doesn't matter now," John said. "They, these men, have him now and we need to know where they could be keeping him.

Jeffrey sat back down on the chair. His face was miserable. "I don't know how…"

"A place. Any place, a starting point," John said. When Jeffrey didn't respond John grabbed him up by his shirt collar. "Listen to me, I don't really like you. I've read all your files from your work on the X-Files. You may be Fox Mulder's brother, but you're nothing like him."

"John…" Monica said but he ignored her.

"You know what's going on here," John continued. "So you can help, no, you will help, because your nephew is in danger. And I damn well won't sit by and wait until Armageddon or when these aliens come to Earth when there's something I can do about it. But it starts by finding Dana and Mulder's son."

Jeffrey looked into John's eyes, and saw that this man was never going to back down. John would go to the ends of the Earth and back to protect the people he cared about, and right now that person was Will. Jeffrey gave a fractional nod and John let go.

"There's a place in Colorado, but…" Jeffrey paused. "It might be too late."

The color drained from Monica's face and John's jaw dropped. "What do you mean?" Monica whispered.

"They've already begun their treatments," Jeffrey replied.

John was confused, but Monica understood. "Will isn't the same anymore though. Not after what you did."

Jeffrey shook his head. "The magnetite injection was only a way to put Will's alien cells into hibernation. They would lie dormant permanently unless someone administered the right technology, cleansing Will's blood of the magnetite but that could kill him."

"I'm… I just don't understand," John said.

"Will carries the anti-virus," Jeffrey explained wearily. "Because both parents were infected once with alien DNA, then produced him, he's able to fight off the alien re-colonization. He won't be an alien-human hybrid slave."

"So Will's blood is the vaccine," Monica said.

"Yes. And his children and children's children will carry it too."

"That's why they took him," John said. "To restore the alien DNA and cure everyone. He's patient zero."

Hope Medical Facility
June 5

Madeline pulled into the parking lot and shut off his car. Gibson looked at her. The whole ride over was in complete silence. Madeline drove staring straight ahead. Her eyes locked on the road and her mind locked with concentration.

"I don't know how I know, but he's here," she said to Gibson.

"I believe you," he said. "Let's go get him."

They got out of the car and walked in. The facility was more like a clinic. There was a waiting area and a receptionist. Madeline held her head while Gibson spoke. "My sister has been having really bad headaches," he said to the nurse.

"Has she fallen recently?" The nurse asked.

Gibson shook his head, no. "It started after she went camping. When she got back she said that she could hear voices."

The nurse frowned, "Voices?"

Gibson leaned forward and whispered. "I don't really believe her but she said she was abducted. You know, by aliens."

The nurse narrowed her eyes and looked at them. They didn't look like brother and sister. The male was young-looking, maybe around 25, and the girl looked Native-American. Still she had to report any alien abduction claims. "Take this," she handed Gibson a clipboard, "And go to the 3rd floor. Ask for Dr. Edan."

Gibson nodded graciously and guided Madeline to the elevators. Once they were inside Madeline sighed relieved. "Did you get anything?"

"She think she's working at a neurology clinic. And she has 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' stuck in her head."

"Well, where to?"

"What do you mean where to? I thought you knew where Will was."

Madeline glared, "I did the hard part. I figured you'd be able to pinpoint him."

Gibson thought for a moment, "The nurse did think something about alien abductions. That she had to report all claims to Dr. Filmore."

"So we look for Dr. Filmore," Madeline said as the elevator dinged for the 3rd floor. They stepped out and walked to another receptionist's desk. "Excuse me," she said with a smile. "We're looking for Dr. Filmore's office. Is this it?"

The pretty receptionist smiled, "No, his office is down on one of the sublevels. Did you need to see him?"

"We just wanted to thank him for all the help he's given us," Madeline replied.

"He is a wonderful doctor," the pretty receptionist agreed. "Take the elevator at the far end of the hall, sublevel 4. If you don't find him in his office, you can leave a message with his secretary."

"Thank you so much," Madeline said and she and Gibson left the office. "Well?" Madeline asked Gibson.

"Dr. Filmore treated her father," he replied. "She didn't lie and she thinks you're hot," he grinned.

Madeline rolled her eyes and they got to the elevators. They got on and a bald man in a white labcoat got on as well. Before Madeline could punch the button for SL-4, Gibson took a hold of her hand. "Wait," he whispered. The man pressed SL-5. The three of them rode down together, Gibson help Madeline back until the bald man got off. "Follow him," he nudged her.


"He's been monitoring Will."

Madeline and Gibson trailed the bald man down the corridor, careful not to follow too close. Gibson shook his head, "Stop, he suspects us. Duck into the next room."

They did. It was a recovery room with a patient in a body cast. "Now where?" Madeline asked, her voice low.

"I don't know. I got flashes of a room. 304 maybe?"

Madeline looked at the room number they were in. 206. "It's at the end of the hall, c'mon."

They walked out and as nonchalantly as they could they made it to room 304. There was no guard posted outside and for a moment Madeline wondered if this would be too easy. They got into the room and Madeline stopped. Next to her Gibson drew in a sharp breath. It was Will. He was lying on the bed, strapped down. He was pale and his lips were cracked and dry. There were dark circles under his eyes which were wide open, staring up at the ceiling.

Madeline took a step towards him, "Will?" He made no movement. "Will, it's Madeline."

"You're not real," Will said. His voice was gravelly. "Please just go away."

Madeline suppressed the urge to cry. "No, Will. I'm real and I'm here to get you out."

Will couldn't move his head because it was strapped down, but he looked over. "You're not a dream?"

She shook her head, "No."

"I saw Albert. I communed with the spirits," he whispered, a ghost of a smile played around his lips and eyes.

She laughed softly. "So did I. We're getting you out of here." She and Gibson began to unstrap him. Carefully, they eased him into a wheelchair. Gibson found some scrubs and surgical masks and they dressed into them.

They wheeled Will out and got to the elevator when a young-looking doctor stopped them. "Hey!" He yelled. "Where are you going?"

"Prep for surgery," Gibson said quickly.

The doctor looked dubious. "I thought he was done with treatments."

"Hey I just take orders. You should talk to Filmore," Gibson jerked his thumb back. The elevator dinged and Madeline pushed Will in. She silently urged Gibson to hurry.

"Filmore ordered this?"

"That's what I heard," Gibson said.

"Then take him down," the doctor said. Gibson nodded and got onto the elevator, he stopped the doors from closing he turned to Madeline. "Get the car and meet us in the underground parking lot."

Madeline nodded and got off. Without running and drawing attention to herself, she got to the next elevator alcove. She took it up and once outside she ran for the car. She jumped in and started the ignition and squealed out of the parking lot and around the building where the underground parking lot was. There was no guard at the booth and she had another gut feeling that all this seemed so much simpler than it should be. She drove in and Gibson was just coming out of the elevator. She set the emergency brake and ran around to help Gibson get Will into the back seat. Then they got in and took off.

In the building, Bridget walked into Will's empty room and came across Shaker standing there. "He's gone," she said.

"I know."

"You're just letting this happen?"

Shaker turned to her. "Yeah, I am."


"He needs to realize what he is."

"You don't care about him," Bridget accused.

"And you care about him a little too much, I think," he said maliciously. His face softened, "Beside, this way he'll lead us to the rest of them."

Bridget looked back to Will's empty bed, her face troubled.

Eric Hosteen Residence
Two Grey Hills, NM
4:23 pm

Gibson gazed at Will from his seat at the end of the couch Will was lying on. Gibson toyed with his goatee thoughtfully, his brows knit in thought. Madeline was on the phone calling John and Monica.

"We got him…" she said. "Get Roe and meet us in New Mexico… We'll explain it all when you get here… Yes he's safe. Okay… see you." She hung up.

She looked over at Will and at her father meditating over him. "How is he?"

"His spirit is strong," Eric replied. "But his body is sick."

"Can we heal him?" She asked.

Eric looked over at Gibson. They shared an uncomfortable, but knowing look.

Gibson spoke first. "Madeline, I think Will's dying."

The words hit Madeline like a sledgehammer. "What?"

"Whatever they were doing to him, it was killing him, but it was keeping him alive," he explained. "I don't know what we can do."

Madeline shook her head. "I don't accept that," she said. She went to the bags her and Gibson had brought and rummaged through one of them. She found what she was looking for and held it up.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked.

Madeline turned on Will's PDA. The screen greeted her with "Hello William". She looked at her dad then at Will. "Saving him, I hope."

Two Grey Hills, NM
7:56 pm

"Madeline?" Will groaned. The past few hours he had been shivering and shaking. He felt feverish and sick, like the time he caught pneumonia and had a fever of 105 degrees that made him delirious.

Eric Hosteen wheeled over to Will who was lying on his couch. He pressed his hand over Will's forehead. "Don't talk."

Will opened his eyes, unable to focus, he searched the ceiling above him. "Eric?" What happened? Where's Madeline?"

"She went to get help," Eric told him. "You need to lie back and rest."

"No," Will pushed the blanket on him off and got to him feet. He was dizzy for a moment, but it passed, and he was okay. In fact, he felt better than okay.

Gibson walked into the room and saw Will standing. "Will…"

"Where did she go?" Will asked him.

Gibson probed Will's mind and found that Will was trying to read his. "Warehouse in Roswell." Gibson answered telepathically.

For a moment Will looked startled from Gibson speaking to him in his mind, but then he nodded and left, grabbing Gibson's gun on the way out.

Outside Roswell, NM
5:09 am

The sun hadn't yet risen and Madeline was waiting out in the desert. She could see the small town of Roswell just a few miles to her right. She shivered in the cool, before dawn air and yawned. It had been more than 24 hours since she had gotten any sleep and exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her. Still, she waited there, in front of an abandoned aircraft hanger and warehouse, waiting for the woman who had betrayed Will to arrive.

Ten minutes later, just as the sun began to rise, a car pulled up, it stopped and Bridget stepped out.

"You're late," Madeline said.

Bridget gave her a haughty look. "I believe I said, six am."

Madeline glanced around her. "You came alone."

"As instructed," Bridget said. "Let's go inside." They entered the warehouse, Bridget ahead of her as a sign of good faith. Before Bridget could speak Madeline did.

"Will's dying," Madeline said flatly.

Pain flashed in Bridget's light eyes, "I know."

"How do I save him?"

"You can't."

"Then how…" Madeline trailed off, a lump grew in her throat.

"His cells are mutating. Changing back into their true form," Bridget explained. In a day or so, he'll be fine. But you have to leave the country now, before it's too late."

"Too late for what?"

"He's still in danger. From the men who want him."

Madeline tilted her head, "Why are you helping me?"

"I helped raise Will," Bridget said, her voice cracking a bit. "I watched him grow up. I knew what he was, what he is, but he grew up so beautifully, into such a wonderful person. I love him."

As soon as the last words left Bridget's mouth a loud crack rang out like a car backfiring. It was only when Madeline saw the blood blossoming beneath Bridget's shirt she understood that Bridget had been shot. She whirled around and saw Shaker standing there, holding a smoking gun.

Near the Four Corners
Apache County, AZ

"Hey Art, get up!" John slammed open the door.

"What the hell?" Roe jumped up. He looked outside and it was still dark. He saw John and Monica standing there. "When'd you guys get back?"

"Just now," Monica replied.

"Did Madeline find Will?" Roe asked.

"Yeah, we're meeting them, c'mon," John said.

"Is he alive?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Did they finish the treatments?" Roe asked and suddenly realized his mistake.

Monica and John looked at him. How would he know about that?

"Art," John started slowly. "Did you know where Will was?"

Roe looked away, hurt in his eyes. "Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Monica asked. Roe didn't look at either of them, he was guilty.

John shook with rage. "You fu …" John didn't get to finish his sentence.

Roe took out his gun from behind his back and aimed it at the weaponless couple. "I'm sorry."

Warehouse in Roswell, NM
5:24 am

Madeline stood staring down the barrel of Shaker's gun. She hadn't really meant to think of something to trivial at the moment, but she couldn't help noticing that while so much had changed over the years, guns hadn't. Shaker had the gun aimed at her stomach, if he so chose to shoot her, her death would be agonizing and a long fifteen minutes. Madeline identified that Shaker was the type of man that did not dispense out mercy. Madeline couldn't reach for her gun, though she desperately wanted to. She looked around, surprised to see that Bridget was gone, and left only a small pool of blood.

"Don't think about doing anything stupid," Shaker said to her.

It's too late for that, Madeline thought. "What do you want?"

"You know you are pretty clever, getting Will out of the facility so easily."

"Actually, I thought it was a little too easy," Madeline retorted.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm still trying to figure out how you found him in the first place," he said. "Oh well, just another fun piece to this jigsaw. Now, where is he?"

"I don't know."

"I wouldn't lie to me, girl," he wiggled his gun in his hand. "I'm the one holding the gun. Tell me."

Madeline shrugged, "You're just gonna have to shoot me then, cuz I'm not telling you a damn thing."

Shaker's eyes twitched and he smirked. "I knew you'd say that." He beckoned and from behind him John and Monica stepped forward. Roe was behind them, wielding a gun. Shaker looked into Madeline's eyes. "If you don't value you life maybe you'll value theirs more."

"Don't say anything Madeline!" John shouted and Roe cuffed him upside the head.

Madeline glared death at Roe. "You bastard," she growled.

"Madeline, I'd reconsider what you said," Roe told her.

She looked back and forth between John and Monica then whispered. "I'm so sorry." They nodded, understanding what she had been forced into. She looked down at the ground. "He's in Arizona."

"She's lying," Roe said.

Shaker nods and Roe cocked his gun. "I'll ask once more," Shaker said, his voice steady and cool. "Where is he?"

Madeline looked up at Shaker. Her jaw set and her eyes hard. "Go to hell."

A new smirk passed over Shaker. "I will," he said and Roe squeezed the trigger. The last thing Madeline heard was the concussion of the gun.

Part Three: "Restoration"

Warehouse in Roswell, NM
5:25 am

Madeline's world came to a standstill. The bullet traveling towards her at such a speed that she thought she could have plucked it out from the air. John and Monica were both locked in reaction expressions, eyes squeezed closed and cowering slightly. Shaker had a devil's smirk on his face while Roe looked almost apologetic, like he had made the worst mistake of his life. In that moment, where everything became so clear, Madeline dropped down to the floor as the world began revolving again.

The bullet zinged just above her as she hit the concrete floor. Madeline whipped out her own gun and shot at Shaker. He skirted away and she missed. He took out his own gun and began firing on Madeline.

"No!" Roe yelled and ran towards her, pushing her out of the way. Shaker's bullets caught him twice in the back. Madeline caught him heavily and they stumbled away behind a metal air duct.

Madeline pulled him up, rougher than she should have, against the duct. "Just be still," she told him roughly.

"I'm really sorry," he coughed out.

"Shut up," she snapped, not caring to hear his apologies.

Roe shook his head, "We should've told you the plan."

Madeline frowned, "What plan?"

Wincing, Roe pulled up his shirt to reveal a bullet-proof vest. Madeline checked his back and extracted two neatly flattened bullets. For a moment the complicated expression of relief and the urge to hit him came over her. She glared at him and bullets dinged the air vent they were hiding behind. Madeline checked how many bullets she had left in her gun then peeked around the vent.

John and Monica had ducked for cover just as soon as the shooting began. They shot at Shaker but he shot back and hit Monica in the leg. She screamed out in pain. Madeline heard Shaker's gun click empty and she took that opportunity to aim for him. She jumped out, gun drawn but he was gone.

She helped Roe up and they went over to John and Monica. John was pressing down on Monica's thigh, trying to slow the bleeding. "It's okay, hon," he told her. "It's not that bad." He looked up at Roe who was already calling ambulance services.

"We've got to get back to Will," Madeline said breathlessly.

Roe hung up and bent down to look at Monica's wound. "I'll take care of her," he said to John. He handed him his keys, "Take my car."

Monica nodded at her husband, "I'm okay, John."

John was reluctant for a moment then kissed his wife's forehead and ran outside with Madeline.

Bridget flinched when she heard the shooting, but didn't stop. The desert air was warmer now with the sun having risen and it burned in her lungs with every breath she took. Her hand was pressed against the wound in her stomach in an attempt to pause the bleeding. She got to her vehicle outside and rummaged in her jacket pocket for the keys. In her haste, she dropped them on the ground and when she stooped to pick them up a shadow fell over her.

She looked up and saw Will standing above her. "William?" She moved to stand up.

"Stay there," he ordered and Bridget took stock of the fact that he was holding a gun, aimed at her head.

"You're not going to kill me," she said, mustering all her confidence.

Will's face was unresponsive. "Are you so sure? You tried to kill me, all those tests, those treatments. I nearly died. Seems fair."

"No," she shook her head. "I'd never put you in any harm."

He laughed in disbelief. His bitter cackle was so unnerving Bridget felt the hairs on her neck rise. "Is that so?" He continued. "Ever since Pops died, since my father died, I've been in danger. Part of that is your fault."

"I had to protect you, William," she said, her voice verging on insistence. "No matter what."

"And my mother!" He cried, his emotions surging. The gun trembled in his tightened grip. "Was she in the way of your job? Did you kill her!"

Bridget was silent and Will knew the truth. His chin quivered and his eyes filled up with tears. "Why?" he asked, she didn't reply and he cocked the hammer back on the gun. "Dammit, tell me why!"

Bridget looked up at him, "What difference would it make, William? Would it make you feel better knowing that I, someone you love, killed your parents? No, it'd haunt you the rest of your life, and you wouldn't trust anyone again."

"Did you know what I was?"


Will stared at her, "What am I?"

"You're special," she replied.

"Don't say that. That's not an answer. Just tell me the truth."

"You are the truth."

"I'm sick of this cryptic bullshit," Will snarled. "Do you know where I can find my parents?"

"I don't, but we can find them together."

Will's face softened and he nodded. He helped her up and held her close. "All you've ever done is lie to me," he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes widened and she gasped as William plunged a shiny metal rod into the base of her neck. He let her slip away from his embrace and she fell to the desert floor, a greenish substance oozed out from her neck.

Madeline and John burst out of the building and saw Will standing over a body. They ran up to him and from the green fluid and metal rod protruding out of her neck, John did a double-take. Madeline paid little attention to the woman on the floor and went up to Will.

"Give me the gun," she demanded softly.

Will looked at her and handed her the gun he walked away a few paces into the surrounding desert, lurched forward and vomited. Madeline and John watched from their places. Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked back to Madeline and John.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked.

John's face was bleak, "Monica was shot. Arthur called for an ambulance, but we gotta get you outta here first."

Will shook his head a negative, "It's over for right now."

"Will, you have to leave the country, Bridget said…"

"Bridget's a liar," he snapped.

John and Madeline backed away. Neither had heard such harshness from him and they exchanged a surprised look.

"Listen," John said, eyeing the now stoical Will. "It's not safe for you. So you're going to have hole up somewhere till we can figure everything out."

Will began walking away towards the car. John pulled Madeline back and handed her Roe's car keys. "Go to the Roswell Motel and check into room 19. Art will try to divert any NPIB dogs sniffing at your tails for the time being but you got to lay low until you hear from me."

"What about my dad and Gibson?"

"You dad'll be fine and Art is going to get Gibson as soon as things cool down."

Madeline nodded. Her eyes were filling fast with tears.

"Hey," John said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

She nodded again and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her pullover. "Thanks. Let me know about Monica, please?"

He squeezed her shoulders in assurance and let her go. They both looked towards the faraway screeching of ambulance and police sirens. "Go," he told her and watched her walk away.

Roswell Motor Inn
June 6
7:39 pm

Madeline adjusted the thin towel around her bust, making sure it was in place. She wiped a clear spot on the mirror, foggy from her recent shower. She shook her hair out from the turban towel, her damp black hair spilled over her shoulders. For a moment she stared at her reflection in the sweating mirror. A wave of emotions swelled up inside her and she began to cry. The last few days finally took their toll. She sobbed silently, still conscious of Will right out side the hollow wood door.

Minutes passed and she was done. She ran the sink faucet, splashed cool water on her face to reduce her puffy eyes. She dressed quickly into a cheap souvenir T-shirt that was four sizes too big and hung past the hem of her shorts. Madeline ran a hand through her hair desperately regretting not nicking a comb. She gathered her old clothes and dumped them into a plastic grocery bag. She took one last check in the mirror and exited the bathroom.

Will was still sitting where she had left him, where he had been since they arrived, sitting rigidly on the bed facing the window even though Madeline had drawn the dusty curtains shut as soon as they got there. She bit her lip, afraid she was going to cry again. She had driven and he had said nothing while they were in the car, nothing at the dinky souvenir shop where they got shirts to change into and nothing when they checked into room 19 at the Roswell Motor Inn.

Madeline desperately wanted him to speak to her, to tell her what happened to him, how he knew where to find her in Roswell. The last time she had seen him was on her couch, shivering with fever and unconscious.

"Will?" She dared to break the silence in the room.

He made no movement, no effort to acknowledge her. The phone trilled, making her jump but Will remained motionless. She snatched up the intrusive phone and barked a hello into it.

"Madeline?" John's New Yorker rasp came back to her.

"Yes, sorry, the phone scared me," she said dumbly. "How's Monica?"

"She's fine, they have her in a room and want to keep her over night. We had to spin them a gun-cleaning accident that the doctors seemed to buy," he said. "How's Will?"

Madeline looked over at Will. "He's fine," she lied. "He's resting."

"Has…" John hesitated over the phone. "Has anything happened?"

"No," Madeline said truthfully. "Absolutely nothing has happened."

"Oh, okay, good. Well, Art went to get Gibson an hour ago and I'll have them go to you when they get here."

"Sounds good," Madeline said.

"Okay, bye."

"Bye," Madeline hung up. She looked back at Will and sighed. His catatonia, it seemed, was not going away any time soon. Madeline lied down on the bed, facing away from Will.

In mere seconds, Madeline was asleep. Will exhaled deeply and stood to stretch. He hadn't meant to play such a ruse with her, not talking and not moving, but he knew she needed to rest and so did he. He sat back on the bed and lied on his side, facing her, mimicking her semi-fetal position. In the near darkness, he traced the outline of her curves with his eyes. His last conscious thought before drifting into sleep was of her.

Shaker barged through an office door and slammed his fists down on a desk. The man in the dramatic desk chair did not turn around, but spoke in a deep, almost lulling voice.

"You failed."

"I was played," was Shaker's reply, "By your recruit."

The man shrugged, "Agent Roe's allegiance was always with Doggett."

"So you knew he was unpredictable?"


Shaker's temper flared. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"You are on a need to know basis, Shaker, I wasn't about to hinder our chances of getting the subject back. If you knew Agent Roe wasn't on our side then you would've killed him."

"I'm failing to see how…"

"Before," the man cut him off sharply, "John Doggett and Monica Reyes resurfaced."

"That's another thing," Shaker added. "If you knew Doggett and Reyes were still alive, why didn't you send me after them first?"

"Need to know, Shaker" the man replied. "Plus Mr. and Mrs. Linde would never have given up the location of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully to us. Neither would they have give up the location of Gibson Praise, who we suspect is the sole informant of that couple's whereabouts."

"They're still in Roswell," Shaker said. "I can get Will back."

"That time will come. My superiors, your bosses, think it's best for him to come into his reacquired abilities on his own. In time, he'll realize what he is." The man paused. "And Shaker? They believe you were right in your assumption that Bridget was too close to the subject. Had he not disposed of her, you would've been called to do so."

Shaker's eyebrows went up, "He killed her?"

"Yes, and he knew she was not human. Already he is learning."

Shaker nodded and left the office more perturbed then before. If Will was able to master his capabilities, discover his origins, and reunite with his birth parents, Shaker was afraid that his bosses would realize their mistake and be in over their heads. When that happened, Shaker knew his days would soon be over as well.

Roswell Motor Inn
11:17 am

Will awoke the next morning to Madeline's sleeping face. She had changed positions during the night and was facing him, but he hadn't. Will had fallen into a deep sleep and for the first time in days he felt back to his old self. As carefully as he could, he got up. He stretched his arms out in front of him and when he did so the curtains opened up and sunlight spilled into the room.

He frowned and took a step back. On the bed, Madeline stirred from the sudden warmth. Will quickly shut the curtains manually and turned around. Madeline stretched out on the bed like a cat waking from a nap. She opened her eyes and saw Will standing before her, she sat up.

"It's good to see you've moved," she told him.

Will smiled almost bashfully, "Yeah… I'm sorry about yesterday." He sat on the bed next to her. "It was… confusing," he finished.

"Well don't make a habit out of it," she told him. She stood up and went to the bathroom. Will heard the water running and Madeline came back out.

Will was staring off into space again and Madeline's face softened. She sat next to him on the bed. "What'd they do to you?" she asked gently.

Will was silent for a long while; he twisted his hands and popped his knuckles. Madeline gathered her knees to her chest and watched as he struggled to speak. "I don't know," he finally replied.

"Will, you were dying," Madeline told him. "I saw you and my dad and Gibson said you were."

"I know. I think I was. I saw things," he looked at her. "Things I never have, but I knew what they were."

"What kind of things?"

His deep blue eyes stared past her, searching for the right words. "People. People being experimented on, dying… There were men they were trying to change people. They changed me. I know that."

Madeline shook her head, "No. They didn't." She put her hand over his. "I don't know why they took you, but we're going to find out. And we're going to find your parents."

Will nodded, accepting her comfort. "I saw Albert."

"That's what you said."

"Albert called me something. A name."

"What was it?"

"White Buffalo."

Madeline's face twitched slightly. "Does that mean anything else to you?" She asked quietly.

Will thought for a minute. "My Pops…" He started. "He used to do wood carvings and when I was a baby my room was decorated with buffalo, painted white. Why?"

She spoke slowly, remembering the stories her father told her. "Eric found something, something the FBI man came to see. But then there was an accident. Albert and my father found him and he was dying. Albert performed the Blessing Way Chant over his spirit and he became strong again. The holy people saved his spirit. When the FBI man got better, a white buffalo calf was born in the north."

"I don't understand."

"Albert believed the white buffalo was an omen of great change," Madeline's voice had a faraway feel to it as if she was recalling a dream. "Later Albert prayed over the FBI woman's sister who had been shot. The buffalo calf's mother lied down and would not get up. The FBI woman's sister died, as did the mother buffalo."

"The FBI woman… My mother?"

Madeline's eyes focused again. She looked at Will and with a quiet sigh replied. "Yes."

Will was silent for a long while. "What does this mean for me?"

Dark brown eyes locked with deep blue eyes. "I think it means we're going to find out if there is such a thing as fate."

Roswell County Hospital
11:28 am

John walked into Monica's room with a cup of "that crap they call coffee" as he called it. Monica was sitting back in bed, restlessly tapping the bed rails. "Hey hon," he greeted her as cheerfully as he could muster. Seeing her in that bed, brought back memories he'd rather repress.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Hi."

"How you feeling?" He settled into the chair next to her bed.

"Like I've been shot," she replied, still smiling. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah," he said. "Caught a few when you were asleep."

"Uh huh," she eyed him dubiously.

"I did," he persisted. "The doctor's gonna sign your release, so we'll be outta here in a few."

"Great," Monica said with relief. She cocked her head, "What is it?"

"I keep thinking about yesterday," John said.

"What about?"

John sighed thoughtfully. "The man in the building. I keep thinking I know him."

"Did you ask Arthur about him?"

John nodded, "He only knew the guy by Shaker. I didn't recognize the name but the face…" He shook his head, "I guess it's nothing."

"John, your instincts have never let either of us down," Monica told him, reaching over and placing her hand on his.

"The problem is, if it's who I think it is, it can't be."

"Why not?"

"Because he's dead."

Roswell Motor Inn

"I don't believe in fate," Will told her.

"I do," she replied.

"No," Will shook his head. "I believe you make your own destiny. You have choices."

"Of course, but how do you explain what's happened to you?"

"What? Discovering that I was adopted? Being sent on a wild goose hunt to find my biological parents?" he asked. "Or being kidnapped and tested on by doctors? Finding out that the person I trusted the most lied to me all my life and killed my parents?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "This a journey remember? One that we are supposed to take together."

"I know…"

"No you don't," she said with exasperation. "You don't really understand what I'm telling you. Your father came to my uncle to find something, to get answers. Just like you are. Fate has put us together."

Will swallowed. "Do you know what I am?"

Madeline didn't look at him. Her eyes were shiny with tears and she nodded.

His heart leapt. "What? Please Madeline…"

She only shook her head, not wanting, or not able to tell him.

Will let out a little scoff he hadn't meant to. Of all the people in this crazy ordeal, the last person he wanted to be jerked around by was Madeline. He didn't know how to tell her how grateful he was that she rescued him, that it had been her. Now, she was dangling a piece of information, the piece of information he wanted more than even finding his parents, in front of him and wasn't telling him.

Madeline didn't look at him as she quietly answered. "You're human," she said. She looked up at him, into his eyes with a tenderness he hadn't seen before. "That's all."

He held her gaze a moment longer then looked away. He laughed a little and to her surprise reached over and hugged her. "Thank you," he said.

Madeline hugged him back; her face pressed against his shoulder was unsettled.

He let go. "You wanna get something to eat?" he asked with a half smile to let her know everything was all right between them.

"I am hungry," Madeline confessed.

"Me too," Will agreed. "I'll clean up and then we'll

Madeline opened the door to Roe. "Hey," she looked around him. "Where's Gibson?"

"He's coming." Roe answered flatly while Madeline closed the door behind him.

"John said you went to get him," she pointed out. Roe simply stared at her and a growing apprehension prickled up her neck.

"Do you like Chinese?" Will called out as he exited the bathroom. He stopped when he saw the man standing in the doorway in front of Madeline. She turned around, her eyes signaling that something was wrong. A brief tremor coursed through Will's body. He felt it before: in the hospital room strapped on the bed when he looked in the shadows, at Madeline's home when he heard Gibson speak in his mind and outside the warehouse before he killed Bridget.

Gibson pulled the car into an empty parking spot in the lot of the Roswell Motor Inn. It had been a long drive and he was glad to stop. He spent the entire trip worried about Madeline and Will and seeing them would give him some relief until he had to confront Will about the mind-reading incident.

In the passenger's seat, Roe unbuckled his safety belt and opened the car door. He stretched his arms and legs which were sore from the long car trip and still ached from his recent wounds. Gibson got out of the car as well and shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans.

"What's the room number?" Roe asked.

"Nineteen," Gibson replied, nodding to the door he parked in front of.

The agent rolled his brown eyes. They walked up to the door and Gibson hesitated a moment. Roe looked over at him about to ask what the problem was when he heard a commotion from inside the room. Roe instinctively reached for his gun holstered on his hip.

"Wait!" Gibson cried, putting out his hand to stop Roe from busting the door down. Roe complied and then there was a shout, Will, Roe assumed, shouting at Madeline to move. Right before Madeline screamed Gibson gave a short nod and Roe kicked in the door, his gun drawn.

Arthur Roe took a whole second to register what he was seeing. He, or rather, his double, had Madeline in a strong hold. A hand clutched her neck below the jaw, forcing her head up in an unnatural manner and another gripped her arms together behind her back.

Will was standing not five feet away gawking at both Roes. And it was he who recovered first. "Let her go!" He shouted.

"What the hell is going on?" Roe asked on the border of hysterical, his head spinning from the situation.

"He's not human, shoot him!" Gibson hissed.

The Roe Double's head snapped towards Gibson. "Neither are you," he replied. "Drop the gun," he barked at Roe.

Roe shook his head. "I don't think so. Now just let her go and we'll talk."

The Double cocked his head to the side. Tears ran down Madeline's face, the Roe Double slowly applied pressure to her windpipe causing her to gasp and gag. "I'll snap her neck," he said.

Another vibration rushed through Will's body, every muscle and blood vessel tingled and he began to breathe hard. "No," he gritted his teeth. He reached a hand out towards the Roe Double and Madeline. They all heard pops and spine-shuddering cracks. The Roe Double bellowed in pain, his fingers were being pulled up by an invisible force away from the grip on Madeline's neck. He let her go and Madeline fell to the floor, panting for air. Gibson ran and slid to her.

Roe wasted no time into pumping two rounds into his double. He was pushed back by the force of the shots but didn't go down. He looked down at the bullet holes which began to seep green.

"What the…" Roe said and the man looked back up. He was no longer Roe but a taller, thicker man. He had blue eyes, pockmarked cheeks and a wide jaw. He looked like an ancient gladiator would have, big and intimidating. Roe took a step back as the man advanced on him.

The shape-shifter was suddenly hurled across the room and smashed through the wall to outside. Roe turned to Will, his crown eyes candid in amazement. Will's chilling resolve was gone, replaced by a somewhat bewildered look on his face. He wasn't looking at Roe, but at the big gaping hole in the plaster and brick wall of the motel room. He shook it off before Roe could think of anything to say.

"Come on," Will said to him and he scooped Madeline up in his arms. Gibson was outside in a flash and already had the car started before the rest got into the car. Gibson checked his rearview mirror and saw the shape-shifting man that had just been shot and launched through a wall begin to get up from the parking lot floor. He put the car in drive and slammed on the pedal, speeding from the motel.

Will checked Madeline over in the back seat. She reassured him hoarsely that she was all right even though bruises were beginning to form on her neck. Roe looked back at Will from the front seat.

"You are going to have to explain to me what happened in there," he said to Will.

Will had his attention on Madeline, who was slumped against the seat. "If I knew I would," he retorted scowling at Roe. Roe only glared darkly at the auburn-haired teen through the rearview mirror.

Part Four- Appearances

Dana: "Time elapses in the blink of an eye and life suddenly changes. When the prodigal son returns, does he come back wiser, calmer, at peace with himself and his destiny? What destiny can he make, now that he knows what is out there? Will he now understand his origins? DNA is fickle, change a single chromosome, A to T, C to G, and change the entire self. What effect does that have on the soul? Memories can be deceiving, and our minds are made up of nothing but. Souls are memories are experiences are actions are sins. And they all beget life."

Shaker drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in a fast, impatient non-rhythm. He glared at his watch on his wrist. Time was moving much too slow. He looked up, his eyes followed a lone car sail past on the interstate, then resumed drumming his fingers. Shaker went rigid, then suddenly his face twisted in rage and he pounded on the wheel then gripped it in both hands and shook back and forth, like he wanted to rip it out.

A moment after his tantrum he released his grip and rubbed his sweaty face. He chuckled a bit. It was really quite karmic, if he believed in that. He knew his mistake. He knew that his end was soon to come. He hoped, rather cynically, that they would use this experience as an example for the next one.

Shaker sighed and closed his green eyes. For the time being he'd rest. Wait for the next call, the next set of orders, and for Will to return.

US 285
New Mexico 10:01am

Gibson took the exit ramp off the highway out of Roswell. It was the fourth time he had done so and he was getting tired of going in circles. He broke the silence between his companions, even though their thoughts were practically screaming in his head.

"So," he said, "what do we do?"

"We should call John and Monica and warn them," Madeline suggested. "Shaker might know where they are."

"No, that guy wasn't one of wasn't one of Shaker's men and he wasn't human," Will added.

"He wasn't human?" Roe stared at Will. "Then what was he?"

"It was a bounty hunter," Gibson explained. "An Alien Bounty Hunter. They hunt down humans with genetic alien material." He shot a look through the rearview mirror at Will. Will looked up, feeling the familiar gentle buzz in his brain and caught Gibson's look.
"How do you know this?" Madeline asked Gibson.

"He came after me once," Gibson replied pushing his glasses up his nose. "But not before others got to me first and played with my brain. Apparently my gifts did not come without a price," he said grimly.

Roe looked back and forth at Gibson and Will. "I'm confused. It was only the NPIB that wanted Will, why would a bounty hunter be after him too"

"Because I'm an alien," Will replied almost inaudibly.

"No, you're not," Madeline told him.

"It explains what I saw, what I felt in my dreams. It explains what they did to me and why."

The other three had nothing to say to that, or if they did they didn't speak out loud. Gibson was the only one who spoke. "I know a safe enough place. We'll get there in a few hours." And with that, they were on the run once again.

Monument Valley
Arizona-Utah Border
9 hours later

It was just after dark by the time the four of them arrived at the motel. Star and moon light beamed down on them and Will recognized the landscape, it was desert and familiar. He shook off the tingling of déjà vu and gently roused Madeline sleeping on his shoulder. They checked into two rooms at the only lodge on the park grounds.

"Um…" Roe held the two key cards in his hands and stammered. "How do you wanna split up?"

The three males looked at Madeline. "Oh for god sakes," she yawned and grabbed a card from Roe. "The three of you can bunk together."

"B-But there's only two beds," Roe said.

She shrugged, "You'll have to work that out for yourselves." She sauntered off to her room. "See in the morning."

They let themselves into the smallish room and sure enough there were two beds. Will smirked, "I call top bunk."

"Oh shut up," Roe told him and glared at Gibson who tried to suppress a smile. Roe went over to the phone and dialed a number that was still inked on his hand.

"Roswell County Hospital," a tired female voice came back.

"Yes, room number for a Mrs. Linde please," he requested.

There was a pause and Roe heard rapid clacking of a keyboard. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Linde was discharged earlier today," the nurse replied.

A frown crossed his face and he hung up. "They're gone," Roe announced.

Gibson shook his head, "But where would they go?

Roe shrugged, "I don't know."

Suddenly, Will jumped up, something vibrated in his pocket. He reached in and fished out the PDA Bridget had given him. He had forgotten he still had it. "You have a new voice message" scrolled across the screen.

"What is it?" Roe asked darkly.

Will ignored him and pressed the play button on the screen and the speaker button for the others to hear

"Jeffrey Spender is missing," John's voice came, uncharacteristically strained. Will looked at them puzzled. "Who's Jeffrey Spender?"

"We figure it was sometime between the night Madeline and Gibson found Will and Roswell," John continued. "Monica and I won't be off radar much longer either. Don't come looking for us. We'll be in contact soon."

"I don't buy it," Roe declared.

"It was John," Gibson said with certainty.

"Who was John talking about? Who is Jeffrey Spender?" Will asked.

"He told John and Monica where you would be," Roe said. "He was a former FBI agent and worked on the X-Files too." Roe looked over at Gibson. "What would they want him for?"

"Other than the whereabouts of all of us?" Gibson shrugged. "I don't know."

Two Grey Hills, NM

John and Monica left the hospital early yesterday morning. They spent all day driving back to Two Grey Hills. Eric Hosteen greeted them and let Monica sleep off her pain medication in Madeline's room. John managed to get some sleep as well. Monica's wound wasn't as bad as they all feared. A flesh wound, the doctor said she'd be mobile within a day or two.

Now she and Eric were sitting around the table, listening to John's half of a phone conversation.

"I don't know," John said with a sigh. "I've gone over it a hundred times but I'm 99 sure that it was him." He listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Right. We're safe, for now. Have you heard from Spender?" He waited for the reply. "We figured as much. I sent word to the others… yeah, I hope so… Okay, bye." He hung up.

"Sit tight and wait it out?" Monica asked.

He nodded. "I don't like it though. Art and Gibson have no idea where we are, Will is probably on the edge of a breakdown or worse and the girl is probably worried about us as well." He exhaled. "We should've stayed dead."

"We have to think positive, John. The point of all this is to reunite Will with his parents."

"Right, but on the way how about he be kidnapped again, experimented on, almost die, and my favorite, kill an alien parading to be his aunt for the past 18 years. How much more can this kid possibly take?"

"A lot more I expect," she replied. "Will is special, remember? And on top of that he's Dana and Mulder's son, if anyone could take all of this, it is him. I'd hate to be within a mile of him when he gets angry."

"You actually believe what Spender told us? That Will is an alien?"

"Don't you?"

"He's just a boy, Monica" John said.

Monica looked away, a little hurt by John's tone. She knew that she could never truly understand John's argument; she had never lost a child like he had, or like Dana and Mulder had. But she shared something with Will that the others didn't. Monica understood Will's sense of despondency. It was a terrible feeling to believe that you were unwanted by the people that should love you most.

"John," she said, "think back to that year you came to the X-Files. The circumstances surrounding Dana's pregnancy, Will's birth, you can't deny that Will could be an alien."

"I won't deny it, but I'm not gonna dwell on that theory like everyone else."

Eric was silent thought during their discussion. His thoughts were on his daughter and he hoped that her spirit hadn't failed her. "What matters is we need to help them now, not the past," he resolved.

John and Monica nodded in agreement. "I think I should go to them," Monica suggested.

"No, you just got out of the hospital," John told her.

"I'm fine John. I'll go find Will and Madeline. You should go back to D.C. and get the files."

John looked ready to protest again, but resigned. "Okay, we'll split up."

Monica smiled, "I'll call you when I get there."

Monument Valley
7:11 pm

Will, Madeline, Gibson and Roe spent the next day cooped up indoors. After a dinner of lukewarm diner food Roe had to drive 40 minutes to and back Madeline stayed into the boys' room. The tension between her, Will and Roe became too much for Gibson to put up with even while he was watching TV so he left them and returned an hour later with a deck of cards. Roe wouldn't play with him or Will on account of their abilities so he and Madeline played.

Half an hour of Madeline and Roe's laughing, Will finally couldn't take the buzzing in his head that was Madeline's attraction to Roe so he left the room. Concerned, Madeline went after him, leaving Roe and Gibson alone in the room.

Madeline found him easily enough, following a trail not far from the motel. The sun was setting and the sky was changing colors, from pale yellow to vivid orange. The clouds off the horizon hid the shrinking sun and it turned them into neon pink. The mesas and mountains that surrounded them were a deep purplish-blue. She spied Will's silhouette standing a ways down and walked towards him.

"I've never seen a sunset like that," Will commented, surprising Madeline who stood behind him. She wasn't sure that he had noticed her. "It's like a painting."

She looked out, "It's beautiful." She took a deep breath in. "It's going to rain."

"Good," he said, still gazing at the sunset. "Pops would say that the rain had away of making everything seem new again."

"I wanted to thank you for saving my life," she said to him. "Back in Roswell."

Will tore his gaze from the colors and looked at Madeline. He gave her a crooked half-smile, "Now we're even."

She hesitated before continuing, "What you did…"

"I don't want…" he paused and repeated in a softer tone. "I don't want to talk about it."

Madeline desired to persist, but decided against it. She watched the sunset and remembered her father and what he told her before Will showed up at their door.

"You're afraid of me," he said, it wasn't a question.

She didn't look at him. "I'm not."

"Look at me." When she didn't he said it again. "Look at me."

She did. The waning light made shadows on his face. She traced over the outline with her dark eyes until she met his blue ones. "No," she said, barely audible. "I'm not."

In a slow, fluid motion he cupped her face into his hands and kissed her with more force than he meant to. Madeline, somewhat taken aback by his actions, instantly resisted, but his kiss became tender a moment later and she let herself relax. Her hands reached up around his neck and she ran her fingers through the back of his hair.

There was no mistaking the gentle hum in his mind as they kissed, yet instead of being worried, Will was comforted in Madeline reciprocating emotions he felt from her. Everything that had been troubling him seemed to fade into the background with the sun. Way off in the distance was a low rumbling and flashes of lightning, the storm Madeline predicted would come soon. But over their heads the stars emerged, glittering against the dark sky.

Will pulled away from Madeline abruptly. The buzzing in his head wasn't gentle hum anymore, instead it blared like a siren. He looked back towards the hotel.

"What is it?" Madeline asked him.

Will looked down at Madeline and ran his thumb over her lips. "It's nothing," he told her. "I'm going to go back to the room." He walked away quickly.

Madeline frowned watching his retreat back to the hotel, and wondered why his mood had changed.

Not far, on the highway, driving in a rental car towards them was someone they left back in Roswell.

When she got back to the room, Roe saw her swollen lips and knew what she and Will had been doing. Gibson stood up and gave him a sympathetic pat. Madeline looked around.

"Where's Will?"

Gibson and John exchanged a quick look.

"He's gone."

Mount Weather
Bluemont, VA

Shaker paced back and forth in an office he had just ransacked. There was only one piece of vital information he found and he clutched it in his hand. The numbers scrawled on it were not in his handwriting. He was angry at himself for not finding them earlier, even more that he had not yet decided to do anything about it. He just paced.

Earlier he had been called into his boss' office again to be told of a situation in Roswell where witnesses had seen a man crash through a motel room wall then pick himself up and walk away. Witnesses had also seen a car speed away with about four people in it.

Something in his jacket pocket gave him a jolt and he fished out the offending object. He pressed "view message" on his PDA and read: "You can have me. Meet me where it began."

Monument Valley

Madeline stared for a second, wondering if she heard Gibson correctly. She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean he's gone? Where did he go?" She looked over at Roe whose gaze was on his shoes. Neither male said a word.

She got into Roe's face. "Why didn't you stop him!" She didn't even let him answer before her face settled in absolute resolve.

"Madeline, they'll kill you too," Gibson spoke up.

She didn't listen to him. She only held out her hand to Roe. "Give me the keys."

"Madeline…" He looked into her dark eyes. They were pained and pleaded out to his. "No," Roe said finally and quietly.

In an instant her whole demeanor changed. Roe thought she was going to either cry or slug him or both, but her eyes turned cold and she stalked away outside, slamming the door behind her.

Roe hung his head and rubbed his hair. He caught a glance of Gibson who had a look on his face. "Don't be reading my mind right now, Gib. I'm not in the mood."

"You could've done something," Gibson said.

"What?" Roe asked frustrated. "What was I supposed to do, shoot him? You saw what he did. What he can do. Maybe Will being gone is the best thing for us."

"For you and Madeline?"

Roe glowered. "Quit it," he warned. He didn't want Gibson poking around in his brain and bringing up anything he wasn't ready to admit.

"I'm just saying what's already on your mind," Gibson replied, a hint of a smile danced around his goatee. "Falling in love in the midst of all this isn't going to make anything easier."

"Is she…?" Roe couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence for fear of what Gibson knew.

Gibson shrugged apologetically, "I don't know, man."

Roe nodded, he'd take uncertainty over sureness any day.

Madeline was standing at the edge of the porch. It was a clear night, moonlight beamed down on her face. The air was cool, and a breeze ruffles Madeline's hair. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, trying to keep her insides from spilling out. He hadn't realized that he liked Madeline as much as he did. True, he was nearly ten years her senior but she was brave and strong, and absolutely beautiful. He wondered to himself when the moment was he did fall in love with her.

Roe padded to her softly, as if she was a deer and the slightest noise or movement would make her run.

"I'm sorry I yelled," she said.

"It's okay. You were mad." There was uncomfortable silence before Roe continued. "The car's gone." He sighed. "No luck us leaving any time soon."

"You knew about everything." She accused. "You knew about Will."

Roe nodded, "I heard about something in the NPIB. An operation on the highest classified orders."

"And you told John."

He nodded again. "I had met John and Monica before their "death"…"

"Your X-Files homework."

"Right. I knew that they were the last agents assigned to the department. They were also strongly opposed to the FBI and the National Security Agency merger. They knew, that putting those kinds of government powers together meant that society would be even more in the dark about what was going on. About alien re-colonization."

Madeline turned to him. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "You need to tell Will."

"No, you are the one that needs to know all this. Don't you see? Will is an X-File."

Madeline faced him. "There is no X-Files," she said and walked away.

"There are always going to be X-Files," he called after her retreating figure.

Near Pine Bluffs, WY

Will picked his way through the ashes of his former home. What hadn't been burned was ruined by the water. His mother's favorite china was shattered in pieces on the floor. His father's Barcalounger was charred, disfigured lump.


He turned around, already knowing who was behind him. "Nice of you to come."

Shaker shrugged. "I didn't have anything else better to do. Besides, my superiors have been riding me to hurry and bring you in. So imagine my surprise when I get a text giving the time and place you're going to be at."

"Glad it worked out for you then," Will said. He smirked a bit.

"I have to know something before we go," Shaker said. "Why now? Why turn yourself in now?"

"There's someone else after me," he replied. "Someone who I'm pretty sure wants me dead. Your bosses, on the other hand, don't want me dead. I think that explains it."

"That'll do it."

"There's one condition."

Shaker groaned, "Of course there is."

"You, your bosses, they leave the others alone."

Shaker shook his head, "I can't make that promise Will."

Will took a step towards him, noting that Shaker's body stiffened as he did so. "Leave them alone," he growled. "Or I walk out of here and you'll never see me again." He took another step. "Mainly because I'll rip your eyeballs out of the sockets," he whispered maliciously into his ear.

Shaker swallowed and nodded.

Will smiled, "Don't worry now, Shaker. I'll come quietly."

A glimmer of shock passed over Shaker's freshly shaven face. "Picked up on your powers."

"Yeah," Will said. "So are we going or what?"

Shaker stepped aside and gestured widely, "Whenever you're ready."

Will walked to the awaiting helicopter, Shaker a step behind him.

Mount Weather Complex
Bluemont, Virginia

Will stood in the elevator next to Shaker. Shaker was more at ease in the building than he had been in Wyoming.

"You made the right choice, you know," Shaker said, breaking the thick silence. "This way, I don't have to kill any of your new friends."

Will said nothing in response.

Shaker sighed. "I heard you killed your aunt, Bridget I mean." He smirked at him, "Must've been tough."

"Not really," Will replied earning a smile from Shaker. Will glanced at him, "Did you know her well?"

Shaker shook his head. "Not really. She was that mysterious femme fatale, you know, good at making you believe what you want."

"Yeah," Will mumbled.

They arrived at the destined floor and Shaker lead Will off and through the halls.

"What kinds of tests do you run here?"

"All types."

"On aliens? On people like me?"

"There are no people like you Will." He pressed a button on the wall next to a door. It slid open to a well-furnished room. "You'll stay here."

Will walked into the room and Shaker pressed the button again and the door closed, the sole window out filled with Shaker's face. "Welcome home, Will."

Monument Valley, Utah

Madeline was curled in a chair as far as Roe as she could get in the smallish room. He was sitting in another chair, gripping Will's PDA in his hand. Gibson sat Indian-style on one of the beds, eyes glued to the TV, trying desperately to drown out the other two's thoughts. A few minutes passed and someone knocked at the door.

Gibson was the only one who reacted, Madeline and Roe still set in their respective funks. He got up and answered it, a little surprised to see Monica at the door. Madeline looked up to see who it was.

"Monica!" She exclaimed getting up to give the older woman a hug. "What are you doing here? How are you?"

Monica hugged Madeline back and smiled at her and Gibson. "I'm fine. The bullet grazed me. We went back to New Mexico, thinking you would be there. But your father, Madeline, said he hadn't heard from you."

"What about the message on Will's PDA?" Gibson asked.

"We needed you to know we were all right, but just in case it got picked up by any unwanted ears we couldn't tell you where we were," Monica explained.

"And Jeffrey Spender?"

Monica shrugged, "John got a call and confirmed some suspicions but we were told to sit tight." She sighed heavily. "John went to D.C. and I came here. E thought the best thing would be to split up for the time being."

"That does sound smart," Gibson said. "Look at us."

Monica smiled a little, "Where's Will?"

"He left," Madeline said softly.

Monica raised her eyebrows, "Where did he go?"

Madeline was about to reply, but Roe spoke up. He stood and held up Will's PDA in his hand. "He gave himself up."

The other three's mouths dropped. "He what!"

Roe looked over at Madeline. "I hacked into his outbox and the last message he wrote basically says, "you can have me". I don't know who it was to, but I figure it was that Shaker guy."

"Why would he do that?" Madeline asked.

"Probably to save us," Gibson said. "There wouldn't be any other reason but to exchange himself for us."

Monica nodded, "Will knows how valuable he is to them…"

"And with the alien bounty hunter after him too," Roe added.

Monica's head snapped to Roe, "What Alien Bounty Hunter?"

Roe raised his eyebrows, "The one in Roswell. The one that Will hurled threw a wall."

"Will threw him through a wall?"

"With his mind," Roe said.

Monica looked over at Gibson. "He did that?"

Gibson nodded, "He did."

"I think it's time," she said.

"Yeah," Gibson agreed. "I do too."

"Time for what?" Madeline looked back and forth between the two. "What?"

Gibson looked Madeline in the eyes, "I know where they are."

"Who?" Madeline blinked. "Will's parents?" she guessed.

He nodded a yes.

She eyed him, then turned to Monica. "Why now? Why didn't you tell Will?"

Regret crossed her face, "You have to understand, Will was never supposed to know about his parents."

"I don't."

"They wanted a life for him. They would always be running. Always in hiding. All Dana wanted was a normal life for her normal son."

"They're his parents. He needs them now."

"I agree. But Madeline, we don't even know where he is now or what he is…"

"He's Will."

"Madeline," Gibson lowered his voice, "you know. Will isn't just human anymore."

She looked away. "I knew when he came to my house. I knew he was the son of the FBI man Eric told me about." She squeezed her eyes shut, her fists balled, then she relaxed. "I knew he came from other blood. I knew and I shouldn't have kept it a secret from him. I should've told him first."

"Why didn't you?" Monica asked.

"I was scared. Not for me, but for him," she lifted her head up. "This journey one takes on their own. They must carry with them all knowledge of their past and none of their future. To find a future with an open mind."

Gibson nodded, "That's what your father told you."

She nodded, "What I carried with me, my knowledge influenced my actions."

"And so they do with Will," Monica pointed out.

Madeline looked at her and understood. To know everything right away would've sent Will into a breakdown, he was suffering with what he had been through as it was now. The only thing left for her to do for him was to go with Gibson and reunite Will with his biological parents. That had been her goal from the beginning and once finished she could return to her father and home. She smiled at Gibson and straightened up. "What are we waiting for?" she asked him, a renewed sense of purpose flowing through her now. "Let's go get Will's parents."

Chipping Norton
Oxfordshire, United Kingdom

"You can't remember the address?" Madeline asked exasperated. They had just been on a plane for twelve hours and she was more than a little cranky and very stiff.

"Hey, I'm not even supposed to know where they are," Gibson refuted. "Much less tell anyone."

"The burden of being a psychic," Madeline muttered.

"Telepathic," Gibson corrected her. "I have no idea what will happen next."

Madeline rolled her looked out the window of their rental car. "There's a post office across the street I'll go ask for directions. I need to stretch my legs anyways," Madeline said to him.

Gibson nodded absently, his attention on the map he was studying. Madeline walked across the street and opened the door to the post office. She collided with a woman coming out. The woman lost all her mail to the ground.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry," Madeline apologized and stooped down to pick up the letters.

"It's all right," the woman replied in an American accent. She took her mail from Madeline, "Thank you.

Madeline and the woman smiled at each other. Madeline knit her shaped brows together. She could see Will in the woman's eyes, or rather, had seen this woman in Will's eyes. "Excuse me?"

The woman turned back around, "Yes?"

Madeline attempted the most sincere and honest smile she could, "This is going to sound strange but, is your name Dana Scully?"

The woman looked ready to rabbit. Her eyes flickered over Madeline, like she assessing how much of a threat Madeline was to her. "I'm sorry," the woman shook her head. "I'm afraid you have me confused with somebody else."

Madeline smiled, disappointment evident on her face. She sighed, "Oh. Oh well, I'm very sorry."

The woman gave a tight smile, "That's all right."

Madeline turned to walk away but paused. She couldn't ignore what she saw, or more importantly, what she felt. She turned back, but the woman was gone. Madeline looked around and caught a flash of red hair near the exit. She dropped her items and ran after the woman, muttering "excuse me's" as she pushed past people.

She got outside and looked around again for the red hair. She saw the woman getting into a car. Without thinking Madeline ran across the parking lot, the action earning her honks and profanities.

Gibson looked up and saw Madeline in the middle of the street. He looked to his left and saw Dana Scully getting into her vehicle. He started up the car and drove up to Madeline. "Get in!" He shouted. She did and he took off after Scully's car.

They followed the car all the way to a house outside of the town. Dana was inside before they pulled up. Gibson pounded on the door. "Dana? It's me Gibson Praise," he called through the door.

The door opened a crack, "Gibson?"

He smiled, "Hello Dana. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Relief washed over her face and she opened the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked after giving him a hug.


Dana didn't give him a chance to reply before she saw Madeline standing behind him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Madeline Hosteen."

"Hosteen?" She looked at Gibson and he nodded a confirmation.

Madeline smiled, "I'm a friend of Will's."

"Will?" Dana's blue eyes watered at the mention of her son's name. "You saw him?"

Madeline nodded, "Ms. Scully, He's in trouble and we need your help."


"Dana," Gibson said as gently as he could, "they found him."

It took her a moment, "How?"

Gibson shrugged. "I don't know. They've known where he was this whole time. They only waited until after his father died."

"I don't believe this. Gibson did…"

He nodded, "I'm sorry."

Dana bit her lip to keep from crying. "I can't come now. Not now."

She shook it off. "Skinner was murdered."

"Roe told me," Gibson said, understanding.

Madeline's heart sank, "But why? You have to!"

Dana ignored the girl's outburst. She just looked at Gibson.

"Come on Madeline," Gibson said. "John will be waiting for us at the airport."

Madeline pulled away from Gibson. "No!" she cried. "He needs you!"

Dana looked at Madeline, "If you're his friend he'll need you too," she said.

Madeline gaped at her and stalked away. She got to the end of the walkway and debated on turning back and forcing Dana Scully to come with them. A car drove up to the house and a man got out carrying a bag of groceries. He cocked his head at the Native American girl standing in the yard. She turned around and got into the rental car without noticing him.

Gibson walked out and saw the man staring at Madeline. Gibson walked to the car and the man looked up at him and nodded. Gibson nodded back and got into the car. He and Madeline left for the airport.

Mount Weather Complex
Bluemont, VA

"No." Shaker said. "You can't put her out in the field now. It's way too soon."

"You're not in charge here Shaker," the man with the lulling voice said. "After Roswell, we won't take any chances."

"What happened in Roswell?"

"The bounty hunters have resurfaced."

Shaker's face drained of its color. "Why wasn't I told sooner?"

"You've been told now. We need you to go get the others now."

Shaker hesitated, "I-I promised Will I wouldn't."

"You promised him?"

"His surrender wasn't as unconditional as I said. He came under the condition that his friends are left alone."

"And you agreed?"

"He made it difficult not to."

The man shook his head, "Shaker you're still far too concerned with the fragility of your mortality. You assist in the retrieval of the girl and Gibson Praise that is all."

"Yes sir."

Will sat back in the uncomfortable chair, exhausted. He never thought it was really possible for his brain to hurt, but right then it was throbbing. He had just finished a series of experiments that tested his new abilities. He knew that they had changed him with what they did to him before, but he didn't realize how much. At first, the results only came from some kind of negative stimulant, but after about an hour he was able to move objects just by thinking it.

Now, he was fatigued in a way he had never been before. What he really noticed was that after the doctors had left him alone in the room, the buzzing in his head ceased.

"After a while it won't hurt anymore," a voice said.

Will looked around. No one was in the stark room except him. And the voice definitely didn't come from his head. "What?"

"Your head hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Will said. "Um where are you?"

"The room next to you."

"Are you an alien?"

Jeffrey snorted, "No. They'd wish I was though. Besides, can't you just read my mind?"

Will shook his head, "I can't do that."

"Guess that's not your ability. Lucky. They put mind readers through a helluva lot worse." He sighed. "So what'd they make you do?"

"Nothing," Will said.

"You can tell me Will."

"How do you know my name?" he demanded.

"I know a lot about you, son. I knew your parents."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Jeffrey Spender."

Will recognized the name, "You disappeared."

"I was on my way to you when they nabbed me outside of Roswell. I needed to warn you that others were coming."

"There was an alien in Roswell. Gibson said it was a bounty hunter. I threw him through a wall." Will said.

Jeffrey Spender shook his head, "You don't understand. It wasn't there for you."

Will paused like he didn't hear him right. "What?"

"It wanted the mind reader and the girl."

John F. Kennedy Airport, NY

Madeline adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned back at Gibson who had the same pensive expression on his face as he had on the whole plane ride over. They both walked out of the terminal to where John would be waiting for them outside.

Madeline had the strangest sensation of the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She shivered violently. Gibson stared at her, or rather through her.

"Madeline…" she heard him say before she somehow got a flash of a woman with a gun behind them.

"Run!" she shouted at him. She grabbed his hand and they ran away from the woman that had just pulled out a gun at them. Madeline looked back and identified the light haired woman which made her run faster.

The woman jogged after them, pushing people out of her way.

Ahead, Gibson could see John pulling up to the sidewalk in a car. "C'mon!" he pulled her in another direction away from John to lose the woman.

"She's not human," Madeline panted.

"I know," Gibson replied.

In his car, John saw the two of them running away from him and the woman chasing them. He was about to get out of the car and follow them when he saw Shaker talking to a man. John slouched down as far as he could and watched him, knowing that if he saw John that it would be bad for Madeline and Gibson.

Gibson and Madeline ran back into the terminal, the woman was right behind them. Suddenly, Madeline yanked him in another direction, for whatever reason, it was too late. Two taser fangs bit into Gibson and he let go of her hand and went down, shaking on the ground from the electric current.

"Gibson!" Madeline screamed. She grabbed his hand, ignoring the shocks she was getting and tried to pull him along. Not wanting to leave him, but knowing that the woman was about a second away from getting to them. She dropped his hand and ran. She got about five feet before coming face to face with the woman.

"Don't move," the woman said.

Madeline dared not to. "Bitch," she snarled.

The woman had a vacant expression as she hauled her arm back and hit Madeline across the cheek.

Madeline thought her eyeball exploded and she turned back to the woman and punched the woman in the jaw. The woman wiped blood from her lip and smiled a little before she hit her again and before Madeline could retaliate had a gun on her.

"I'd think about it this time," she said and Madeline accepted defeat.

John watched from his car as two men in sterile suits wheeled Gibson out on a gurney and into the back of a Hazmat van. About a minute later, Madeline was brought out in cuffs and put in another van. A familiar-looking woman came out after her and stopped to talk to Shaker. Shaker waved her away and got into another car, the woman got into the passenger's seat and the motorcade drove away.

Mount Weather Complex
Bluemont, Virginia

"Let me out!" Madeline pounded on the glass window which she knew was a two-way mirror. "You hear me in there! Let me out of here!"

She turned when the door slid open and Shaker walked in. "Hello Madeline," he greeted.

"You bastard," she spat. "What the hell am I doing here?"

He smiled wide, "Well, Madeline. It seems that you are a more valuable asset than I realized."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your part in this play," he said innocently. Shaker walked around her, he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "You're the Juliet to Will's Romeo."

"Stop it," she said.

His grin grew wider, staying close to her ear he went on. "You don't even know do you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, "No," she whispered. "I'm not…"

"You didn't know your mother."

The words hit her like a concrete wall. She opened her eyes, tears fell down her cheeks. "She died."

He walked back in front of her and picked up the electronic file he had set on the table. He turned it on and skimmed it. "During labor, it says. She died giving birth to you." He looked up at her. "But you didn't know she was an abductee."

Madeline stared at him through blurred vision. She couldn't speak.

He nodded. "That's right. She was subjected to the tests. Like so many before her. Inseminated with alien DNA, but what the doctors didn't know was that she was already a carrier. She had functioning 'junk' DNA within her already and would pass it on to her offspring."

"You speak like she was an animal," Madeline retorted, the calmness of her voice surprised her. "Like this women were cattle."

"They all served their purpose. They gave birth to alien babies that would be studied, then be administered the right treatment to have healthy human babies with alien DNA. But like I said before, your mother already had alien DNA."

"I am not an alien."

"No, you are human, but like Will, you are more than. You two are the perfect pair, the Adam and Eve. But you were split up. Will was stripped of his abilities and you disappeared from their reach."

Madeline's head pounded from the information. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. "I don't believe this."

"After everything that's happened you're finding this too incredible?" He laughed. "That's something." He laid down the file in front of her. "Go ahead," he nodded. "Look through it."

With a trembling hand Madeline opened the file on the screen. She read the first few lines of the file. "Subject: #11041929198586, sex: F, birth date: 12/06/75 Santa Fe, NM, USA, date of death 1/10/02 Georgetown Memorial Hospital, MD, USA." She let out a shaky gasp. At the bottom of the screen was a picture and written under it in bold font was the name, "Carmen Baker".

A/N: I apologize not updating sooner. The next update will definitely be sometime in the next two days and it will be the last part in this story. Thank you for the reviews.

Part Five- Emerge

Georgetown, Maryland
11:42 am
18 years earlier

Fox Mulder chewed with his mouth partially open to compensate for the size of the bite he had just taken from his burrito. He swallowed and took a long draw from his soda. He did all this while staring out his car window at the building across the street. A pain of regret stabbed him. He should have been with his son, instead of on a stakeout. But he and Scully agreed that after a week he would go into hiding until it was safe for him. Being the one person who could subsequently bring down the entire FBI had finally caught up with him. Not to mentioned the fact that the Super Soldiers were after him as well. He had only one job to do for Scully before he disappeared from their radar. One that she didn't even know about.

Dr. Parenti's office had closed after the doctor's death. Mulder shuddered impulsively, thinking of Agent Doggett finding Dr. Parenti's head in a jar of formaldehyde. He was waiting for the nursing assistant to leave, he checked his watch, which he hoped would be soon. All week Agents Doggett and Reyes, the latter just been assigned to the X-Files, kept an eye on the office building. They reported that one nurse was opening the office and spent the day turning away patient who had not yet heard of the doctor's demise. At noontime, the nurse locked up for lunch and returned again an hour later. Mulder had a good window of time to break into the office, steal Scully's pregnancy records and get out undetected.

Ten minutes and a burrito later, the nurse came out and locked the door. Mulder waited until she drove off in her car before he exited his own vehicle and jogged across the street. He went around the side of the building, into the alleyway, where he found the emergency exit. He picked the lock carefully, let himself in, and waited for the security system to reset itself before closing the door.

He made his way to Dr. Parenti's private office, past the room that once was filled with specimen jars of fetuses with birth defects amongst other curiosities, Mulder suspected. Parenti's desk was for the most part cleared of his personal effects, lined against on wall were three filing cabinets. He pulled open the top drawer of the nearest cabinet and exhaled a bit of relief when he found it still meticulously organized and labeled. The first cabinet was a bust, only containing tax and accounting records. In the second cabinet he found Scully's in-vitro fertilization records from the previous year and in the "S" section of the last cabinet he found her pregnancy records.

Mulder heard the front door handle jingle and he collected the files and headed to the back. He hustled down the alley and when he stepped out onto the sidewalk he nearly collided with a young woman.

"Oh I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.

The young woman shook her head and smiled to show no harm done, "its okay. I'm fine."

Mulder nodded and continued to his car. He got in and started it. He looked up and got a better glimpse at the woman her ran into. She was short, had shoulder-length dark hair and a warm natural tan, but he paid most attention to the anguish in her dark eyes. He drove off with the young woman in his rearview mirror.

7 Months Later
January 7, 2002
Weed Hope, New Mexico

Mulder sat back and skimmed the laptop screen in front of him. Satisfied, he clicked "send" and the e-mail was on its way through the world wide web. He switched off the computer and stretched; the letter he wrote took more time than anticipated. It was an important letter, more than important it was personal, and emotional, it took some effort from him to not divulge into great detail of his life without her lest it fall into the wrong hands.

A knock at the door and the doorbell ringing stirred Mulder out of his chair.

"I got it!" He called over his shoulder to his housemate in the other room.

"Okay!" A male's voice on the cusp of puberty replied.

Mulder reached for the doorknob and pulled it open. "Can I help you?" he asked then frowned. Standing on the stoop of the small desert abode was a familiar looking woman.

The woman seemed relieved when she saw him answer the door. "Yes. You're the FBI man."

Mulder narrowed his eyes, "Who are you?"

The woman shook her head, "I'm sorry. My name is Carmen Baker, you knew my fiancé, Eric Hosteen."

Again, Mulder was surprised. He dimly recalled an Eric, but the name Hosteen rang a big gong. It was a name he was most likely not to forget. Mulder looked the woman up and down, noting the bulge of her midsection. "Please come in," he said stepping aside. The woman entered the house with Mulder behind her, closing the door.

"Gibson!" He called out. "Come here." He showed Carmen to the couch where she sat. Mulder sat next to her and a moment later, Gibson Praise appeared. The teenager looked quizzical at first and shot a glace at Mulder who nodded an okay. "Carmen this is Gibson."

Carmen smiled politely at Gibson and looked at Mulder. "Are you his father?"

Mulder became uneasy about how to go about explaining his situation with Gibson. Gibson however, came to his rescue, answering for him.

"He's my uncle," he told her. "Staying for a few days."

"Oh," Carmen nodded. "I bet you're wondering how I found you," Carmen said to Mulder.

"It's crossed my mind," he replied.

She smiled. "Eric's talked about you. He said you were given a miracle."

"The Hosteen family saved my life before," Mulder confirmed. "How is Eric?"

"Nervous," Carmen laughed.

"Becoming a father will do that," Mulder agreed. "When are you due?"

"Soon," she said. "That's why I needed to find you. I was a patient of Dr. Parenti," Carmen explained.

Mulder's eyes grew and he shifted. "Is that why you were there that day?"

"Yes, you see," she caressed her stomach protectively, "I went to Washington because of my job.

"What did you do?"

"Government Development. My father is president of the Toadlena-Two Grey Hills of the Navajo Nation. My work in Washington involves dealing directly with the FBI. It was there I found out I was pregnant. I was referred to Dr. Parenti through work. After seeing you there I knew my suspicions were substantiated."

"What suspicions?"

"The rumors of the pregnant women," She said matter-of-factly. "Women who claimed to be abducted by aliens, left barren, then conceived miraculously."

This was an all too familiar tale for Mulder, but he still had questions. "Why after seeing me?"

"Eric told me what he found in the desert, what you came for," she said.

"You were abducted," he presumed.

"No. I believe my situation is a bit different."


She nodded to Gibson, "Maybe he can tell you."

Mulder looked back at Gibson who was staring intently at Carmen and now was surprised. "What's she talking about?"

"Your friend has been reading my mind throughout our conversation, to make sure I was telling the truth," Madeline explained.

Mulder's mouth opened a little in astonishment. "You can read minds."

She smiled and shook her head, "No, I can't. I can feel him inside my head. It's hard to explain because it has nothing to do with alien abductions."

"Because you were never abducted. You already have alien DNA, like Gibson."

"And I will pass it down to my baby," she confirmed. "You, Mr. Mulder, were infected a few times," she smiled.

"Any precognition, clairvoyance?"

"Some, but only since I've been pregnant," she smiled. "She's a girl."

"Telekinesis... Moving objects?"

She shook her head.

"I think you should come back to DC with me. I have friends who can help you."


"We'll leave tomorrow."

Washington D.C.
Carmen's Apartment

Mulder opened the door to Carmen's room. He went to the window and peeked out. Carmen stirred on her bed.

"It's all right," he told her. "Go back to sleep."

Carmen nodded and shifted her arm over her tummy protectively. She didn't fall asleep though, she watched Mulder. All night he kept a diligent eye on a car parked on the street.

Train 112

Mulder glanced at his watch. It read 11:26 pm. Thirty-four minutes and he'd see Scully again. Whatever her troubles were, sounded close to his own. The intercom crackled as the conductor spoke. "We are approaching the station in five minutes, folks. Please gather your belongings if you are departing with us here at Bethesda. For those of you continuing on to Baltimore, ETA is 2:05 am."

Mulder checked his watch again and looked behind him. There, not more than six rows to the left of him was Knowle Roher, a supposed dead man. It had been him who was parked in the dark car last night.

At 12:01, the conductor came on again as the train sailed by the station. "We're having a bit of difficulty at the Bethesda station. We've been given the green light to continue onto Baltimore. Those of you departing at Bethesda will be compensated when we get to Baltimore."

Mulder knew something had gone terribly wrong and that he'd never make it to Baltimore. His only chance was to go now. Unfortunately the only way to go on a moving train was out. Mulder stood up and made his was to the Emergency Exit. Knowle Roher stood as well and began to walk towards him. Mulder looked out at the scenery speeding by, took a deep breath and jumped.

He landed hard on his left foot and rolled over the gravel. He stood up quickly and looked back. Knowle Roher hadn't followed him out. Mulder had this little victory. He timed his jump near perfect, landing near the Manville Quarry. He slid down the embankment. His ankle began to tighten so he favored it as he walked.

Suddenly, he heard a car drive across the gravel not far from him. He began to run across the quarry.

"Mulder!" He heard a familiar voice call from behind him. "Mulder!" He recognized the raspy New York accent as being Agent John Doggett's. Mulder turned around. "Mulder, it's John Doggett!" Mulder deliberated for a second about letting Agent Doggett know what was going on. The second passed and he continued running. He had to get back to Carmen before Knowle Roher did.

Washington D.C.
Carmen's Apartment

Mulder knocked on the door. Carmen answered it and Mulder limped into the room.

"What happened to you?" she asked seeing his disheveled appearance.

"I jumped off a train," he replied.

"You jumped off a train?" She repeated.

"Yeah," Mulder looked around. "We should go tonight."

"But what about your friends?"

"You'll have to meet them another time, but right now I have to get you somewhere safe."

She frowned, "What's going on?"

"Last night a man followed us. He was there again on the train. I thought he was j just after me, but he would've found me sooner had that been the case. I believe he was waiting for you."

Carmen's breath hitched and she nodded. Her eyes watered as she caressed her belly.

"It's okay," Mulder said soothingly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She smiled at him, her eyes were sad. "Promise not to let anything happen to my baby," she said to him.

Mulder nodded and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I promise." He nodded to her room. "Get a bag together."

Carmen nodded and disappeared into her room. Mulder winced as he put weight on his tender ankle to amble across the room and look out the window. A car pulled up across the street and Knowle Roher got out.

Mulder wasted no time in running into Carmen's room and grabbing her hand. "Let's go," he said, not giving her time to grab her half-packed bag.

They ran down the stairs, for Carmen being close to nine months this was not easy. They got into her car, Mulder in the driver's seat and took off.

"What's happening?" she asked out of breath.

"He came back," Mulder replied.

"The man?"

"Yes," Mulder said "But he's not a man, he's a…" Mulder didn't finish his sentence. A car rammed into them from the back jarred them forward. Mulder check the rearview mirror and saw Knowle Roher in his car, trying to force them off the road.

"Hang on!" Mulder shouted and accelerated. Roher sped up as well and rammed them again.

Carmen screamed and before Roher could smash into them again, Mulder slammed on the brakes and turned right. Roher followed them, closing in on them. The brakes squealed again as Mulder made another sharp turn. For the moment he seemed to have lost Roher. He looked over at Carmen whose face was twisted in pain.


"My water broke," she said more calmly than he thought she would.

"There's a hospital not far," he told her. "Everything's going to be all right."

Mulder pulled up to the Emergency Bay without any incident. He figured it wasn't his good luck that they had lost Roher when they did.

Mulder helped Carmen out of the car and into the hospital. "I need some help here!" He called out.

A male doctor and a nurse with a wheelchair came to their aid. "Is she in labor?" The doctor asked.

"What does it look like?" Carmen shouted as she settled into the wheelchair. The four of them were joined by a female doctor and another nurse. They wheeled Carmen down to the elevator and filed in.

"Are you the husband?" The female doctor asked when they got out.

Mulder shook his head, "No."

"The father?"

"No I'm…

The female doctor cut him off, "You'll need to wait in the waiting room. Juanita?"

One of the nurses took him by the arm, "I'll show you where it is sir."

Carmen screamed again and the other nurse wheeled her through a set of double doors.

Mulder shrugged off the nurse. "But..."

"She'll be in good hands," the male doctor said, putting his hand on Mulder's chest to stop him and went into the delivery area.

Juanita took him by the elbow. "This way sir."

Mulder gazed at the double doors. He could hear Carmen's agonizing screams. He looked at Juanita. She smiled at him. "I'll come get you after, okay?"

Mulder nodded and followed her to the waiting room.

A little over 10 hours later, Juanita came back to tell him that Carmen was asking for him. Mulder knocked softly on the door of Carmen's room and entered. Carmen was lying propped in bed. She gave him a tired, but serene smile.

"You're stayed," she said.

"I didn't have much better to do." Mulder set a small basket of flowers by her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just gave birth," she said wryly. "They took her to the nursery to run first check-ups."

"A girl?" Mulder asked. "What did you name her?"

"Madeline," Carmen replied.

Mulder nodded, "Pretty name."

Carmen tilted her head. "What is it?"

Mulder sighed, "I wasn't with my son when he was born. His mother…" He paused.

"You're trying to protect them," Carmen said. She placed her hand over his. "He's still going to need you, Mr. Mulder. One day, he'll need you more than he's needed anyone." After a moment of them understanding each other, Carmen cocked her head to the door. "Go see her, I'll be here."

Mulder gently squeezed her hand in his and smiled. He walked out of the room, nodding at a honey-haired nurse going into Carmen's room. He went down the hall to the nursery where three other newborns were.

A young female nurse in teddy bear decorated scrubs smiled at him and mouthed "name?"

"Baker," he said and the nurse shook her head. He said "Hosteen" and she nodded. She picked up a baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket under the nametag: "Hosteen, Madeline. She turned to him showing off the baby. Mulder looked through the glass at the quiet infant. She gave a big yawn for one her size and opened her large eyes which were dark. He recalled a scene much like this of his wriggling pink son in a hospital in Georgia.

After a good five minutes of watching baby Madeline drift off into sleep, he headed back to Carmen's room. Two nurses and a doctor bumped past him and he noticed them rush into Carmen's room. Mulder jogged after them.

When he entered the room the medical team was all clustered around Carmen's bed, shouting orders at each other. He stood in the doorway. The doctor said "grand-mal seizure" and "eclampsia". Another nurse pushed Mulder from behind with a gurney. He moved aside and watched them transfer Carmen onto the gurney. It was the first time he saw her and she was shaking violently.

"What's happening?" Mulder hollered over them, but they paid no attention as they wheeled Carmen out forcing him out of the room. He jogged after them. "Where are you taking her?"

"Sir you'll have to wait elsewhere," the doctor said to him.

"First tell me what's happening," Mulder snapped back.

"Ms. Baker's having a seizure due to labor," the doctor explained.

"She was fine a minute ago. A nurse came in to check on her."

The doctor ignored him and they went into a trauma room. "You'll have to wait outside," the doctor told him and left Mulder outside the trauma room.

Mulder watched helplessly as they worked on Carmen. He heard the monotonous pitch of the heart monitor flat line and saw the doctor took the paddles and shocked her. Carmen's chest jolted up and down but still the ominous tone continued.

Another twenty minutes ticked by and they gave up. A nurse drew a white sheet over Carmen's body. They all came out one by one, only the doctor and a male nurse stayed to clean up. Mulder pushed the trauma room door open and stared at Carmen's still warm body.

The older doctor put his hand on Mulder's shoulder, "I'm sorry sir. She was suffering from what we call eclampsia. The patient suffers from a series of convulsions not attributed to anything else."

Mulder shook his head. "I don't understand."

"It's very rare. Usually occurring in first-time mothers and usually after they've given birth. It's lucky that she did have her baby before. During pre-eclapmsia the infant can die."

"Not that. There was a nurse. She came in. I saw her when I brought Carmen in. She was in Carmen's room before this happened."

The doctor frowned. "I'm not sure at where you're getting at, sir."

"A nurse," Mulder raised his voice. "There was a nurse who gave her something that provoked the seizure."

The doctor's expression suddenly became sympathetic. "This is a terrible loss sir and I'm sorry, but if you have a complaint to lodge I suggest you speak with an administrator." With that said he walked out.

Mulder stood there, not knowing what to think or do. He pushed back the sheet to expose Carmen's face. She seemed peaceful despite what violence was just performed on her body. Mulder didn't dare touch her or anything and soon he remembered his promise to her. His mind began to race with all the possible theories he could think of. The last one settled on the baby. Mulder jogged off back to the nursery. It was there his suspicions were confirmed. Not more than forty feet from him was the older male doctor and the female doctor who had delivered Carmen's baby talking quietly. They were soon joined by the nurse he had seen before. The light-brown haired woman. They asked her a question and she nodded. He ducked into the nursery before they saw him.

"Sir you can't be in here," the nurse said to him.

Mulder turned around and saw it was the same nurse from before. He ignored her and went to Madeline's crib. He carefully lifted her up.

"What are you doing!" She exclaimed.

Mulder turned to her, "This child is in danger. There a man who's coming for her. I need to get her out of here now."

The nurse stared at him. "I'm calling security," she declared.

Mulder simply walked out of the nursery, unfortunately, two security guards stopped him before he made it out of the maternity ward.

"Sir we have to ask you to put the baby back," the beefier guard said to him.

Mulder looked down at Madeline. "I'm sorry, but I made a promise." Mulder began to walk towards them, the security guards looked as if they didn't know what to do. Mulder walked as fast as he could out of the hospital as carefully as he could. There were shouts of "security!" and "stop him!" but no one dared once they saw what he was carrying.

He got into his car and started it. He held Madeline, who was still fast asleep against his chest and drove off without incident.

Two Grey Hills, NM

Mulder closed the door to his car and walked around it. He opened the other door, unbuckled Madeline from her car seat. He walked up to the small house and knocked on the door. A 24 year old Eric Hosteen answered the door.

"Hello," Eric said. "Can I…" he stopped when he recognized the familiar man. "The FBI man," he said. "What brings you back out to the hills? More aliens?"

Mulder smirked a bit. "Something like that." He gestured with Madeline in his arms. "I'd like to meet someone."

Eric looked at the bundle Mulder had for the first time. His breath hitched and he couldn't speak.

"Carmen died, during labor," Mulder said, feeling only a bit of guilt for lying. "This is Madeline. Your daughter." He passed the infant into Eric's arms.

Eric looked at the baby girl and back at Mulder. His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you."

Mulder nodded and walked back to his car.

Bluemont, VA
June 11, 2019
6:44 am

Shaker let himself into the room. Madeline had her arms crossed on the metal table with her head down on top of them. She didn't stir as Shaker sat across from her.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked in a genial tone.

"Screw you," she muttered hollowly.

Shaker reached across the table and picked up the digi-file. "I take it you read it all. Find it compelling?"

She lifted her head up. Her eyes were still red and a little puffy from a night of crying, but they stared at him with a cold menace. "You should publish it. It's a great work of fiction."

"You still don't believe it?" he asked.

"My mother was not an alien. She didn't give me alien genes."

Shaker leaned forward. "Why do you think your friend turned himself in?"

"To protect us," she replied without hesitation.

Shaker smiled. "That's what he said. And I believe he believes that. But you see, I know that what Will really wanted were answers. He's more like his father than he'll know."

Madeline turned her head away. Anger boiled up inside her. In a quick flash she saw Will running and black-eyed men chasing him. She saw Shaker screaming at a man with a gun pointed at him. She saw the red-haired woman from England crying. She looked back at Shaker. "Why us? Why Will? Why me? Why Gibson?"

"You were born for this."

"And you, Shaker? You're human." Madeline cocked her head to the side, "But then again you're not. They created you, made you what you are. A bastard son. No father, no mother, just a shell with stolen memories."

Shaker stared at her, chills ran up and down his spine. "You…" he coughed to clear his dry throat. "Your abilities aren't mind-reading."

She shook her head, "No." She leaned forward. "But then it doesn't take a mind-reader to see fear. I know…You're not afraid of me, Shaker. You're not even afraid of your bosses. You're afraid of what's going to happen when Will finds out what you did to me."

Shaker's face paled marginally, but still paled. He glared at the Navajo girl in front of him. "I think it's about time you answered some questions," he said. He walked out of the room, leaving her alone once again.

Eric Hosteen's Residence
Two Grey Hills, NM

Monica rubbed her head and sighed. John was on the other end of the phone line and had just finished telling her and Roe what he had witnessed in the airport in New York.

"Where would they take them?" Roe asked.

"I don't know," Monica confessed to him. "They could be anywhere by now."

"I think we should call them," John said on the speakerphone. "We should call them now."

"Yeah I think…" Monica trailed off. Roe looked up at what had caught her attention.

"Monica?" John asked. "Monica what is it?"

"Hold on," She told him. Monica looked over at Roe. "Do you have your gun?"

Roe nodded, "Yeah, and a back up."

"Give me one."

Roe handed her the one out of his ankle holster and got up and got his that was sitting in the drawer by his bed. "Outside," he whispered.

"To the left," Monica said. She slowly cocked the hammer back on the snub-nosed revolver.

The both of them crept towards the door, Roe took the lead position and Monica backed him up. Just when Roe was about to open the door, it burst open and knocked him back to the ground. His gun spun out of his reach.

Monica stared in horror at the man in front of her, for a moment she almost didn't believe her own eyes.

"Shoot him!" Roe yelled.

Monica didn't hesitate as she pumped five useless rounds into the man. She could hear John shouting over the speakerphone and could only imagine the panic he was feeling. The Alien Bounty Hunter was pushed back only steps by the bullets and began towards her when he suddenly stopped. From behind him there was a click and then a loud bang. The man crumpled to the floor in front of Monica.

Monica gasped and stared at the Alien Bounty Hunter then looked up at the doorway. Monica exhaled the tension that had just built up from the attack. She got up and brushed herself off. She nodded to the couple at the door then remembered the John was still on the phone. She grabbed it up, disabling the speaker and spoke. "John, stay there. We're coming to you."

Mount Weather Complex

Will paced back and forth in his room. He had already tested the windows and doors, but they were magnetically and electronically sealed. The last series of tests they ran left Will too drained to move anything. He sat on his bed and reached for the pen on the tray. It shuddered but that was it. He sighed in anger.

He needed to get out of there. For a second he considered calling Shaker and asking for a short furlough. He snickered at the thought of the look on Shaker's face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror across from his bed then back to the window. After a moment, Will shook his head and laughed a little in disbelief. He never thought about the mirror being anything other, but just then realized it was a two-way. The reason for the buzzing in his head was that someone was constantly close to him. At that moment, there was no buzzing so that meant no one was near.

Will stood up and walked over to the mirror. He tapped it and it thumped hollowly. He stood back and examined it. He was pretty sure it was neither bullet proof nor shatterproof. The only problem was he didn't have a loaded gun or have something heavy enough in the room to throw at it. He stood up to it again and thought. If he could somehow mentally fracture it without it bursting all over the place and cutting him up fierce…

Will stepped back a few paces and concentrated. His head still hurt tremendously from before, but he shrugged it off. The cracking sound came almost as a relief bell. The mirror was split through the middle.

It took the better part of an hour but Will had gotten enough cracks in the mirror to be able to break without much force. Will grabbed the pen from the desk sat on his bed and concentrated on it. The pen began to spin in his palm, it rose out of his hand, still spinning and Will sent it straight through the mirror.

The effect was that of the windshield of a car. It splintered all over, but the tint and being made of fiberglass kept the glass from shattering on the floor and making noise. Will stood up and pushed the mirror. It wobbled and landed on the floor of the other room with a crunch.

Will climbed through the gaping window. He tried the door and it slid open easily. He began down the hall, there were no guards or doctors or personnel to stop him. Will wasn't sure where he was going but he vaguely recalled the elevators being somewhere in the direction he was heading. He knew he'd have to take the elevator up more than two floors, but he resisted taking it. He found the stairs and bounded up two flights and opened the door to the 1st floor.

There was quite a bit more activity on this floor. People bustled past, but none paid attention to the teen in the pale blue scrubs. He took the chance and walked out onto the floor. He walked quickly and purposefully, mimicking the people around him. He passed a room where two guards were stationed on either side of the door. The guards' heads snapped over at him as he walked past and Will stopped in his tracks. Their eyes were all black but they looked right at him. Will started walking again and the guards followed him until he passed and they went back to staring straight ahead.

Will became aware of the buzzing as soon as he was around all the people but when he passed that room someone shouted incoherently into his head. But what was clear was the intensity and the pain the voice was in. Will looked around for an exit and found none. Four black-eyed guards jogged in unison towards Will and he flattened himself against the wall. As the guards to passed Will he heard Shaker's voice over one of their radios.

When they passed him Will started to the elevators ahead. Suddenly, the guards stopped, turned and started after him. Will looked back and broke into a run, pushing people into the way of the coming guards. He made it to the stairs next to the elevator and ran up them. The guards were a few meters behind him. He made it out of the building and into what seemed like a hollowed out cavern.

Cars, vans, and large semi-trucks were moving in and out of what looked like the only exit. The guards were still behind him and he reached out and mentally moved a trash dumpster in their way. It worked and Will jumped onto the back of a passing truck.

Will rode the truck down the mountain and jumped off when he got to a main road. His head was pulsating faster than he was breathing. He stuck out his thumb and walked along the edge of the road, hoping that anyone would stop for him. Unfortunately, the road he was on was a service road to the complex. Will jogged down the road to the highway, vehicles sailed past him but he wasn't interested in hitching a ride anymore. Across the ways, he could see the neon sign of a fuel station.

He walked into the store and realized he looked like an escapee from a mental asylum in his pale blue scrubs. Nevertheless, Will went up to the counter. The clerk looked up at him and nodded.

"Can I help you?"

Will nodded, "Can I use your phone? I, uh, locked my keys in my car with my phone and everything."

"Come through the back and you can use the one in the storeroom," the clerk said genially.

Will smiled, "Thanks."

"No prob," the clerk led him through a locked door and pointed him to the storeroom.

Will picked up the phone then stopped. He didn't even know what number to dial to contact Madeline or Gibson, or even John and Monica. He sighed and took a chance on the only number he did know.

Two Grey Hills, NM

The PDA in Roe's pocket trilled and he jumped. He looked sheepishly at Monica and the couple. "Excuse me," he said and went outside.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Hello?" A somewhat familiar voice came back to him. "Who is this?" It demanded.

"Who is this? You called me," Roe retorted.

"Where's Madeline?" the voice asked.

Roe frowned. "Will?"


Roe's stomach tightened and he felt guilty for not being more enthused about Will being all right. "It's Arthur Roe. Where have you been?"

"I decided to get out and see the world," Will growled sarcastically. "I was really bored with all the running and hiding."

"Settle down, it was just a question," Roe said.

"Fine. Let me talk to Madeline."

Roe didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if he should. If he told Will that Madeline and Gibson had been kidnapped, most likely by the people who were after him, he might go on a rampage. "Listen Will we're all heading to Washington D.C. There's a place there, some kind of safe house of John and Monica's. Meet us there."

Will had a terrible feeling in his insides. He could tell Roe wasn't telling him something, but he couldn't get into it with him then. "Fine. I'll meet you all in D.C."

Washington D.C.

John sat in a chair, his knee bounced up and down restlessly. Roe had just called him to expect Will. Before John could ask any questions, Roe hung up. John was in the dark, not a position he liked being in. He felt helpless, like he did at the airport when he watched Madeline and Gibson being hauled off in Hazmat vans accompanied by over two dozen men and women. Then there was that woman, he had seen her before, but she had been lying on the ground in a pool of red blood and green goo. And the man whose car she had got in, now he was sure after getting a closer look. He had definitely seen a dead man, twice.

Weak rapping came through the door. John stood up and went to the peephole. Will was standing there, his arm against the door to prop himself up. John unlatched the locks and slowly opened the door. Will nearly collapsed into his arms.

"Easy there partner," John slid his arm under Will's to support him. "Let's get you seated."

"I walked here," Will said hoarsely. "My legs hurt."

"I'll bet," John said and nearly carried Will over to the chair he had been sitting in. "I'll get you some water."

Will nodded and when John returned with a bottle of water, he nearly drank it all in one gulp. "John," he said, "where's Madeline?"

The hesitation John made before replying gave Will his answer. "They took her didn't they?"

John looked so remorseful that if Will didn't know better he would say he was to blame. "And Gibson," he said. "They took both of them."

Will closed his eyes. The buzzing in his head had been from Gibson, only he was too far to hear him. "They're there. At the place I was at. He lied to me."

John put his hand on Will's shoulder, "Go get some rest in the room over there. You need it."

Will nodded, he felt the imminence of his defeat. Soon Shaker would come for him again and they would have all three of them to do with as they wished. Will crept to the room and was soon fast asleep.

Mount Weather Complex
Bluemont, VA

Madeline was lying on the bed in a sterile room. It wasn't an operating room, it was hers, the one that Shaker had lead her to like she was a guest in their hotel. What they don't do in hotels is strap their patrons in their bed. After Shaker left, two nurses came in and tied her down, citing that she was a flight risk or some such thing. Then they hooked up electrodes to her head and an IV to a vein on her arm. She wasn't being medicated so she figured it was for later.

As she lied there, she had flashes. Flashes of Will running, of the red-haired woman crying. There was one of Gibson, hooked up to machines like she was, his head was being drilled into. The flashes were brief and Madeline's head hurt after each one. She tried to think of anything else, it seemed that when she concentrated one would come slowly and not suddenly as before.

She thought of the few days before, when Will had kissed her. His emotions mixed with hers, and there was desperation, uncertainty, some jealousy on his part, and finally the strangest sensation of completeness. Madeline knew that they were young, she was 19 and he was 18 and yet she knew that she had found her soul mate. When Madeline thought of this she had another flash. Her and Will were kissing, caressing each other in a room not unlike hers. They were on the bed being watched by about a dozen men and women, all taking notes and just watching.

Madeline opened her eyes, greeted by the white ceiling above. "Oh god…" she whispered to the empty room. She closed her eyes and began to cry silently.

In the room adjacent to hers, Shaker watched through a two-way mirror. The Bridget-clone stood with him. She looked at the monitors and made a note.

"She's thinking about him," she said with a flat tone. "It spikes whenever she does."

"She's in love," Shaker said. "And so is he." He sighed, "It's started."

Washington D.C.

Will woke up with a start. The buzzing in his head set off another alarm and he thought the Alien Bounty Hunter was near again. He got out of bed and went into the other room. John wasn't there.

"John?" He called out.

The toilet flushed in the bathroom and John came out wiping his hands on his jeans. "You okay, Will?"

Will nodded, "Yeah I just… felt something."

John frowned and suddenly someone knocked on the door. Will immediately tensed and John gave him a reassuring glance. "Take it easy, kid. I don't think bad guys knock."

Will nodded, easing just a bit. John, who wasn't all that positive himself the bad guys weren't on the other side of the door, opened the door.

"Monica!" He said with relief. Will's stomach unclenched.

John and Monica embraced and kissed. They let go and Roe came in. John shook his hand. Roe looked over at Will and it took every ounce of Roe's willpower not to glare at him. Will wasn't so restrained.


Will turned around to see a short woman with brilliant red hair that was streaked with white. Her blue eyes shone with tears.

"William?" She whispered again, hoarsely.

Time ticked by in slow, deliberate increments as Will and this woman stared at each other. Still he couldn't quite place her familiar as she was to him. Tears were running down the sides of the woman's face. A brief hazy memory of this woman singing to him flashed in his mind. He sang the words of this song in an equally hoarse, tentative voice.

"Oh!" She gasped; her hand flew to her open mouth. She rushed toward him and embraced him tightly. "Oh my William… my sweet boy," she hugged him fiercely and sobbed into his chest.

He hugged her back just as tight and breathed in a faint scent that he dimly remembered.

John, Monica and Roe quietly left.

The woman finally let go and looked up into his blue-green eyes. She smiled and gently stroked his face with both hands. "My William, I have missed you everyday."

"So, you're my mother. My real mother," he said.

Dana nodded, "I know I haven't given you a reason to think so," she stopped and exhaled, "but you have to understand one thing." Her voice broke. "I never wanted to give you up, but I had to make a choice and you needed to have as normal a life as possible. One away from danger and death."

He nodded, "Just in the past week, I've seen and done more things I can't begin to explain."

She smiled softly, "Welcome to my world."

"You can call me Will, if you want."

"Okay," she smiled. "You just… you look so much like him."

"My father?"


"Um…A man came and told me that my biological father is dead. He said that I needed to find out who I was, who I am."

Dana looked puzzled, "William… Will, your father's not dead."

"Who's not dead?" A man voice came from ahead of them.

Will turned around and was greeted by a vision of himself. Only in this vision he was older, grayer. The man who had just came through the door looked like Will with a face was lined characteristically by age and eyes that sparkled green.

The man blinked and stared back, "William?"

Will nodded.

The man grinned and hugged him as tight as his mother had. "I can't believe this." He let go and held Will at arms length to study him. "You look like your mother."

"Everyone has been saying I look like you," was all Will could say.

The man nodded absently, "I guess so." He smiled, "You have your mother's eyes though." He brushed hair from Will's brow.

"They said you died."

He laughed, "How many does that make, Dana? Four?"

"This is definitely the fourth time."

"The fourth time, what?"

"That Fox Mulder has been pronounced dead."

"Fox," she said, putting her hand on his and giving him a scolding look.

He turned back to William. "She only calls me that when I'm in trouble," he told him with a hint of a mischievous, boyish grin.

Will smiled back at his father then looked away.

"What is it?" Dana asked him.

"I'm… I had good parents. They loved me very much and now they're dead because… of me," Will stammered.

Dana empathized with her son and Mulder put his arm around him. "Look at me, Will," he said seriously. "You aren't responsible for anything that happened to your parents or to your friends, or even to you. It isn't your fault."

"Isn't it?" Will asked stepping out of Mulder's touch. "I'm some kind of freak or alien or thing that people just want to mess with." His chin quivered. "They changed me."

"Will…" Mulder reached for him, but Will backed away.

"Look," Will said and looked at the chair in the room. Mulder and Scully watched as the chair moved back and forth then finally lifted off the ground. Scully gasped and Mulder blinked in incredulity.

Mulder recovered first and nudged Dana who looked as if she was going to begin crying again. "William…" Mulder struggled for the right words, Dana answered.

"You were born with that," she said. "They didn't change you."

"They didn't?"

"No," she shook her head.

"I couldn't do this before," Will said. "He said… they were coming after me because of you. Because of who I was."

"We were both infected with Alien DNA before you were born. Your mother was experimented on by the government as was I," Mulder explained. "Your mother was barren and through a miracle conceived you. It wasn't an immaculate miracle by the way. A year after you were born, a friend of sorts, injected you with a substance called magnetite. After that you weren't able to move things. That's when we decided to give you a normal life. So in a way you were created."

Will felt his knees begin to give but focused to stand. "So everything they told me was true. My blood, my DNA, is different. And they're going to use it to save everyone."

Mulder and Scully shared a look. "They aren't going to save everyone. They're going to kill them."

"I don't understand."

"The reason… one of the reasons I gave you up was because we had discovered what the government had been planning. They were going to create a race of alien-human hybrids to be slave to the aliens when they arrived on Earth. This conspiracy went to the highest of levels within the government."

"Then why is some Alien Bounty Hunter after my friends."

"What friends?"

"Gibson Praise and Madeline Hosteen. That's the reason I gave myself up, so that the government guys would leave them alone, but then there was a man named Jeffrey Spender at the complex who told me an Alien was after them."

"Jeffrey Spender?"

"Yeah, who is he?"

"My brother," Mulder said. He turned to Scully. "They have him and the others."

"Wait," Will frowned. "You mean they already have Gibson and Madeline?" The walls and furniture in the room began to shake. "They have her there?"

Mulder looked around and Scully touched her son's arm to gently calm him. It worked. Mulder whistled, "That's some power, beats precognition." He sighed, "Well, let's talk to John and Monica and see what kind of plan we can come up with."

"I'm gonna go and sleep for a bit," Will said. "I'm really tired." He disappeared into the other room.

Mulder nodded and opened the door for Monica, John and Roe to come back in. "Dana?"

"I'll be right there," she said to Mulder and followed Will.

Dana knocked on the half-closed door. Will didn't answer and she opened the door. Her son was sitting on the edge of the bed.


He didn't move, he stared at the plain gray carpet. Dana's stomach knotted. As happy as she was to be reunited with her son, the pain he was so obviously feeling stung her as only a mother could understand.

She went over and sat next to him. Not too close, those she wanted to keep touching him, to reassure herself that he was really there.

"When is my birthday?" Will asked.

Dana blinked. She wasn't ready for that question, nor was she ready for the evenness and openness of his voice. "May 22, 2001," she replied. "Why?"

"I'm a year older," he said. "You wanted me to have a normal life?"

Dana nodded, "I wanted so much for you to be normal, to live a normal life with normal parents."

Will grunted. "I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment."

"No!" Dana exclaimed. "You could never… You weren't a disappointment." She looked away, "I was." She let out a shaky sigh. She firmly took his chin in her hand and faced him to her. "You are my miracle," she said. "I love you so much and a part of me died when I gave you away. I could only hope you would have a good life."

Tears stung Will's eyes, he touched his mother's hand on his face. "I did, and I guess I have you to thank for it." Will put his arms around Dana and hugged her. "Thank you," he whispered.

Dana closed her eyes and tears leaked out down her cheeks. "Oh," she said wiping her eyes and smiling at him, "I think of anything to say."

Will smiled back, "How about we save my friends and expose a conspiracy?"

Dana laughed, "Oh you're definitely your father's son."

Bluemont, VA

Madeline was lying on her bed. She wasn't strapped down but she had no desire to stand up. The doctors had left a few hours ago and she felt more miserable than she thought she could feel. Her eyes were still red and puffy from the hour-long crying session she had. First they had injected her with something, then the flashes came almost instantly. With every flash came extraordinary pain. She had vision after vision of the future, or rather what could be the future.

Another flash came, and she saw Shaker walk in with the cold Bridget-clone. The pain in her head wasn't as torturous as before. Not more than five minutes later, Shaker and Clone-Bridget walked in.

"Go away," she said.

"Have you had anymore visions?" Shaker asked.

"No," she told him.

"Are you sure?"

Madeline glared at him and sniffled, "I saw you die," she said. "I saw my father die and my friends. I saw Will die too. You want to know how?"

Shaker raised his eyebrows, "Do tell."

"I killed them. Except you," she said. "She killed you."

Shaker cast a wary eye at the Clone-Bridget. "Her?"

Madeline went back to staring at the ceiling. "If I tell you will you go away?"

"If you tell me."


Shaker glared at Madeline. "Why did you kill Will?"

"Because I had to."


"You said you'd go away."

"I lied," he said. "Tell me."

Madeline was quiet and Shaker sighed irate. She curled up in a ball, her back to them. Shaker nodded for Bridget to leave and she did. Shaker sat on the edge of her bed.

"You don't like her, do you?

"She's not human."

"She's a clone."

"She was never human."

"I don't like her either."

Madeline turned to face him, "You're going to let me go."

"Why would I do that?"

"You like me."

"Not particularly."

"Because they're coming."

Shaker stared at her and suddenly Madeline screamed. She writhed in pain on the bed. Shaker held her down. "It's going to blow up!" she screamed. Shaker's eyes grew wide and he let go of her and left the room. Clone-Bridget was waiting outside.

"What happened?" she asked.

"They're coming," he said before pulling out his gun and squeezing two rounds into her head and neck.

Will strode through the entrance to the complex. Four guards were there and stood in front of him to block his way. By him thinking it, the guards flew back. He turned around and signaled the rest of the group.

Roe and John walked ahead, both shouldering large duffel bags they nodded at Will and disappeared into the cavern. Dana and Monica appeared next.

"Gibson was on the first floor with two guards," Will told them.

Monica nodded and smiled at Will. Dana exhaled and gave her son a fierce hug. "Be careful," she said.

He patted her back soothingly. "I will."

The women left through the elevators and Mulder stood next to Will. "Come on," he said and Will and he took off.

They weaved their way through the complex, avoiding guards and doctors. "How do you know where to go?" he asked Will.

Will shrugged, "I just do."

They were about to exit the stairwell onto the fourth floor when the buzzing came in Will's head. "Something wrong?" Mulder asked.

Will grabbed his head and wrenched back. "Will!" Mulder whispered. He grabbed his son and held him upright. "Will what is it?"

Will groaned. His face was contorted; excruciating pain tore through his brain. "There are people," he gasped. "Hurting. Scared. There are so many…" He screamed and Mulder tried to hush him.

"Where? Will, what room?" Mulder asked.

"At the end of the hall," he sputtered in agony. "Oh god…"

Mulder nodded, "Okay, stay here. I'll go get Madeline. Just stay here."

Will couldn't protest as his father left him in the stairwell.

When Dana and Monica had found him, Dana had a terrible flashback. She remembered telling Gibson that she'd protect him, but she had failed miserably and he had known. Now, Monica and Dana each had an arm under Gibson and were practically dragging him out of the complex.

They got out to the car lot. John and Roe were waiting in a van. John slid open the door to the van and called for them. Roe got out and helped them get Gibson into the van.

"Hey Gib," Roe said. "How you doing?"

"My head hurts," he said.

John chuckled, "Well, you got a hole in it."

Gibson tried to laugh but groaned. "Not the first time."

Dana looked out anxiously for the others. "They should already be here."

"They will," Monica said to her. "They're coming."

Mulder slipped into the hallway, unnoticed. There were no doctors, no guards, nobody in the halls. He walked quickly to the last door and found it unlocked. Mulder stood back in shock in the room. Lined up against the walls, in what looked like large drums of liquid were people. All were curled in fetal position, tubes ran into their mouths, feeding them or helping them breathe.

But it wasn't this that shocked Mulder, it was that he saw himself, or rather clones of him, in at least five of the liquid-filled containers. Two of them in the group were almost fully-grown versions, the other two seemed to be adolescent or teenage, and the other was a baby, not more than a year old it looked.

"Son of a bitch," he said.

As he walked through the room, there was another set of five clones, this time they were clones of Dana Scully. Another grouping of a light-brown haired woman. The last grouping of five was indistinguishable, the clones were all children-sized yet, but they were male.

Mulder walked by the large desk and found notes and digi-files. He set his bag down and he skimmed through them. Tests to clone subjects #022131 and # 022132 failed. More testing concluded that both subjects can not be cloned. Tests to clone subject #022133 were more successful. Amount of time for a mature clone recommended at 10 years. Mulder switched to another file. Subject #022131 and subject #022132 must conceive and produce a child naturally...

A noise disrupted Mulder and he looked to see who was there. "Hello?"

"Fox?" Jeffrey Spender appeared from behind a container. His hair was shaved and there were burn marks symmetrically aligned on either side of his face. His eyes were wide, like he had too much caffeine. "What are you doing here?"

"My son was taken," Mulder replied.

"William," he whispered. "He escaped."

"His friends are here still."

"The mind reader and the girl," Jeffrey nodded. "She's on the next floor."

Mulder inhaled, "Did you read these files?"

Jeffrey nodded again. "They were testing them. Trying to clone them. But they can't be cloned. But they can be bred."


"William and the girl."

Mulder stared at Jeffrey. "They want to breed my son and Madeline?"

"They want to create the perfect alien-human hybrid."

"To do what with?"

Jeffrey stared back at Mulder like it was the simplest explanation. "To harness in the next rung of the evolutionary ladder."

"By using people? By using my son as a catalyst?"

"Of course. It is your son that has alien DNA. They created him for that purpose. And the girl is his counterpart. His other half."

"But she wasn't created. Her mother had alien DNA."

"As did you once, and Dana. They knew that, so they used it. The girl was a fortunate accident."

Mulder looked back at the clones in the tubes.

"They knew where your son was the moment Scully gave him up. They didn't count on the injection of magnetite you had me give him. So they waited until his body could endure the cleansing treatment, or until they found her."

"It's all been for nothing."

"Don't be so fatalist," Jeffrey scoffed. "There's still time left."

Mulder looked up at his half-brother, "Come on, we have to go."

"I can't."


"I'm already dead Fox," Jeffrey said. "I died in that basement in Washington, killed by our father."

"Jeffrey, I don't have time for dramatics," Mulder said impatiently. "We're bringing this hellhole down and we're leaving."

"I understand that, but I know too much now. I've been subjected to their tests and I've read their files. You have to go, you have to save your son this time."

Mulder looked at Jeffrey and understood. "Thank you," Mulder said sticking out his hand.

Jeffrey nodded, and shook Mulder's hand. "Good luck."

In the stairwell, Will forced himself to get up off the floor and climbed the stairs to the next floor where Madeline would be. Will pushed open the door to Madeline's room. She was crumpled in the corner of the room. Her hands were covering her head and shaking.

"It's gonna blow up," she repeated over and over.

Will swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "Madeline?"

She looked up at him. "Will?" She said in a tiny little girl voice. "Will, you can't be here."

Will went over to her and reached out but she cowered back. "It's okay," he said. "I'm gonna get you out of here." He put his arms around her and picked her up. Suddenly, there was a low rumble, then the lights went out and alarms began to blare loudly. The bombs John and Roe placed were starting to go off.

Will ran down all the stairs, adrenaline pumping through his veins and he kicked open an emergency exit door to the cavern and saw light flooding in from the entrance. He hoisted Madeline up to get a better grip on her and began towards their escape. Will got about three meters before he felt the buzzing and Madeline gasped in his arms. A second later he heard the click-click of the hammer of a gun being pulled back.

"No," Madeline whispered. "Just keep walking."

"I don't want to shoot you boy, but I will, make no mistake about that," Shaker said.

Will looked down at Madeline's pleading face. He set her down on her feet and caressed her cheek to console her. He turned around to face Shaker and walked forward. Shaker pulled the trigger twice. Madeline crumpled to the floor and Will stopped. The bullets hit the floor in front of him.

"As I said," Shaker pulled the trigger back again. "I don't want to shoot you. I'd rather save the bullets."

Mulder skidded to a halt. Will was standing in the middle of the room in front of Madeline so that it looked as if he was shielding her from someone. Mulder looked and the color in his face drained and every hair on his body stood on end.

Mulder took the gun out and ran out to his son and the man who had him hostage. He held the gun up, pointed squarely at the man's head.

"Krycek," Mulder spit out the words like it had a bad taste. "Well you haven't aged a day," Mulder said humorlessly.

He smiled, a spark lit in his hazel-green eyes. "Some people are just blessed," Shaker-Krycek replied.

"Or some people are just evil bastards who'll sell their soul for a good enough price," Mulder shrugged. He looked at Shaker's left arm. "Nice hand."

"Good to see you've kept that sarcastic candor all these years." Shaker's own satirical smile widened, "I missed that."

"Can't say the same," Mulder said. "What else did you get for it?"

Shaker clucked his tongue, "No no. If I tell you now I don't get to see the look on your face when you discover the truth."

"Tell me and maybe I'll consider not shooting you this second," Mulder said.

"Shoot me Fox. You know you'll just see me again and again."

"I promised myself I'd live long enough to kill you Krycek. And I will."

"Oh Mulder, I'll be living long after your bone dust is gone."

Realization passed over Mulder like a cold wave. "Skinner shot the real Alexander Krycek. Shot him in the head. You're a clone."

Shaker nodded, "You really are smarter than you look."

"That's what they tell me. So how…"

"C'mon Mulder you used to be good at this. They have the technology, they can rebuild you, make you better, stronger…" He laughed. "They programmed Alex Krycek's memories into me."

Mulder cocked the gun. "Then I hope they program my clone to hate you as much as I do."

You don't hate me Fox," Shaker told him confidently. "You like me being your foil."

"You tried to kill my son. I should put a bullet through your head. Again."

"No," Shaker shook his head. "I only facilitated his capture and treatments, and then they made me wait until he learned what he is."

"He's a boy!" Mulder shouted. "You took away his future!"

"I gave him back his past," Shaker said firmly. "I showed him the path to the truth."

"Spare me the over-dramatized reveille. You're nothing more than an over-glorified hit man. You always were," Mulder viciously growled.

This didn't affect Shaker. He kept talking. "Your aliens came a long time ago, before December 22, 2012, before your son was born, before your father gave up your sister, hell before Roswell. They began their colonization and the government did what it could to resist them. You were always looking for the truth Fox, and when you found it you couldn't handle it." Mulder's resolve was wavering. Shaker nodded. "You know what I'm talking about. The government you fought against, the one you wanted to expose was only trying to protect us. The hybrids were never meant to be slaves, they were meant to be resistance fighters, along with the other aliens, we were to be soldiers in a revolution."

Mulder contemplated the Krycek-clone's feverish spiel. Slowly he squeezed the trigger of the gun. Two bullets whizzed through the air, one lodging itself in Shaker's shoulder, the other passing through his left lung. The clone shouted and fell back. Mulder stepped up to him and aimed at his head. "Now you're spouting off insanity."

"Kill me Fox. Please end it." Shaker inhaled and exhaled erratically, "Your son will never be normal, but he'll be safe." He grabbed Mulder's gun barrel and shoved it to his head. "Kill me!" he screamed.

Fox Mulder tightened the grip of the firearm in his hand, then he let go and dropped his arm down to his side. "No," he said. "I don't value your life over that of a cockroach, but I'm not going to kill you."

The Krycek-clone stared at Mulder. Just then another bomb exploded close to them. Debris began to fall overhead, Will scooped Madeline up and called out to his father. "Let's go!"

Mulder took one last look at the clone of Alexander Krycek and followed his son. The Krycek-clone scrambled for his gun, but before he could pull the trigger, two shots rang out. One caught him in the back of the head and the other in the back of the neck. Will and Mulder whirled around and saw Dana standing there with he gun smoking.

"Where the hell are you going?" she asked them.

Will and Mulder looked at each other and shrugged.

National Protection and Investigation Bureau
Washington D.C.

The heels of his shoes echoed down the empty hallway. He turned the corner down another empty hallway and his shoes clicked until he reached his destination. He straightened his tie and opened the door.

The board members were already seated at a long table before him. He nodded a greeting to all of them in general and laid a paper file on the table. He stood back and clasped his hand behind his back.

"Director Follmer," the woman started, not bothering to look at the file. "You've been the head Director of Special Projects for close to ten years now, is that correct?"

Brad Follmer nodded, "That is right."

"And you are prepared to take responsibility for the mishap at the Mount Weather Complex?"

"No ma'am, I am not." There was a low murmuring amongst the members. He glanced over all of them. "Nor do I think 'mishap' is the proper word."

"Well, we are all subjected to our opinions, Director Follmer," she said. "What are you taking responsibility for?"

"The destruction of the complex."

"Are we to believe that you were part of the group that attacked the private and highly classified complex?"

"No ma'am," Follmer said. "I myself have just discovered the kinds of experimentations that were occurring at the complex. If the complex hadn't been destroyed I would have shut it down myself."

"And yet yours is among the names of those who endorsed the projects."

"I was led to understand that the complex was continuing on the research of extra-terrestrial life as so department has been working on."

The man to the left of the woman grunted. "The X-Files are dead, Director Follmer. Along with all that worked on it."

The woman ignored him and continued, "As far as we know, Director Follmer, it was."

"But did you know the so-called researchers at the complex were experimenting on human subjects?"

The board members all looked at each other, "As a matter of fact, Director Follmer, we did," she replied.

Brad Follmer frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"We became aware of the situation after the second year when clone developers came to us with an idea."

"I-I'm having a hard time understanding, but why was I, as head of Special Projects, not informed."

"We can't disclose those details with you at this time."

Follmer nodded curtly. "You'll find in my detailed report, which I also have copies of, cites my late knowledge about the goings-on at the Mount Weather Complex, and that my opinion is that whatever went on there was a gross misuse of the NPIB's time and expense."

"That will be noted, Director Follmer."

"You will also note that if you require a letter of my resignation from my post, I have one ready, awaiting only my signature."

"We don't think that will be necessary, Director."

"You haven't read my report yet, ma'am."

The woman took off her glasses and looked Follmer in the eyes. She wasn't an intimidating woman, she seemed more like teacher than head of a major government operation, but right then Follmer understood why she had been elected the head of the National Protection and Investigation Bureau.

"Director Follmer, unlike my colleagues, I pass judgment on those who I believe have warranted it. Now, it is because of your closeness with those who worked on the X-Files that partly earned you your position."

"Perhaps, ma'am, it is because of my involvement with those people that your plans have failed."

"Are you trying to tell us Mr. Follmer," the man spoke up, "that you've been in contact with those people?"

Follmer shook his head, "Of course not. The X-Files is dead, along with all those who were involved with them. Besides, I would never betray the government's trust."

The woman nodded, "Thank you, Director Follmer. I'm sure we've taken up enough of your time."

Follmer turned around and walked out of the room. He got back to his office and closed the door. "Everything is taken care of," he said to the door.

Monica and Roe who were sitting on the couch stood up as he turned around. Monica went over and gave him a hug, "Thank you."

He smiled at her, "Now we're even," he said. He sighed, "You should get out of the country if you know what's good for you."

Monica nodded, "We will."

Roe shook Follmer's hand, "I'll drop you a line, Uncle Brad, let you know where we're at."

Follmer shook his head, "Have I taught you nothing Artie?"

Roe grinned and he and Monica left the room.

Chipping Norton

Oxfordshire, United Kingdom

3 months later

Will sat on a rock near the garden on the grounds of his parent's home in England. It was a gray-skied day and had been drizzling since morning. He would have to get used to the weather. His father stepped out of the house and saw Will sitting alone and walked over to him

Mulder sighed, "British weather," he commented. "You'll get used to it."

Will chuckled, "I was just thinking that."

Mulder settled next to Will. "You send in your application to Oxford?"

"Yeah, yesterday," Will replied.

"Still interested in Astronomy?"

"Actually I was thinking about molecular science."

Mulder grimaced, "Really?"

"Yeah," Will leaned back on his palms. "Genetics, DNA… I thought it might come in handy someday."

"I suppose so," Mulder mused.

"You think I can do it?"

"I think you can do anything you put your mind to."

"You have to say that."

Mulder shook his head, "No I don't."

They sat quietly for a few moments. A light shower watered the ground and when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, the grass shimmered around them.

"Ever since I was a kid I have been looking for an explanation to everything," Mulder said softly. Will tilted his head to listen. "I couldn't rely on hard, cold science because there was so much that still needed explaining. There were miracles and contradictions that science couldn't always explain. So I sought out the truth. And when I finally did find it, I realized that I had given up too much to obtain it, and I was in danger of losing the one thing I still had. Your mother doesn't know this, but I regret her following me. I am responsible for her having to give you up, for her abduction and the illness that left her barren. I almost got her killed a hundred times… but she still never gave up on me. I guess that was her obsession."

Will knit his brows, "Do you really believe that?"

"Sometimes I really do."

"Well, I think you're dumb."

Mulder threw back his head and laughed. "I guess I am." He looked with a fatherly love into his son's eyes. "There was only one thing I never cared if I got an explanation for or not."

"What was that?"

"You," he said. "You were the one miracle I believed in with my whole heart and mind. The miracle I still believe in."

Will nodded, "And fate?"

"I think most of what happens is out of our hands. There was a reason 28 years ago that a rookie FBI agent was assigned to debunk the work of an intense, some said paranoid, fellow agent. Only to believe his ideas as well. He would open her up to possibilities beyond the explanation of science and reminded her of what it was to have faith in the unseen and she loved him for that. In return she taught him what it was to be human and not a shell or a crusade and he loved her for that. So yeah, I do believe in fate, son. Fate is what brought us together, what gave us you and returned you. Fate is what brought you to her."

Will looked at his father. "So what do we control?"

Mulder gazed out and saw Madeline standing at the doorway, looking around for them. He stood up and tousled Will's hair. "The moments."

Will watched his father walk back to the house. He passed Madeline and the two said hello. Will watched the wind blow her hair back. She looked like she did in the dream. He stood up and she saw him, their eyes locked, and they smiled.

"My name is William. I was born for two reasons. To prove that an alien-human hybrid could be born naturally and to stop the men who began this project. For over 70 years these men covered up the greatest conspiracies in history. They eliminated every person who got close to discovering the truth, until an ambitious, young FBI agent was determined enough to expose the truth. The men would never be successful in killing him as the one thing that couldn't be corrupted happened: love. However, they used this to their advantage. They took the young and ambitious FBI agents' love and manipulated it. And so I am the product of pure love between two people and the fears and lies of the men who tried to destroy their spirits and failed."

The End.

A/N: That's it. I apologize for not making this sooner, but classes started and I had little time to work on this. It was really fun writing this. It was my first X-Files fanfic, and I'm thinking about doing some more. Thanks to all who reviewed and all who liked it.

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