The Lambs: Part 2 (10/21) by Lamia (AKA so kiss me goodbye) Rating: PG-13 (violence, strong language) Category: S Spoilers: Seasons 1-9, Fight the Future Keywords: William; Colonization Summary: Liam van de Kamp's life changes the day two FBI agents kidnap him and his parents. Author's Note: The Lambs is a three-part story (with prologue). Chapter 20 December 25, 2011 New Mexico Liam opened his eyes to the darkness, rolled from his bed and, scrambling into a sweater, slid open the door onto their tiny living quarters. His parents weren't up - they never woke before he did on Christmas Day. He danced on his toes and bit his lip, wondering what he should do. Back home he always went to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for everyone because the rule was no presents until breakfast was eaten and the dishes were away. Here, old rules didn't always make sense. Habits were hard to break, however; he dashed out the door, made a detour to the bathroom, and encountered a steady stream of his friends heading to their classroom. They flowed into the space with yells and laughter which grew even louder when someone flicked on the lights. The tables and chairs had been stacked and pushed to one side. Homemade green and red decorations festooned doorways and piled furniture, and at the head of the room - where Liam's mother's desk usually was - a giant green tree painted on brown paper went from the bottom of the wall to the top and spread wide. He had been warned not to expect much this Christmas, but the volume of boxes and parcels stacked beneath the paper tree hinted he would get more than he expected. The littlest children - more were appearing every second - ran forward with squeals and were reaching for and touching the parcels before anyone could stop them. His responsibility gear kicked in and Liam found himself persuading a five-year-old they should wait until everyone else arrived so they could share the fun. "It's okay to look, but if you open it now, Santa might get his elves to steal it back." He doubted anything less than a threat would work, such was the intent on the kid's face. The boy sneered at him. "No, he won't." Liam looked up in relief when a figure towered over them. "How do you know?" Mulder asked, sucking on a candy cane. He was dressed for outside in a thick coat and boots that glistened to say he had already been topside this morning. When the other children became aware of him, they gave each other uneasy glances, uncertain if they had been caught doing something naughty. Not the five-year-old though. "Because Santa's just made up." He poked his tongue out. All the same, under Mulder's bemused stare, he lowered the parcel and backed away before he broke into a scamper. "Jeez. They only come with fangs these days?" Mulder asked, watching the kid retreat to the back of the room where another adult had appeared and was passing out more candy canes. Liam lifted the label on the box and laughed. "It wasn't even for him - unless his name's really Isabella." Yawning parents started to trickle through the door. Mrs. Scully, still in dressing gown and slippers, spied Liam and Mulder and made a beeline towards them. She gave Mulder an appraising look. "You're up early." "I had to see this for myself. It's one of the planet's great migrations. Are we sure these kids aren't operated by remote control? They zeroed in on the tree like it was sending out radio signals." "It has to be seen to be believed," Mrs. Scully agreed. "Is Dana up? She shouldn't miss this." Mulder rubbed a hand through his hair. "She's at the lab -" "Today?" The sharpness of her exclamation startled Liam. "I think she's onto something - she won't tell me what but she's been at the lab before 5am most mornings." Mrs. Scully made a face. "I don't care how close she is to some breakthrough, Fox - she'll regret not being here today." "Don't worry, Maggie - I have a plan." Mulder turned to Liam. "Wanna come for a walk?" They set out at a determined pace. Mulder didn't have to say where they were going. "Is Dr. Scully still mad at you?" Liam asked. "First of all, Scully was never really mad at me - she was temporarily out-of-sorts because of a situation she had no control over." "And now she's not telling you stuff because you wouldn't tell her stuff." "That's close enough to the mark." Mulder grinned. "But that doesn't necessarily mean she's mad at me. Scully doesn't know how to stay mad at people - most of the time - she just finds ways to avoid having to pretend they exist." "I don't blame her for being angry," Liam said. As much as he liked Mulder, he thought Dr. Scully had a right to feel hurt. "Keeping secrets is sometimes just as bad as telling lies - and that was some secret." Word of Mulder's admission hadn't leaked beyond those who witnessed it; his parents were too respectful to spread stories about neighbors, and if Mrs. Scully had told anyone, they'd kept their mouths shut. With no one to discuss it, Liam couldn't decide if he truly believed Mulder's secret. When Mulder had told him months ago, he assumed he was joking - or there was something more to the story. But Dr. Scully had had no doubts. Not for one second. As soon as she had heard the words, she believed him. After she stormed from the mess hall, Mulder had run to chase her. What they talked about when he caught up to her remained between the couple. All Liam knew was that now, several weeks later, the supersoldier was still at the bottom of the pit and Dr. Scully had rejected any suggestion of ending his life. Stories had gone around camp that she had sought ideas on how to keep the supersoldier as cool as possible (the weather seemed to be helping naturally with that in any case); that had been just after Mulder's confession. If there was any more news on the supersoldier's condition, Liam hadn't heard it. And although Dr. Scully may have believed Mulder, weeks later, she still didn't seem ready to forgive him, spending little time with him at mealtimes and contributing little to conversations with him. "If you would've just told Dr. Scully at the start, none of this would have happened." "It's a little late for advice, kid. Anyway - where's all this coming from? The master secret-keeper himself - Liam?" Mulder put a hand out as Liam stumbled. "Just tripped." Liam waved away his help. "I'm alright." "Was that literally a Freudian slip?" Mulder said, straight-faced. Liam pretended not to get the reference. He didn't really know who Freud was, but he knew what Mulder was getting at. Mulder didn't know how Liam had been feeling these past weeks; he would have been referring to Jeremiah and all those conversations Liam had eavesdropped on. *That's what he meant by secret-keeper.* Liam rushed to deflect attention from his stumble. "I felt much better after I told Mom and Dad everything." Only, he hadn't told them everything - or each time he did, another, bigger secret came along to take its place. Maybe this was his opportunity, a chance to tell someone about his fears: about his connection to all the weird things happening; how he seemed to know what Sal was thinking; how sometimes he'd swear he knew whether Jerry the frog was happy or not; how Jeremiah was convinced the supersoldier would not hurt him; how Liam was starting to wonder if ... He couldn't finish the thought; he didn't even want to think the words in his head. *Think how stupid they would sound out aloud.* He couldn't start that conversation even if he really wanted to. Maybe Mulder had an excuse after all. He hurried on. "All I mean is, it takes a lot of effort to keep a secret. Even though it's bad, at least she knows now. She'll get used to the idea." Liam did a mental check. *Should I take those words back?* How could anyone ever get used to the idea of seeing dead people? He couldn't resist the question. "How do you know it's not all in your head?" Mulder shrugged. "I don't, but they haven't lied to me so far." "Are they okay? Can they tell you what happened to them - how - when they died? Mr. de Rosier didn't die because he helped us, did he?" Mulder's pat on his back was sympathetic. "It doesn't work that way, Liam. They're not there all the time. And when they are, we don't just have a normal, everyday conversation. Mostly they tell me things they think I need to know - which isn't always what I want to hear." "Wow - that's inconsiderate." Mulder laughed. "Did that lady tell you why she wanted us to save the supersoldier?" "Monica? Not exactly - but if I had to guess. Hmmm -" Mulder studied him. "Maybe if you need to ask why, you're not old enough to know." Liam frowned, fighting an urge to stamp his foot. "That's - oh. She was his girlfriend? Is that what you mean?" He trotted to catch up with Mulder. "But you said they tell you things you need to know. If she thought Dr. Scully could save the supersoldier, why didn't she tell her how?" "What makes you think she didn't?" "But -" Liam gave a small grunt of annoyance. "But the supersoldier's still sick." "He's not getting any worse -" "He's just not getting any better, right?" There was no way Mulder could disagree with him. Everyone knew it. "Is Dr. Scully working on a cure for him - is that why she been working so hard?" "Yes and no. Saving Doggett is like an extracurricular activity since no one else is that keen on seeing him survive - they're just too scared to argue with her. Mostly she's been working on another project. Do you know how vaccines are made?" Liam wrinkled his nose. "I read about that. Don't they use viruses? They inject a small bit into your body and your body learns to fight it." "That sounds about right." "I get it - Dr. Scully's trying to make a vaccine using the supersoldier." "Got it in one, kid. The way the supersoldier virus works, by the time you turn into a supersoldier - by the time anyone knows that's what's happening to you - all of the virus in you is already dead. They tried making a vaccine from the dead virus but that didn't work. After they started looking for the virus that made Doggett sick, however, they discovered something new. They *think* they've found the live virus - not the one making him sick now - the one that made him a supersoldier." "Two viruses? That's great news, isn't it?" Liam asked. "So they can make a vaccine from the second one?" "That's the hope." When they reached the flight of stairs leading down, Liam balked. "Aren't we supposed to stay away from the lab?" "We're not going far," Mulder replied. True to his word, they stopped at the bottom of the stairs where he called out. "Scully?" It took a moment for her to appear and not until Mulder had turned the hallway light on and off several times. She appeared halfway down the corridor. She had on a white lab coat and didn't come any closer. Her arms were stiff at her sides and her hands were sunk deep in the pockets of her coat. "What is it, Mulder?" "You're going to miss Christmas, Dr. Scully," Liam said, pushing in front of his friend. "The lab's not going anywhere," Mulder said. "It won't hurt you to spend a day away." "Mulder -" "You want to punish me, fine - but don't punish yourself, Scully. Don't punish your family." At this distance Liam could just make out the twisting on her face. "Damn it, Mulder. This is important; we're so close -" "It can wait." He wasn't giving her a choice. To ignore him would have bleak consequences. "There are other people to consider." Liam wanted to warn him that wasn't the way to do it - to go kinder. It wouldn't be any fun if Dr. Scully scowled the day away because she felt she had been forced. The standoff reached breaking point, and then the doctor's shoulders heaved. She released a breath of resignation and peeled back the gloves on her hands before leaning into the lab to toss them away. By the time she joined them, the cold anger Mulder had put in his voice had disappeared, and the doctor wore a weak, remorseful smile. "You've got to see it to believe it, Scully. At the sight of the Christmas Tree some of those kids went feral. It was like a trip to the zoo." He rubbed his hands, gleeful. "Oh, and you'll never believe who's playing Santa's elf. Wait" - he turned with a worried face - "you're too old to believe in Santa Claus, aren't you, Liam? I haven't just spoiled Christmas for you?" "Haha," Liam replied just as Dr. Scully said, "who?" Mulder mouthed a name. "Skinner?" Dr. Scully snorted. "Well, why didn't you just say so? I wouldn't miss that for the world." Whatever Dr. Scully was really feeling, Liam had to hand it to her. Her smile may have been like a mask that didn't quite reach her eyes, but she kept it on as they traveled back to the hall, and she even played along with Mulder's joking. The closer they got to the hall, the louder the echo of chatter became. A figure waiting at the entrance stepped forward when she saw them approach. "Oh, thank goodness." Marie put her hand on her heart. "Margaret said you'd gone to get Dr. Scully. I thought you were going to miss this - everyone else is here." Woolen bed blankets had been strewn across the floor and families all mixed up together, sitting picnic-style, filled the room almost to overflowing. Just about everyone living at the camp was there - only those who had volunteered for guard duty, and people like Gibson and Rudi, who didn't like social occasions, were absent. Mrs. van de Kamp weaved through the throng, leading them to a couple of rugs close to the front. Liam's dad and Mrs. Scully, both still in dressing gowns, waved them over. Sal sat next to Mr. van de Kamp, her tail swishing against the rug. When Liam dropped down crossed-legged, his dad tousled his hair. "Can't stop you having adventures, can we, son?" "I only went to get -" He broke off when he realized his dad was teasing him. Before he could say another word, the door to the store room that he and Ellie had once hidden in sprang open and a man dressed as Santa stepped out, inciting squeals and screams from the smallest children. (Even the five-year-old Liam had argued with, Liam noted.) No one was too old for Santa (obviously Major Drummond) and his elf helper, who seemed to find something for everyone under the paper tree. Liam studied his own presents with satisfaction: a tiny magnetic game board (small enough to fit in the palm of his hand easily); a pocket knife; a Maglite; sneakers and clothing, including a sweater, which he suspected came from Mrs. Scully because he remembered seeing the same colored yarn on her needles once. His mother made him stand up so she could hold his new (second hand) pair of jeans against him. The legs grazed the floor but she looked pleased. "You've shot up, Liam. I can take the hems down on your old clothes, but at least it'll take you a while to grow out of these." His parents took delight in their own small gifts. Liam had made them both large photo frames by decorating stiff cardboard and filled them with pictures of life at the camp. He had done something similar for Mulder and the Scullys, making them 2012 calendars using more photos. Even Sal got to share in the excitement with a bag of bones. "Here's one more with your name on it, Liam," Mr. Skinner said, handing over the small rectangular parcel just as Mulder reached out to tweak the drooping bell on the end of his elf hat. Mr. Skinner glared at Mulder. Dr. Scully bit her lip. "That one's from us." By the feel of it, Liam knew it was a book. He picked off the tape strip by strip and opened out the newsprint wrapping paper. Inside lay a well-thumbed, tattered paperback. Liam read the title: Ender's Game. "It isn't new, I'm sorry," Dr. Scully said. "I had a new copy of Holes, but then your mother told me you had that already, and I - I wanted to get you something you hadn't read." Liam leafed through the book. It was clear she had tried to smooth out the bent corners and tape had been neatly applied to an inner page with a tear. The blurb didn't say much about the story; he flipped it to examine the cover again. A tiny pilot in a spacesuit was looking at a moon. Dr. Scully still looked anxious and he wanted to reassure her. "Thank you," he said. "I know I'm going to love it." For the first time that day, he thought the mask disappeared from her face. Her eyes smiled. After the presents were opened, everyone cleared away the wrapping paper and ribbons, then Liam and his classmates divided the scraps into two boxes - one for reusable things, one for rubbish - while some of the adults set up for a Christmas Day service. As services went, it was fairly informal (they sat on the floor again, not bothering to bring out the long seats). For once Mulder stayed for the service, smirking when Dr Scully accused him of using it as an excuse not to help in the kitchen. The service over, Marie told Liam to put his gifts away and come back after he'd had a proper wash. By midday they were lining up in the mess hall for Christmas dinner. The meal was even better than Thanksgiving; there was plenty of cranberry sauce to go with the turkey, and the vegetables weren't the dehydrated ones from packets. There was no cream or ice cream, but Liam was able to drown a small slice of apple pie in custard. There were even little fried potato cakes and donuts filled with jam - prepared for Hanukkah celebrations, into which Christmas fell slap bang in the middle this year. He hadn't felt this stuffed in forever. Liam was simultaneously rubbing his tummy while eying up a third helping of pie, when three familiar heads bobbed their way through the room. Alan Hirsh's dreadlocks were unmistakable. He was flanked by Toby, and oddly, Gibson. Mulder watched them enter from under droopy eyes. "The three wise men." Like Liam, he looked as if he'd made the most of dinner. Toby shoulder-tapped Dr. Scully and she turned in surprise. Grins as wide as their faces, he handed over one photo while Alan presented another. "Merry Christmas," they said. Gibson hung back; Liam wondered if his being there was coincidental. He didn't appear interested in the photos or the students. A thrill went through Liam. Dr Scully's hands tightened as she studied the images. She looked at one, then she flicked to the other, then back again. "Is this -?" Toby nodded. "Dr. Scully, meet Mr. Virus - *and* his close friend Mr. Antibody." Her hands shook. "That's -" "That's not all." Gibson took a brusque step forward. Utensils went down and talking stopped. "John's asking for you." Color drained from her cheeks and the doctor gave a small shake of her head. "Did you say ..." The hint of a smile on Gibson's face was unnatural; so was the kindness in his voice. "I said *John's* asking for you -" Dr. Scully was already on her feet and hurrying to the exit, Mulder two paces behind her. Space had been made in the hall so those who hadn't gone to sleep off Christmas dinner had room to play as many different games as they could think of - even a rough game of musical chairs that involved some good-natured trickery and cheating, and a crazy game of hide and seek where they scuttled on hands and knees between the legs of stacked furniture. As he raced to grab a chair or find the best hiding place, his thoughts on Gibson's announcement raced in his head. Dr. Scully and Mulder were gone for more than an hour, but when they returned the change in the doctor was magical. She hugged her mother and grabbed Mr. Skinner's hand, spinning him around. "It's him. It's *really* him," Liam heard her saying. "Monica was right. The solution was to lower his temperature - the same thing we did for Mulder. The implications, Skinner! Just think what this could mean." Her mood was infectious; the news about the supersoldier known as John Doggett set the camp on fire with excitement, until word also got out that the scientists were confident they had unlocked the key to a vaccine, and then Liam wondered if the adults had gone insane. A laptop with speakers appeared and Alan ordained himself DJ for the afternoon. Dr. Scully laughed, she danced, there wasn't a game she didn't join in and when at last, no one had any energy to do more than flop on the floor, Liam and Ellie started reading Ender's Game out aloud, complete with serious voices for all the characters. Those that were hungry went off for an informal evening meal - leftovers in sandwiches. But Liam didn't think he could stuff another bite in his mouth today after all he had eaten. With the room emptying out, Liam got Dr. Scully and Mulder talking about what they usually did for Christmas, and that's when they started telling him stories from their days at the FBI. They even had a Christmas tale that involved ghosts and a haunted mansion. Ellie and Liam lay on their stomachs, heads resting on chins while the couple - Dr. Scully's head on Mulder's shoulder, his arm around her while he leaned up against the leg of a desk - shared the story. One could not speak for the other laughing and disagreeing or picking at details. "And so" - Mulder eyed the doctor, daring her to interrupt one last time - "there we were dragging ourselves through our own pools of blood, desperate to get to the door to escape the ghosts' evil -" Dr. Scully giggled. "I still can't believe you shot me!" "Maybe I just wanted to even things up?" His hand entwined hers as he spoke. "You know, it's just struck me, Scully. Is this really a story we should be telling the children?" "It does have more of a Halloween ring to it ..." Ellie considered the suggestion. "It really *isn't* a very good Christmas story." "But it's okay about the blood and stuff," Liam said. "Like, it's not a real story because ghosts don't exist." Scully was inexplicably smug as Mulder suffered a coughing fit. "Whoa," he said, holding his hand to his chest. The doctor gave him a helpful pat on the back. "Just drive a stake through my heart, Liam. Do you remember any of that conversation we had this morning?" Liam sat up, perplexed. "But - it's just a story, right?" In his mind he had never connected the idea that the people Mulder saw and spoke to might be, well, *ghosts*. "You didn't rule out the possibility it was all in your head." Then, out of concern that he had insulted his friend, he tried to backtrack. He thought they were just making things up - just telling stories to entertain him. There was no way any of it could be true - vampires! Alien worms! A man-sized flukeworm! Scary clone girls! Evil computers! "Ghosts *might* be real," he said, hoping it sounded like a genuine concession. "It's hard to believe in them without proof ..." "Like scientific proof?" Dr. Scully asked. "Yes, scientific proof would be good. Or maybe if I saw one - I'd probably believe in ghosts if I saw one." That brought an inexplicable grin to Mulder's face. It was the doctor's turn to frown. "Seeing isn't always believing, Liam." "You're the expert in that, Scully," Mulder said. She punched him on the shoulder. He winced, but it didn't knock the expression off his face. "Not that I think I'll actually ever see one," Liam answered, now having to backpedal for both of them. "Mulder's probably a special case" - Dr. Scully sniggered - "but wouldn't it be awful if ghosts did exist and we kept saying they didn't because we never went looking? Shouldn't we at least look?" Dr. Scully put her hand to her chin. "It's good to search for answers," she said, "but it's also important to recognize our own human limitations and set a provable, quantifiable threshold against which we hold our judgments to ensure we don't allow our deficiencies to blind us -" Mulder cut in with a yawn. "To the possibilities?" " - or let us see what we desire so desperately to believe," she finished. Mulder stared up at the ceiling. "Is this our version of the family Christmas argument, Scully? Some people argue about economics or race, others battle wars over politics or religion -" "We end up debating the finer points of the paranormal? You may be onto something, Mulder." Now she was yawning. She slipped further against him and he enclosed her in the full circle of his arms. Eyes closed, he said, "Kid's pretty sharp, isn't he?" A little smile tugged on her lips. "He's a credit to his parents." Her brow furrowed, but the tiny lopsided grin remained. "All of them." Watching them made Liam remember he'd been up for hours. As he and Ellie were rising to their feet, he heard Mulder ask, "Happy?" The smile on Dr. Scully's face was her own; the mask had been thrown away hours before. "Happiest." Liam put off going to the bathroom as long as he could; the words and chapters of Ender's Game were flying beneath his hands. Eventually his bladder won out and he was forced to run to the bathroom. Christmas Day was nearly over, which made him sad. The way he sometimes just *knew* things, he knew this was one Christmas he would never forget. As he burst through the door of the bathroom, he was instantly aware of the doctor standing at a sink with her hands scrubbing at something. She flinched on seeing him, but the smile she had worn earlier sprang back. He came a little closer and was surprised to see a rivulet of red spiral down the plug hole. Then he saw her reflection in the mirror and he gasped. "Dr. Scully, are you okay? Your nose is bleed ..." Obviously she didn't need him to point that out to her. She dabbed her nose with the sodden handkerchief again. When he saw her eyes in the mirror, they shone with joy - and something else. Something like desperation. "Please don't worry, Liam," she said, and he couldn't tell if she was on the verge of tears or laughter. "I don't think I've ever had a better day."