Redemption (5/26)
by GeorgeHale

Rating: R
Feedback:

Classification: Colonization/Mythology/MSR/William, post
I.W.T.B. Canon.
Spoilers: Left, right, & center. This is best served if you
REALLY know your X-Files.

Disclaimer: I wish I made this. This has been my catharsis, five
years in the making. Maybe it can be one for you, too.

Warning: Violence, Gratuitous employment of the 'Our little
sailor' clause (swearing,) Fluff with two 'f's, Cheesy dialogue,
Friendly Ghosts, Melodramatics, Plot devices, Fiji Mermen
(no, not really,) Angst, Blasphemy, Dehydration via crying,
Scientific Whammies, Plams, Lots & Lots & Lots of...Bees,
Magical Growing Scully Cross Chain, Red Herrings. It's going
to get strange and ugly before the end.

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V

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"If you are out to describe the truth, leave elegance to the
tailor."

- Albert Einstein

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Late in the evening of the fifth day, William woke up.
Disoriented and feeling the need to cough, he thought he was
having a nightmare for several minutes as he struggled to tear
out his IV and breathing tube. Mulder restrained him as gently
as he dared and tried to calm him down. As recognition dawned
in William's brain, he placed where he knew the man and
woman from and stilled suddenly, looking up into Mulder's
eyes. His wrists were clenched in Mulder's hands and Mulder
felt his terror.

"Be still and let us help you, William. You're alright. You're
safe with us." The shimmer of the virus that had glazed his eyes
was gone and Mulder felt his heart swell with gratitude.

Scully motioned for Mulder to help William sit up and
explained to him softly how she would take out the breathing
tube. Mulder had always admired how amazing she was with
children and how devoted she had been to their son's care these
last few extended days. Though a short time, it had seemed like
an eternity from the time they had arrived at the compound and
he silently thanked the Fates for her medical training.

William leaned back into his pillow, feeling weak and
nauseous once Scully had finished. Mulder saw his memory
was beginning to return to him as she left to get him some
water from the other room. "William, you had said you had
nightmares about what could happen. Your dreams came true.
You drew them." Mulder couldn't resist probing what the boy
knew.

"Mulder, let him rest," Scully called.

William blinked and wet his lip. His mouth had never felt so
dry and he coughed again, feeling the raw irritation in his
throat. He assessed Mulder cautiously, unsure how much to
disclose to the stranger he somehow knew. "You'll think I'm
crazy if I tell you."

Mulder chuckled as he made eye contact. William had no idea
who he was talking to. "Try me."

William swallowed collecting his thoughts, debating what to
say between fits of coughing. "I've had bad dreams for a while,
maybe the last month or two. My parents said it was just a
phase I'd grow out of because I'm growing, but then I kept
having them...I was always covered with insects in the one I
had the most. Bugs in my eyes and hair and mouth, so many
that I couldn't tell what direction anything was in and I couldn't
get them off. Covering every inch of me. I remember how it felt
to have them crawling all over and down my throat - I *never*
wanted to feel that again. So I put the plastic up over all the
windows to keep the bugs out. I slept up there sometimes and it
felt better that way."

Mulder wondered if William had ever had dreams about the
beach like he had and that question prompted dozens more. The
other questions could wait, however. "What do you remember
happening last?" he pushed.

"The bees," William whispered, remembering. "So many... 
they swarmed like a black fog and I ran. There were some in
my tree house. I stapled the plastic over the door so more
couldn't get in, but they were making this horrible sound, like
an engine revving. I got stung killing the bees that were left,
and the whole time I heard Pop screaming. I couldn't help him
or my Mom or my sister...I just felt sad and angry and
hopeless while I stood there and I was going to go back out but
I felt like I couldn't move anymore...and then I must have
passed out I think, until you came. You're friends of my
parents, aren't you?"

"What makes you ask me that?" Mulder asked, tilting his head.

"You knew my name. Everybody calls me Will, though. No
one has called me William since I was really small. You look
familiar, though, like I should know you. My Mom talked a few
times about my Godparents. She had said they had helped her
and Pop have me, but I never met them."

Mulder smiled at the irony, knowing he had to concoct
something beyond the truth, but not wanting to lie. "Your
mother and I are old friends. We used to work together."

William's left eyebrow twitched upward, and Mulder
recognized the mannerism from Scully who betrayed it when
she detected a whammy. William didn't push the issue,
however, so Mulder dropped it. While he didn't like deceiving
his son about the truth, William already had enough trauma to
cope with for the moment.

"How long have I been here," William asked, looking around.
"Are we in a hospital?"

"It's a hospital of sorts. We've been here five days."

Will's eyes grew more alert as he struggled to sit up. "My
family, they're all de-"

"Yes," Mulder finished for him, feeling the extraordinary wave
of guilt wash over him anew. "I'm sorry."

The boy covered his eyes with his hand and sank deeper into
his pillow, turning on his side away from the man. Alone in the
world where everything and everyone he had ever known and
loved were lost. He didn't want this man to see him cry as tears
burned his eyes and the full gravity of their fate sank in. None
of this could actually be real. This had to be just another one of
his nightmares.

Scully returned with the water then and few throat lozenges
that had been brought with other supplies for their quarantine
but froze when she saw their mutual expression, and her brow
furrowed in a silent question.

"His family," Mulder mouthed.

"Oh," Scully said sadly, setting the items in her hands on the
table attached to the bed.

Mulder had an extensive background in psychology, but was
better at profiling criminals than comforting children. He
looked to Scully for guidance, but saw she was also at a loss.
Her natural reaction to hold him would upset him, she knew,
but she could not stand watching passively as William wept for
everything he had lost. Gently, she sat down on the edge of the
bed and held William's hand. He did not remove it, but was lost
to his grief and did not acknowledge her presence. Trapped in a
strange room with strange people bearing the loss of everything
he had held dear, she knew the boy felt orphaned.

Scully chose her words carefully, pressing her lips together.
When she spoke, it was slow and soft, the way her own Mother
had addressed her many times. "I know you're hurting right
now, William, and that you must be very sad, but I want you to
know that Fox and I are here to help you and we're not going
anywhere." She wanted to say more, but stopped when tears
threatened her composure. She glanced at Mulder and he
nodded his agreement with what she had said.

"Just...let me alone, please?"

Scully's heart broke but she stood up, repressing her emotions
in the expert manner that had served her well all her life. "Sure,
if you need anything - we'll be in the next room."

Mulder joined her where she was standing and wrapped an arm
around her as they left the room. Once they were back in the
bunkroom, she buried her head in his chest to mute her sobs as
he held her close. How was it possible to feel such gratitude
and misery in tandem?

"We need to give him time, Dana...his entire world has been
turned upside down."

"I know...It's just so hard to see him in such pain. I want him
to know us for who we are. We've already lost so much time
with him and he thinks we're strangers. I wish there was
something I could do to comfort him. I know it was impossible
to hope for, but I just wish he could remember me. I should
have never abandoned him."

Mulder felt his heart clench with guilt looking down at the
woman he loved beyond words. He had inflicted so much pain
on her. He had to believe that everything he had done was
worth it. It was the price one had to pay to be a player. Deep
Throat's successor had attempted to make that clear to him long
ago. Even if his quest to stop Colonization had been
unsuccessful, hadn't the sacrifice been necessary to try? Now
that the Devil was at the door, he wasn't so sure.

He had asked Dana to stop several times before for the sake of
her own well-being. He had loved her enough to let her go then
though it would have devastated him. He had realized falling in
love with her was a natural and selfish act on his behalf but
never realized how vital she had become to his existence until
it was too late. Losing her now would destroy him completely.
Now that she was invested as much as he was, he couldn't ask
her again. Instead, he guided her to their improvised bed and let
her spend her sorrow in his embrace.

Much later, once he was sure she was sleeping, he carefully
extracted himself and returned to William's bedside. There
would be no easy rest for him anytime soon and he was worried
about William being able to deal with everything that had
transpired. It was his own experience losing his sister that had
marked him so deeply so many years ago, and William had just
lost his along with the people he knew as his parents under
tragic circumstances. The boy's face was hidden beneath his
pillow, but Mulder knew he was awake from the sound of his
breathing. He sat near the door bathed half in light and shadow,
away from William. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft
and low.

"I was twelve when I lost my sister. Samantha was eight. I was
watching her while my parents were at a party next-door. We
were watching TV and playing a board game. My sister and I
were fighting because she wanted to change the channel and I
wanted to watch *The Magician* that was going to be on. The
next thing I knew, there was a bright light and I was paralyzed.
I watched helplessly as she was lifted off the ground and pulled
through the window by an invisible force. By the time I could
move, I ran for my father's gun but it was too late. The
windows had shut, the lights had come back on, and I was at a
complete loss for what happened...The event devastated my
family. My parents grew apart, and we all stopped speaking to
one another for a long time..." Mulder shuddered with the
visceral angst telling the story still made him feel. "It took me
decades to come to terms with the truth that *nothing* I could
have done would have saved her."

William turned to him, bleary-eyed, and brought his head out
from under the pillow. "Did you ever find out what happened to
her?"

"Yes, but it took years. I became obsessed with finding out
what happened to her - I joined the F.B.I. so that I would have
greater tools at my disposal in my search. Eventually, I found
out that she had been taken hostage as insurance against my
Father speaking out regarding classified information he knew.
He realized this I think, but never spoke up because he was
afraid they might come after my Mother or me next. Samantha
died in 1987 years after she was abducted due to the side
effects from experiments that had been performed on her."

William sighed. "How do you know my family is gone?"

Mulder was silent, unwilling to translate the horrific images
trapped in his brain into words.

"I saw them - the man was in the field, the woman and the girl
were in the kitchen. They were gone. It was too late to help
them and there was nothing that could have been done."
Mulder schooled his expression carefully.

William watched him intently, gauging him. "But there's more
you won't say."

Mulder had turned away from his intense stare, but turned and
met William's gaze at his comment. "Having me describe the
details of their death in minute detail isn't going to help you do
anything about it. The only thing you need to focus on right
now is your recovery. Don't dwell on things you had no control
over. You'll only damage your spirit. Trust me."

William frowned and turned his head away, bitter. The
drinking glass that had been sitting on the table beside his bed
violently flew against the wall in the direction he had turned
and he stared at the shattered glass, startled. Nothing like that
had happened since he was much younger, and until now, he
had only remembered it as a dream. He was enraged when he
turned his gaze back to a shocked Mulder. "Why should I trust
you! I can tell you know a lot more than what you are telling
me and you don't understand...I have to know what happened
to them. Why are you even doing all this? I've never met you! I
mean, thanks for helping me and everything, but you can't
expect me to trust you if *you* won't tell me the truth."

Mulder sighed and looked down at the glass, then toward the
room where his partner was sleeping. He knew she wanted
William to know, and Mulder wanted him to know the truth as
well, but was this really the time? Mulder wanted Dana to be
here, but what if William reacted negatively, which was likely?
Social graces had never been his gift but he knew he couldn't
stand seeing Dana tormented. He inhaled deeply, thinking.
There would never be a "good" time. Still, it haunted him that
William had so much to work through already and he had no
way to know whether the truth or lies would hurt him more.
Though he had spent years as a professional negotiator, nothing
had prepared him for this.

"William...Will...you're right, we have been keeping you in
the dark. Chances are, you're not ready for what I need to tell
you, but you need to find out sooner or later, and I'm not sure
how long Scully and I can keep up this act. Neither one of us
enjoys lying and whether you believe me or not, I really do
want to tell you the truth." Mulder couldn't help but stare at the
glass on the floor, another part of his mind processing the
incident.

"Scully?"

"That's Dana's last name. She was my partner when we worked
together at the F.B.I. and we called each other by our last
names. I'm Mulder, she's Scully. My first name is actually Fox,
but I hate it and no one calls me that."

William's eyebrow twitched again as Mulder continued to stare
at the glass. "She did...I thought you were married."

Mulder exhaled and smiled at the irony. "And you're not the
first person who has made that assumption. We might as well
be. I asked her once but she thought I was joking and I was too,
at the time. Never got back around to it after that though maybe
I should have. Things were too dangerous." Mulder furrowed
his eyebrows, reflecting. "That sounds weird, I know...but it's
been twelve years give or take, and we worked together years
before that. I think Lord Kinbote, Buddha, and the Big Guy,
whoever, knows we're good. She's my power-of-attorney if that
counts for anything."

William eyed him warily, not sure what a power-of-attorney
was or why Mulder had the slightest of smiles etched on his
face as he watched him.

Mulder bobbed his head, nodding. "Anyway, that swarm didn't
just attack your house. Bees were spreading the virus
everywhere. Scully and I came for you because we were
concerned for your safety - you're important to us and the other
people here...for a lot of reasons..." Mulder sighed, shifted,
and pulled a folded printout from his pocket. "William, the
people you knew as your parents raised you, but they weren't
your biological parents. They adopted you when you were
barely a year old...Your birth parents gave you up when they
realized that they couldn't keep you safe from harm." Mulder
handed William the ribbon of paper before he could say
anything.

"Before you regained consciousness, the medical team here ran
blood work on all of us to check for the virus and to see if our
blood types matched in case you needed a transfusion." Mulder
pointed to a series of dashes and dots at the bottom of the page
that had been circled. "See this? Ours matched. That in itself
wouldn't be very remarkable, but what makes it special is...it's
a blood type that has never existed. We're different from
everyone else in the whole world. You and I." William was
speechless, connecting the fragments the man was giving him
to piece together.

Mulder reached for his wallet and produced a well-worn
photograph of him and Scully with a very young baby boy. It
was the last photo they made before the first time he had left
for exile and the picture had been with him ever since, one risk
he had insisted on taking. It had been a tender moment,
William wrapped soundly and sleeping in Dana's arms as she
smiled sadly at the camera for Mulder's sake, knowing he was
about to leave them both. Instead of looking directly at the
camera, Mulder had wrapped his arm around Scully's shoulders
and kissed her temple, apologizing. He reflected on the photo
momentarily before handing it to William.

"I've carried this photo everywhere with me since it was taken,
and we've both wondered about you every day since. I
remember wondering if you were walking, what your first word
was...if someone was teaching you how to hit a ball with a
stick."

William examined the photo carefully, silently. His own
parents hadn't had any photos of him as a newborn.

Mulder's next words inflected the guilt he still felt. "Your
mother has never really forgiven herself for putting you up for
adoption, even though it was the best way to protect you at the
time. I wasn't there to help her, thinking it was me they were
after," Mulder exhaled. "I thought I could protect you both if I
left, but I couldn't. They wanted to kill me, but...they wanted
you, Will. They kidnapped you once. Good people nearly died
trying to help keep you safe." Mulder felt himself becoming
emotional and took a deep breath to help himself regain
control.

"Your safety was always the most important thing to both of us
and that's why the decision was made to hide you where you
wouldn't be in danger. Scully loves you beyond words, Will,
and it's been killing her to keep those feelings hidden. I...I
love you too, and I don't want to lie to you anymore," Mulder
shook his head, staring at the wall. "It wasn't a lie when I said I
was an old friend of your mother's and that we used to work
together, but it was deceptive. I never knew the woman you
knew as your mother and I'm sorry that this has all come to
pass."

The faintest of smiles passed William's lips as he remembered.
"She never worked outside our house." Mulder nodded,
realizing his error and the trigger of William's tell.

"You're probably not sure how to react to all of this, not even
sure if you can believe it, and that's okay. You need time to
think about everything that has happened...I found out several
years ago that the man I had believed to be my father, your
namesake, actually wasn't. I had been raised as if he was and I
still think of him as my Dad...Regarding me and what place
there may be for me in your life, you'll have to make your own
decision." Mulder found the courage to meet the boy's gaze
again. "I hope I don't disappoint you. No matter what, I'm
wholly devoted to keeping you and your mother safe."

William examined Mulder closely, frowning to himself. "The
pictures...That's why you look too familiar..."

William stared again at the photo, as if he were searching for
deeper meaning, something he couldn't quite remember. "Her
eyes are blue like mine...There were these papers I had found
in my parents' safe once, but...Well, you could make it all up,
too, I guess..." He handed the photo back to Mulder and laid
back, covering his eyes as he winced. "I feel weird."

Mulder stood up and pulled William's hand down so he could
look closer at his eyes. "What's wrong? Should I get Scully?
She's a doctor."

"No...I'm just starting to get one of my headaches, it's okay. A
doctor? I thought you said you were F.B.I. agents."

"I'd get you something, but they have you on all these different
medications so I have to ask her. Actually, she earned a
medical degree before she entered the service. She became a
specialist in brain diseases and disorders after she left."

"What about you?"

Mulder placed a palm on the boy's forehead, unsure if he could
detect a fever or not. "I did my doctorate work in psychology.
Before I started working on the X-Files, I did psychological
profiles of serial criminals in the V.C.U. - Violent Crimes."

"So she's a doctor and you're a shrink? That's funny, I always
thought F.B.I. agents were just cops."

Mulder smiled, shrugged, and moved toward the door. Scully
needed to know about this headache, especially if William had
a history of migraines. His own theory regarding their origin
was beginning to form in his mind.

"Don't wake her up. Just turn off the lights and let me lie here a
while. Sometimes they go away if I do that."

"Is there anything you need before I go?"

"No. Just, uh...I don't know if I believe all of it, but thanks for
telling me all that."

Mulder nodded and switched off the light that hung above his
bed.

"Goodnight, Will."

"Goodnight..."