Redemption (13/26) 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. ------------------------------------------------------------------ XIII ------------------------------------------------------------------ "Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky And the affrighted steed ran on alone, Do not weep. War is kind." - Stephen Crane, War Is Kind ------------------------------------------------------------------ It was late when Mulder, Scully, and William returned to their quarters. A deep unsettling paranoia had overcome Mulder and he spent an hour searching their rooms for monitoring devices. Scully sat with William on his bed as they listened to Mulder crash around. This bedtime ritual had become unnecessary since William no longer needed the daily injections, but Scully was creative at finding excuses to visit him before he fell asleep and the boy did not protest. The truth was that he liked Scully despite himself. He was growing more attached to the woman than he wanted to or cared to admit. He still thought of his old family often, but he knew that his parents would have wanted him to survive if he could find a way. If that meant joining his Godparents, he thought his mother, father, and sister would approve. "How are you holding up?" Scully's direct question knocked William out of his reverie and he looked at her, caught unaware. "I'm fine." William stared at the ceiling, soundlessly. "I'm familiar with that line," Scully responded, running his hand over his hair, smoothing it back. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," she continued, "I just hope you feel you can talk to me and know that I'm here if you want to." William nodded. He wanted to stay silent, but had also been desperate to talk to someone about everything he had witnessed. She had just given him permission and the thoughts he'd been lingering on began to slip out faster than he could contain them. "I miss them...a lot." "Your family?" Scully prompted. William nodded. "Gibson too, all the other people I knew. I can't believe that they're all gone. I couldn't save my sister, and I was supposed to protect her...Why did I survive when no one else did?" "You're not responsible for any of their deaths, William. I hope you can feel that's the truth. You survived because you had a level of resistance to the virus that everyone else didn't. I had been exposed to it long before you were born. We were fortunate to get to you when we did." "I miss being outside, too. Sometimes, I feel like the walls are going to collapse or the ceiling is going to fall down, or that all of this will collapse and crush us inside it. Just thinking about everything, I wish I could be up top with the sun on my face." Scully couldn't argue with that. She felt the same thing. "Are you claustrophobic?" "No, but I don't like being this far underground. It's like living in a mine." "You're right, it is. I'm not a big fan of it myself, but you know why we're here." "We're hiding from them because they'll kill us if they find us." "Yes, that's why." "But we can't stay here any longer because the Overseer wants to use me to control you and Mulder, and Mulder's getting sick." "Right." Despite his best attempts to stay in control of everything he was feeling, William felt himself tearing up and turned on his side away from Scully so she wouldn't see. "What's going to happen to us?" "I don't know, baby, but whatever it is, we're all going to face it together. It's okay...come here." Sitting up, William turned to her no longer hiding his tears. She hugged him against her shoulder, inviting him to grieve as she rubbed his back. She regretted that William had experienced so much loss in his young life, resented that she could do nothing except comfort him as he dealt with the pain. When Mulder appeared silhouetted in the doorway later, Scully gently helped her sleeping son lay down, kissed his forehead and joined Mulder. Neither of them slept very comfortably and no words were spoken between them. They both knew what they were thinking about. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mulder stared at the digital clock adorning the wall in their small room. It was just after six a.m. He had lain awake most of the night pondering their escape and his foolish belief that he would be able to keep Scully and William safe. Tucking the covers he evaded around Scully, he changed and headed to Skinner's. He didn't think the older man would be awake, but Mulder needed to speak with him. ------------------------------------------------------------------ When Mulder hadn't received a reply outside Skinner's quarters, he headed down to the isolation unit where the young girl they had rescued was contained. Resting outside the medical chamber where Rachel lay, Skinner sat half-asleep against the wall. He looked at Mulder groggily as he entered the room. "I thought I might find you here. How is she?" "She doesn't need to be here. She's not sick. They're more concerned with why she doesn't have it." "That is a good question." "It's in her DNA like yours. She has the marks on her neck, too." "The bumps?" "Yeah. I know your experience came about through your abduction, your repeated exposure to the Purity virus...but how does a young girl show the same type of transformation?" Mulder silently thought a while before responding. "There was a series of experiments aimed at producing an organic supersoldier. One involved chloramines being manipulated and spiked into drinking water throughout the D.C. area. When pregnant women who had been abducted were exposed to this chemical, their children were altered." "I think I remember the report. You think she's one of those babies?" Mulder nodded, still thinking. "She'd be the right age." "They don't want her here." "She was helpless out there." "They don't care. That's not how they see it." Mulder produced a worn notepad from his pocket and scribbled quickly. *We'll take her with us then.* Skinner nodded. He had planned as much. Motioning to Mulder, he took the notepad and wrote discreetly. *Figure out how.* It was in this manner they joined the Gunmen in their quarters for early morning coffee and set to discovering how they would excuse themselves from the Greenbrier bunker. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Skinner received the official order to prepare Mulder's phase shortly after eight and Mulder had his men convened in a lower training area by ten. The men were confused as to why they were mobilized early. Above them in an adjacent training hall, another man was in charge of a smaller scout unit preparing them to do reconnaissance ahead of Mulder's mission. Mulder was sure those men had to be more pissed off than his own. Mulder could read it on their faces. His own men said nothing but sat watching him expectantly awaiting his orders. They still regarded Mulder with suspicion and awe. Originally, it had only been suspicion, but once Mulder broke another man's arm on accident while training, they saw he possessed an unnatural strength they did not understand. The man whose arm had been permanently disfigured had become a kitchen cook after the incident and Mulder hadn't ate for a week. Most of the men in Mulder's unit were ex-military with a few backwoods conspiracy theorist crack shots for good measure. The group dynamic had always been grim; these were the men who wanted to take a few down with them and happened to be the best shots with death wishes. Mulder used the remote to power a large projector mounted above him. PowerPoint held nothing on slides, but he had to take what he could get. As soon as the bulb warmed, a large map appeared on the blank wall behind him. "What was once Summerville lies sixty-five miles to the northwest. Our objective is a large cloning facility near Summersville Lake. The unit operated under the cover of a fish hatchery." Mulder advanced the slide to an exterior view of the building. A few of the men snickered. "Shortly to review, these clones are alien-human hybrids, programmed drones created to carry out operations where the Colonists themselves cannot travel. Magnetite-shielded areas such as our own base and the surrounding countryside. Units similar to the one at Summerville have been detected at the edges of such protected fields. By destroying it, we help protect our facility. They can easily land forces via air outside the protected zone, but they haven't been willing to do so yet. It may not be long in coming, however, so the Overseer has decided to up the timeline for our strikes. Have your gear ready. Check and proof your weapons. Once the reconnaissance mission reports back, you will receive detailed targets and we will be set loose. All other procedures and plans remain intact with added guidelines for experiencing airborne particulate matter, so go back to your notes and review. You'll have the opportunity to ask questions once we know more. That's all. Dismissed." The reconnaissance team left at two that afternoon. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mulder dutifully prepared his gear and spent a noticeable amount of time in the firing range before joining Skinner and the Gunmen that evening outside an air intake a short way from the cavernous vertical garden. Langly had taken care to loop the security monitors before they met and Mulder shook his head at his friends in their black tactical outfits. Some things would never change. "*Funky* poaching. Not obvious at all, gentlemen." "We always wear this when we're working on the lines," Frohike quipped. "Professional dress," Langly added as if it was gospel. "I tried to tell them," Byers stated simply. Mulder examined the braided Ethernet cables the Gunmen had twisted into rope looped heavily around his torso. "This is clever. What's the carrying capacity?" "Enough," Byers answered simply. He was warily examining the claustrophobic tunnel they were about to climb into. Mulder imagined his friends testing the cable in their cramped apartment and didn't want to know what method they used to come to that conclusion. As Skinner lifted the grate, Mulder climbed cautiously into the dusty tunnel before the others joined him. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The climb was long and dirty. Mulder wiped his watering eyes as they emerged at the edge of a larger vertical tunnel. They were now above the enormous cavern that housed the garden and reservoir. Through the grate in the distance, he could hear the water rushing and see the dim lights that lit the complex at night. While few people moved through the area during the evening, they would need to remain aware of how much noise they made. "All right, what do I need to do with this?" Mulder could see how far the vertical tunnel stretched above them before branching off horizontally. He stretched his back in anticipation of the discomfort he knew the night's activities would lead to, trying to ignore the now-constant ache in his joints. "You play Batman, and we come behind with these." Frohike produced a large bolt tied to looped cables. The spikes would later serve as hand and foot holds. Skinner tested a silenced drill behind them briefly. "Does that make you Robin or Catwoman?" Mulder quipped, looking up again with despair. "Maybe the Joker, at that." This looked dangerous. No wonder he had been nominated. The tunnel they stood beside had to stretch fifty feet high. He wondered what it would feel like to impact with the grate below, if it would give from his weight smashing into it at an accelerated rate of speed or just cube him like a vegetable slicer. "Get me some light, Langly." Flashlights were taped to illuminate the path Mulder needed to run the rope. Carefully, Mulder stretched. Reaching out, he spanned the distance across the open tower and placed his palms far apart on the opposite side. He was grateful that his boots still had plenty of tread left on them because he was going to need it. Raising a leg, he levered his weight between the sides and began to climb slowly. It was going to be a long night. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Five hundred feet above and exhausted, Mulder smelled spring and charred wood. It was a minor comfort as Skinner watched him bend over before climbing yet another vertical tower. The others had taken turns in teams staying behind to run the spikes that would support their final climb later when they had more equipment. Byers diligently drilled below them supported by Mulder's latest attachment. Mulder desperately wanted to be finished for the night. His knees and elbows were screaming, but he knew they were close now and the desire to have their evacuation route complete pending tomorrow's bunker-related suicide outweighed his need for a warm shower and limb amputation. "Feel like James Bond?" Skinner asked, resting as he leaned his head back against the wall. Mulder smiled, knowing his friend would not realize why. *'If wishes were horses.'* "What are you talking about, Skinman? I am Bond," Mulder reiterated, grinning once he looked up and realized a pipe leading out of the wall would make his ascent much easier through this part of the route. Skinner refused to watch as his friend climbed a bit too nimbly, a bit too quickly to appear human. "You're a lucky son-of-a-bitch is what you are," Skinner clarified, wishing he could take a nap. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The final two hundred feet had been the roughest. The outside was close enough to feel and Mulder wished he could watch for the sun as he anchored the last stretch of cord near a grate that separated the largest air-intake from the surface. The others rested, exhausted, in the last horizontal stretch fifty feet below while he completed the task and clambered into the bored tunnel that led to an embedded thick blast door. The outside decimation of what used to be West Virginia waited on the other side. He laughed aloud noticing a fire extinguisher that had been posted on the wall long, long ago, a forgotten relic of the Cold War from decades past. It wouldn't be doing anyone any good any time soon. He dumped everything he didn't want to carry on the journey back down. No point in packing anything if he would be coming out this way within the next few days. He briefly contemplated leaving his rock hammer but had the good fortune to need to drive spikes on his way down since the others were now too tired to move. It was past four a.m. when they began the long descent back down into the bunker, their escape route finally functional. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Scully helped him remove the dust from his hair in the shower once he returned. They were cramped in the small space but she continued, massaging the muscles in his shoulders and neck as he leaned against the wall exhausted, showing him how much she appreciated him even as she appreciated his ass. In languid tones, Mulder assured her the feeling was mutual. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mulder pinned Scully against the door before she could flee the tiny bathroom once they dried off and she had donned her robe, boxing her in. "Listen Scully, if I don't come back, I want you to get out of here with William. Go with Skinner and get as far away as you can North. Find some other group of survivors and some-" "Don't even start with talk like that." She tilted up and silenced him with her lips, knowing it was one method he wouldn't protest. The kiss lingered and threatened to reignite their passions but Mulder forced himself to focus, breakaway, and continue. "Listen to me, Scully. Don't come after me, whatever you do. If I'm out there and you go, I'll find you, but promise me you won't come looking for me." Scully looked at him as if he had broken a promise, but said nothing.