Redemption (14/26) 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. ------------------------------------------------------------------ XIV ------------------------------------------------------------------ "Well, then, I hate thee, Unrighteous Picture; Wicked Image, I hate thee; So, strike with thy vengeance The heads of those little men Who come blindly. It will be a brave thing." - Stephen Crane, XII ------------------------------------------------------------------ They had taken to talking through the night long ago, finding that it helped with the sleepless nights they both encountered and helped pass the long hours when one or both of them were feeling restless. Scully had once been a sound sleeper, but she had become as familiar with insomnia as her partner through the years. Her patients had helped her belay the guilt she often felt late at night, but they also plagued her with their own desperate situations. They were often incurable and hopeless, as helpless as she often felt late at night thinking of all the things in the past she wished she could rectify. Now her patients were gone, her lost son returned, and a new world of problems ate at her. Watching Mulder's chest rise and fall, she thought of all the times she had nearly lost him in the past. His body bore too many scars just as hers did. Her thoughts turned to the prospect they had of losing their son once again and how she would fight to prevent that even if it meant expelling her last breath. Mulder watched her in the dark, facing her where they lay side by side on their mattresses. He reached out and tentatively stroked her arm. "I can hear you thinking." Her continued silence bothered him. "Scully?" She met his eyes acknowledging him, but got up and left the room without making a sound. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The dim reading light attached to William's bunk illuminated his restful features in an otherworldly way that reminded Scully's of Emily at her funeral. She didn't like it, the similar way his still features appeared lifeless or how she just noticed how much they looked alike from this angle. A fierce wave of protectiveness for him washed over her and she suppressed the urge to shake him awake for her benefit. Mulder couldn't resist the urge to follow long and he found her leaning against the boy's bedroom doorway. His hand on her shoulder invited her back to bed, but she clasped his hand and invited him instead to stand with her. ------------------------------------------------------------------ William woke to the smell of coffee and found them both seated at the kitchen table. They had been rationing what was left of their supply, so it surprised him to see a whole pot made and sitting between them. Mulder was furiously scribbling something for Scully and they were both so intent on it that they hadn't noticed him enter the room. He loved the dark aroma of the beverage and how it lingered into his room in the mornings. Caffeine had been a foreign concept at home, but there was something comforting to him now about the smell of coffee in the dark. It reassured him he wasn't alone and reminded him that people cared about him. The liquid powered Mulder and Scully to work long hours and while William's parents had been no stranger to long days on their ranch; he was amazed nonetheless by what he perceived to be its magical properties. "Can I try some?" He watched Scully's eyes meet Mulder's over the table once they realized he had joined him. They argued silently a moment, and their nonverbal language confused William who had trouble deciphering some of it. Scully eyed Mulder disapprovingly before she relented. "Alright, but only one cup." Mulder nodded in consent as retrieved a clean mug for Will and filled it. "Hope you like it black." Mulder's personal hoard of sugar had run out the week prior. Slipping into his customary seat at the table, Will accepted the steaming mug eagerly, savoring the aroma long before he brought the cup slowly to his lips after blowing on it to cool. Scully couldn't help but laugh when William ran and spit out the small sip he had taken into the sink. Her gamble had paid off. Mulder furrowed his brow, unsure how any spawn of his could not love coffee. "You don't like it?" William looked at the cup like it had betrayed him before he set it beside the sink. "How can something smell that great but taste so nasty? Ugh!" "It's an acquired taste," Mulder began to explain. "It tastes like gasoline," William declared. "And it's going to be just as rare, so don't get hooked." Scully shared a poignant look with her partner before retrieving the cup from the sink. Lesson learned. "Hey!" William didn't want the coffee, but he thought he might like to try it again later. "Hey," Mulder interceded, "She brought you into this world and if she wants to drink-" Their banter was cut short by the dedicated walkie that set on Mulder's nightstand. Its recognizable tune sent a wave of dread through Mulder as he momentarily ignored it, staring at Dana and Will. A thousand brief thoughts passed through his mind before he reached for the device. He didn't want to leave them. "Mulder," Skinner greeted him. "What's happened?" "The recon team isn't reporting back in, I need you here pronto ...he still wants to send you guys out. I'm to tell you the Over wants you in his office ASAP." "I'm on my way." Mulder shut the talkie off and absently moved to grab his pack from the closet nearest the door. "What is it?" Scully asked. "Time," Mulder said, casting her a forlorn look. He was searching for his photo but it wasn't where it was supposed to be. "Time? It's not supposed to be time." "I know." Scully's face briefly twisted. "Don't go, Mulder. They're using you." "This is what I signed on to do, Scully. I won't be gone long and then we'll get out of here." "It's a setup, Mulder, don't fall for it. You're doing exactly what he wants you to do." "Remember the hospital when I came to get you? You stayed there how long working on those patients, even though you knew they had no hope. You would have stayed there until you dropped." "I left them to go with you," Scully asserted. "Only once you understood there was nothing more you could do," Mulder paused, wishing she would understand why he couldn't abandon his men so easily. "You'd do the same thing, Scully. Don't forget what I said." Moving quickly, he hugged William long and hard before the boy could protest. "Look after your Mother. Look after yourself." William nodded at Mulder, feeling upset, having difficulty understanding. "Please don't go," he attempted, shaking his head, bordering on tears. "Sorry, bud..."Mulder felt terrible looking into William's eyes as he drew back. "I have to go do this, but I'll see you again soon." Scully regarded him coolly and moved to help him with his pack, saying nothing. Her face was a shield barely masking how upset she was with him. "I'll be fine. I'll be back, Scully. I prom-." "No promises," Scully cut him off sharply, "Just go, Mulder. We'll be here." Mulder wanted to move to her, to embrace her, but stood awkwardly before Scully, sad they would part like this. "I'm sorry," he said, turning and leaving. Will watched Scully hang her head a moment once Mulder had left, breathing slowly. Then she regained her composure and looked him over. "Will, I want you to go pack the bag Byers brought you. I think we're going to need to move sooner than we thought. Keep it light and I'll come help you in a few minutes." Returning to his room, he had just shut his door when he heard Scully's fists crash down on the countertop. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mulder's legs burned from running. He felt like he was breathing acid and the filter he was breathing through left him feeling overexerted. He paused to drink but moved quickly as soon as the water slipped down his throat. The Overseer had pulled him from his mission and left his men to fend for themselves. Mulder had been assigned instead to find out where the headwaters of their water intake slipped below the surface and how to install a filter that would keep the majority of debris clear of coming through with it. He had agreed to solve the problem if the Overseer gave him twenty-four hours on the others, and while unhappy, he had relented. Moving as he had never moved in his life, Mulder located the water intakes and built a makeshift sediment filter for each the water would pass through before slipping beneath the surface. He had been moving since with several hours to spare courtesy of the bike he had borrowed from the base, solely focused on the men he was supposed to have been commanding and reaching their coordinates before they did. The bike had given out several miles back however, and now Mulder was left to cover the remaining distance on his own. He hadn't been able to believe the order for the attack had stood after the loss of the reconnaissance team, but the Overseer had called it a rescue mission and knew the team would be eager to deploy in light of losing their friends. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mounting a hill approaching the team's coordinates, Mulder spotted the still burning wreckage of the vehicle his troops had deployed in as he fell to his knees, stomach lurching. The Overseer had lied and deployed them while he was gone. With the ash still darkening the sky and limiting visibility, he had been right up to the remains before spotting the split body of the sniper, Dean. Michael. He was badly burned and hardly recognizable but Mulder knew him. He had a bad feeling he would find all the others and read their tags one by one as he made his way toward the collapsing, burning building. Adrenaline pumping, he tried to piece what had transpired as he moved forward, crouched and ready to open fire. The building was ablaze but no one fired at him. Mulder searched for tire marks but saw none. Finally approaching the building despite his fear, Mulder noticed how empty it appeared. The clones operating the facility had fled, but where? He made his way back to the wrecked carnage of the truck. Drinking water as he looked over the ruin before him, a new scenario began to form in his mind. Colonists using the same opportunity the Overseer had perceived to take the bunker for their own, giving them a safe haven from the ash still falling from the sky. His thoughts turned to Dana and Will and the chance he was already too late if his assumption turned out to be correct. With an audible groan he turned, running toward the bunker. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The attack on the bunker had come during the night after Mulder left. Will, Dana, and Kevin climbed stoically through the off and on drafts of gas that were being pumped in below, vision blurring with tears. Following below were Rachel, Skinner, and the Gunmen. They were all moving as fast as they could, but the handholds were difficult to navigate and they were moving slowly, coughing as they hauled their heavy packs. A sudden shifted pitch in tone from the base's siren system below filled Skinner with dread. "You've got to move faster, Will," he shouted over the weapon fire and screaming sounding from below. "That's the self-destruct!" "Why the hell would they do that," Langly hollered from below. "Just go!" Skinner urged. "The base is going to blow inside out!" They moved at a frenzied pace but it wasn't long until the first explosions began tearing the base apart from within beneath them. Will was a short distance from the tunnel that would lead them outside when a large chunk of rock broke free from the ceiling and crashed through the air just behind them causing them to hug the wall. "Go! Go! Go!" Skinner screamed as they continued upward. Scully pulled herself up onto the final ledge behind William just in time to see the explosion that sealed the tunnel before them. Hugging William fiercely and dropping to the ground, she tried to protect him from the cloud of dust and ash that enveloped them from the falling rock and crumbling walls. "Are you okay?" Byers called up. "What happened?" Coughing and sputtering on the dust that had invaded her nose and throat, she fought the urge as she released William to rub her eyes. She had managed to shield him but had not bowed her head in time to keep the dust out of her own eyes and airways. Keeping her eyes shut, she felt for a place to sit as coughs wracked her body. Scully coughed to clear her throat and it burned. "Water," she instructed Will. "Quick." When she heard him locate it, she leaned her head back and put her hand out for the bottle. She was on the verge of panic, but forced herself to remain calm as she tilted and began squirting the liquid into her eyes, nose, and mouth to clean them, spitting without apology once she gargled. "What are you doing?" Will asked, feeling helpless. "Find more," she told him, blinking past the pain, sputtering. Behind them, the others were still coming over the ledge. "What happened? Are you okay?" Skinner asked, rushing to her side. She squinted slowly up at him, ash and dust streaking down her cheeks as she blinked, "Did I get it all?" "Almost," Skinner said, removing a flashlight from his belt and shining it in her bloodshot eyes. He used his own water bottle to help her clean the rest he could see before handing it to her to gargle. "You burst a few blood vessels. Are you able to see okay?" The others were already retrieving air filters from their packs and putting them on. Very little light was penetrating from the outside now and Frohike took a flashlight from his pack to shine at the blockage. Loud explosions and rumbling continued below them and faint wisps of teargas now mingled with waves of acrid smoke as it searched for passage to the surface. "Holy shit." The entire twenty-five ton steel blast door barring their passage to the outside world now stood behind a wall of fallen boulders and debris.