Redemption (20/26) 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. ------------------------------------------------------------------ XX ------------------------------------------------------------------ "And I may be obliged to defend Every love, every ending Or maybe there's no obligations now Maybe I've a reason to believe We all will be received in Graceland" - Paul Simon, Graceland ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mulder felt the word before he heard Will utter, "They're cannibals." "Get inside and warn the others, then get in the van and put on your vest," Mulder told Will in a hurried whisper. "How far off are they? Can you tell how many?" William paused and focused again as he was turning for the small office some of the others were sleeping in. "A lot. Won't be long." Mulder was already on his feet, flipping over a picnic table near the van. He smacked his hand on the back door to alert the Gunmen, who were sleeping inside. "Wake up, we're getting company." Langly threw open the back door. "Dude, do we have time to bail?" Mulder shrugged. The snap of a branch from near the road they had traveled in on told him otherwise as he ducked by the table. "I don't think so." Frohike found himself pushing past Langly and Mulder with his rifle as he exited the van. "They decided to mess with the wrong badass." He hunkered down behind the overturned table beside Mulder and flashed the inside of his vest, which held a series of makeshift incendiaries. "I know kung-foo." Mulder's eyebrows peaked. "How long have you been carrying those around?" Kryder burst out the door of the ranger station followed by Scully and the others. Scully ushered Will and Rachel into the van before she hunkered down by Mulder's left side and checked her weapon. "What's the plan?" Mulder was the only one facing in the right direction to see the Molotov cocktail ignite as it came arcing toward the ranger station from the forest. "Everybody get down!" he yelled. Grabbing Scully by the arms, he spun as he pulled her so he could shield her between himself and the table. The jar exploded once it hit the roof of the station and the marsh surrounding the party lit up in brightly reflected shades of orange and amber. Releasing Scully, Mulder unleashed a quick barrage of gunfire toward the direction the item had come from before Kryder did the same near the front of the vehicle. He couldn't tell if he hit anyone but a rapport of gunfire responded. He ducked back behind the others between the van and the barricade. A man's screams erupted from the swamp in front of them as several other men dimly came into view charging and crawling toward them with rifles and clubs. Scully picked a few off deftly from her protected position behind the table as Kryder slid up from beside the hood. Frohike had a Machiavellian gleam in his eye as he tossed a few of his improvised grenades toward approaching figures. Mulder turned when he heard Will's rifle crack from the driver's side window and slipped around the side of the van. "What the hell are you doing? Get inside!" he barked, but Will was undeterred. Another man screamed in the distance. "I can zero in on them," Will said. "They want us alive. Watch out!" Distracted by Will, Mulder hadn't seen the men running full-tilt toward him until one was swinging a bat at Mulder's head. Spinning, Mulder caved in the man's face with the butt of his rifle before he fell, catching the other who had launched himself toward Mulder's back wielding a knife. Rolling with the would-be assassin over the ground, Mulder pinned him when he had the advantage and pounded the man's arm against the ground until he lost his grip on his blade. Coolly, he grabbed the sides of the man's head and twisted it violently until he heard the distinct snap of the man's neck. Grabbing his weapon as he stood, Mulder opened the door to push Will back and climbed in. "I told you to get inside," Mulder barked. "Now do as I say and get everyone else!" "Shit, how many are there," Langly shouted as he opened a spotlight to blind the approaching front. Byers crouched beside him and fumbled with his weapon. One of Frohike's explosives detonated, lighting up a group of men as it dealt severe damage. He lobbed another overhand as far as he could in the same direction. "Alamo, assholes!" Skinner shouted when he heard a few of his rounds meet targets. He shot in short bursts, aiming for whoever was coming closest. Just when Skinner thought they might have the edge over the wave coming from the woods, he spotted another over his shoulder emerging from the road they had traveled back to the location. "They're boxing us in!" "We need to move," Kryder yelled. "We're going to be overwhelmed. We're sitting ducks!" A slew of bullets cut into the ground in front of them. "Byers, get inside and gun the engines, we'll lay down cover," Skinner shouted. Byers didn't hesitate before he climbed in the back of the van, scrambling for the front. The light of the fires had him blind in the dark and he groped blindly ahead so he wouldn't trample on either of the children in his mad dash toward the driver's seat. "There's too many!" Scully screamed, reloading her clip frantically as she crouched. "Mulder!" Scrambling backwards, Will felt his head crack off something hard even as he tried to sideslip and felt himself reel back as Byers groaned post-impact. "William? You okay?" A blood-curdling scream from the marshes stole Skinner's breath as he ducked beside Scully reloading his clip. There was a sound of ripping flesh and mad skittering as some of the other approaching men began to scream. Kryder couldn't tell what the men from the rear were screaming about but he knew he didn't want to find out. He could tell it wasn't because they were being shot at. "Kryder, get inside, go!" Skinner barked at him, but he motioned for Scully to go first. "Scully, I'll cover, get inside!" A canister of teargas had detonated near the smashed table and was making it difficult to focus. Scully flashed him a petulant look. Now was not the time for valor, but she climbed quickly into the back. Frohike yelled when he lobbed another grenade toward a man approaching on a horse. "Get in, Langly!" Langly climbed in next just as the engines revved inside. Another spray of gunfire erupted from the driver's side in front of him as Mulder tried to clear the men moving through their exit, trying to disable the vehicle. "Go Frohike, I've got this," Skinner said. He had assumed Scully's position closer to the table while laying cover over the rim. "Take the rest of those up front." Unsheathing his handgun, Frohike spun away and scrambled for the passenger seat. "Get inside!" Mulder screamed. Feeling blindly behind him as he fired from the hip, Skinner felt a biting sensation that helped propel his torso into the vehicle. Langly had him under the arms even as the vehicle began to drag him forward. The younger man wedged his feet against the back corner as the larger man's weight threatened to pull him out. "Push back, Walter!" A hard bump lifted the man enough for Byers to help pull him inside just as Frohike slammed his own door shut up front. Gunning the gas, Mulder drove straight toward the group of men which were now fleeing down the road. He didn't see the man on the horse riding up beside his flank. Frohike was yelling they had to move faster, but then fell silent when a massive pincher skewered a man and lifted him back into the shadows. "What the hell was that?!" Two things happened then simultaneously. The man on the horse shot at the driver of the vehicle and Mulder plowed the van into a trio of individuals who hadn't made it out of the way. The smashing glass of the driver's window sprayed inward as Mulder's hand slipped from the gearshift that slipped the van into its lowest gear. He felt his head bounce off the driver's wheel as the van accelerated over the men's bodies. It suddenly became very difficult to focus driving forward as he felt blood pouring into his eyes, threatening his vision, which had grown dim. He had to focus! Through a haze in the distance, he heard Frohike yell for him to accelerate. The van lurched forward toward the road and Mulder made no attempt to avoid the men running away from the area they had just destroyed. He was feeling very tired. Distantly, he felt Frohike grip the steering wheel beside his hands as his head came to rest on his shoulder. He couldn't be sure if it was him or Frohike who was babbling incoherently. "Mulder's shot!" Frohike wailed. "Can you hear me, buddy?" He nudged Mulder's head with his own as he tried to keep them moving away from the commotion behind. "Mulder!" "Mulder?" Scully called. She was attending to Skinner behind him, blocking the entrance of his chest wound as Kryder furiously cut at a sheet of thin plastic. "Mulder, if you can hear me, whatever you do, buddy, don't let up on the gas, hear me? We have to keep going until we're someplace safer." There was the sensation of motion and sound, but Mulder felt himself disconnecting from everything even as he fought for consciousness. He had to hold on. He had to hold on for ------------------------------------------------------------------ *"Mulder, it's me." Mulder awoke as time stood still and realized immediately he was hallucinating. "Scully?" He closed his eyes and tried to wake up but could not. "I'm tired." He winced at the blinding lights that were shining into the van on him past his frozen friends as Scully's disembodied voice continued urgently. Moving his hand to his forehead, he was briefly disturbed by what he felt. "No, Mulder, you must get up. You must get up and fight... especially you. This isn't your place. Get up, Mulder. Get up and fight the fight." The lights shining on Mulder were clearer now. Scully had told him this before. It was important, though he struggled to remember why. The people before him were the spirits of the dead he knew. Bill Mulder was staring at him past the hood, as were his Mother and Samantha. Melissa Scully stood just beyond them with the rest of her family. Emily watched him stoically poised beneath Melissa's resting hands. "Our deaths cannot be in vain," she told him. Behind her stood many others, players from his past and from the years he spent on the X-Files. Albert Hosteen was outside his smashed window on a white horse. "Naayéé neizghání. Monster Slayer, I call you. The desire to return must burn brightly or you will remain here, with us." Mulder looked at Samantha and his parents, but then his thoughts returned to Scully, William, and their friends. "Go to them now," Albert said, nodding. "They are waiting for you. So are the monsters."* ------------------------------------------------------------------ "He's back," William said. "Oh, Mulder." Scully was holding his head in her hands, trying to focus her eyes in the dark. She watched with alarm and fascination as the gaping wound folded in on itself and reformed new flesh to close. She could barely believe it. The wound would have proved fatal under normal circumstances. In front of them, Frohike worked desperately to keep them from wrecking as they neared the turn-off onto the highway. "Okay, let up, Mulder!" Mulder groaned as he opened his eyes, his vision swimming before him in shades of red. "Scully..." "It's me. I'm here. Right here," she whispered in his ear. "Wake up. Take your foot off the gas." Slowly, deliberately, Mulder moved his foot from the gas to the brake and brought them to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. Frohike slammed the gearshift into park position and was out of the van in an instant. "Langly, come help me move him." He moved quickly, scanning for the man who had shot Mulder or for anyone else that might be following them. Byers was holding the light above Skinner in the back of the van that lit his pale features. "He's losing a lot of blood." "Hang on, Skinman," Langly said in passing as he bolted out the back. Between the two of them, Langly and Frohike helped Mulder into the back of the van and Langly ran back to take over the wheel. "Need some mad map voodoo, Byers!" Byers handed Rachel the light he was holding and turned on his headlamp as he searched for his bag. "Just a minute." He found it and climbed up carefully into the passenger seat Frohike had abandoned. "Don't be choosy," Kryder implored. If they didn't stop soon, the older man was going to bleed out. "Just find someplace intact if you can...and fast." ------------------------------------------------------------------ GRACELAND Memphis, Tennessee February 28th, 2013 6:36 a.m. Their early arrival at the non-descript building in the pre-dawn hours was touch and go as she and Kryder attempted placing a chest tube to help Skinner breathe without doing any additional damage to his injuries. Besides the indications of entry and exit wound, without imaging equipment Scully could not be sure how extensive any interior damage might be. She honestly thought they might lose him through the morning, but he seemed to be gaining back some color after Kryder had volunteered a transfusion. The young soldier was a universal donor and she thanked God for the convenience. It had likely saved their former superior's life, if only for the moment. Pneumonia and infection would be very real concerns as they moved forward, especially since they would need to be moving soon. Despite the lack of complications so far, she did not delude herself as to her technique as a thoracic surgeon. It was beyond her scope and if Skinner wound up needing surgery, he would likely die. Mulder followed her outside a few minutes after she left to change. She had removed her jacket and was washing with a soaped sponge, facing away from him. "You shouldn't be outside by yourself." Scully audibly exhaled, too absorbed in her own thoughts to listen to what Mulder had said. "What were those things, Mulder? What had those men so frightened?" "I wish I knew," he told her. "My recollection of the whole night is a bit hazy." He scratched his head where the skin was still new and slightly itchy. "I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, but that bullet should have killed you. It's unnatural." "It's not the first time a bullet should have rid you of me." Unfazed, Mulder moved closer, taking his flashlight out of his vest. "Scully, you're bleeding." "Don't phrase it that way. Where?" she asked, turning. Mulder placed his hand on Scully's right side as he shined the light just above her ribs. "This is fresh. There's a hole in your sweater. You weren't shot, we're you?" His voice raised in alarm. "Dana, this is a lot of blood." "No, no, don't overreact. I would have felt it. I'm fine." Mulder was already pulling her top up, pushing her probing hand away so he could see. A dark purple bruise had formed around the puncture wound that was already puckering as it shrunk. He made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. "It's true, then." "What? Tell me." Scully's eyes were full of apprehension when they met Mulder's. "I just confirmed something I've suspected for a very long time...I'm not the only X-File here." Scully sighed, slightly scared. "Goddammit Mulder, just tell me what you see." Mulder retrieved Scully's jacket from the ground and shined his flashlight through the hole he found in the side at Scully. "Either something hit you or you were shot, but you're already practically healed. You really don't feel anything there?" "No," Scully dismissed him while feeling at the puncture mark, shaking her head. "A piece of shrapnel, maybe." Mulder could barely mask the awe in his expression. "Fenig did save you...You've got to admit, the years have been exceptionally kind to you." Scully closed her eyes as she bowed her head. "No, Mulder, I can't accept that. Just...stop." Mulder had trouble deciphering his partner's body language and felt confused. He couldn't just let it go. "Why not? Would you rather be dead?" "Of course not," she replied with a sigh. Mulder held out his hand for the sponge and she obliged. She could hear him waiting for her to qualify her response as he moved behind her and began to carefully wash the area surrounding the wound. "I just can't accept that we won't ever die," she admitted. "I want to believe that there's more to life than this, a natural progression that all things follow. I've already outlived one of my children, Mulder, and I don't even want to imagine..." Mulder didn't know what to say at his partner's revelation. "Where's your patch kit?" ------------------------------------------------------------------ They had been holed up in the storage warehouse for nearly four days and Scully was beginning to feel antsy. Kryder and the Gunmen had scouted the bridges leading west out of the city on foot the day before, seeing they were destroyed as they had suspected they might be. The only course for them would lead them south parallel to the Mississippi river. They had moved quickly and quietly, unnerved by the silence of the urban environment. Fully recovered now, Mulder was leading point as he moved with William and the Gunmen through the ruins of Graceland. The destroyed mansion was not the campy tourist trap he remembered from his journey there so many years ago and certainly lacked the romance and nostalgia he had hoped to one day share with his son. The ruined fountain before them let Mulder know they had reached the Meditation Garden, where Elvis and a few of his family members were laid to eternal rest. Mulder had liked this part of the tour most on his vacation as it felt the most authentic, a little less plastic and more meaningful than the constructed images in the rest of the mansion some public relations flunky had pieced together for public consumption. The ash-coated artificial flower arrangements before them reminded Mulder sharply of the intrinsic irony in his nostalgia. If mankind somehow survived, these plastic and meaningless things would be the artifacts left for future generations to remember them by. He was never quite sure why he had such a spiritual connection to Elvis' music. Mulder didn't feel such a connection to anything else but the music reminded him of happier times when he was young with his Mother and Samantha. He could vaguely recall dancing about for them in their kitchen on the Vineyard. He wondered if he would ever get to share any of his favorite songs with the boy or if music would become a thing of the forgotten past. He cleared his throat. "You know, Elvis said once, 'You have to be careful out in the world. It's so easy to get turned.'" He hadn't realized he had paused until Will called his name ahead. "We should get back to the others." William had never heard of Elvis. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Kryder was screwing a brace into the makeshift stretcher he was constructing from plywood when Mulder and the others returned. Scully was helping Skinner drink, though he was clearly unhappy about it. He sipped gingerly so he would not cough before he raised a hand to push the cup away. Rachel guarded his other side, having barely left her self-appointed post since they had arrived. The older man struggled to pull his blanket back toward his chin. "You should continue on before things get worse. I'm just dead weight to you now. Leave me here. I'll be fine." "The hell you are," Langly said. "The hell we will," Frohike added. Scully bent down by her knees so that she was eye-level with her former boss. She looked to Rachel before she looked straight into his eyes. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter...Sir, you know we're not going to abandon you here." "Hey Kryder, can you put wheels on that thing? We can drag him along behind the van," Mulder grinned at his own joke the others didn't acknowledge. Kevin chuckled for Mulder's benefit as he finished tying the last knot for a handhold. "It's nothing eloquent, but it should hold up." He turned away from the others so he could retie the bandage that had slipped loose in his palm. He would need to change them soon. "We'll make for 55 in the morning then?" Byers asked. Skinner had been their unofficial leader through this point and Byers wanted to be sure he approved of their plans before he fell back asleep. "Where will that lead us?" Skinner asked. "South to the Gulf if we take it that far," Byers supplied. "And then?" "Then...we find a way across the Mississippi."