Title: "Arizona Starlight", Part 2 of 3
Author: Scully82 (Anne Elizabeth)
Rating: PG
Classification: Romance/Angst
Spoilers: "Christmas Carol/Emily,"
"Closure," and the William mytharc of
Seasons 8 & 9. This story contains no
spoilers for The X-Files: I Want to
Believe, and is instead, an alternate
version of events in Mulder's and
Scully's lives between the end of
season 9 and the present.
Summary: Six years after their escape
and still on the run, Mulder and Scully
find hope and a reason to believe.
Disclaimer: These characters do not
belong to me. They are the creations,
and therefore the property, of Chris
Carter, Fox, Gillian Anderson,
David Duchovny, et al.
***
Three hours after they receive the
phone call, there is a knock on the
motel room door, soft, but insistent.
Scully panics.
"They said nine hours," she whispers.
Mulder walks slowly toward the door and
peeps through the eyehole, refusing to
submit to the feeling of dread in the
pit of his stomach. Through the door,
they hear a familiar, anxious voice.
"It's alright. I'm not one of them. I
know you are frightened, but I am here
to help you. They don't know where I
am, and they won't find you."
Gibson. Gibson Praise.
Scully rushes to the door and slides
the chain from its groove, her maternal
instinct kicking in.
"Wait," Mulder says, placing a hand
over the doorknob, protectively, a
gesture he realizes is futile if they
are, indeed, faced with a super
soldier.
Mulder pauses, then speaks: "What am I
thinking, Gibson? What am I thinking
right now?"
"A lot of things. Do you want me to say
all of them?"
"Go ahead, Gibson. It's okay."
"You were worried, a minute ago, that I
was a super soldier, but you're not
afraid anymore. Now, you're trying to
think about something that will make me
laugh: baseball. You're telling me
you'll give me your New York Knicks t-
shirt if you challenge me to a match of
telepathic chess, and I win. But what
you're really thinking about is your
son, William. And that's why I'm here."
Mulder relaxes his grip on the door
handle, and Scully clicks the dead bolt
to the left, unlocking the door. Gibson
walks in, and they do a double-take: he
is as tall as Mulder, now.
"I am twenty-one, you know," he says.
"It's so nice to see you, Gibson,"
Scully says, embracing him, "Mulder and
I have thought about you so often."
"I know. And I have thought about you:
thought along with you, even when I
haven't wanted to."
"We're so sorry, Gibson," Scully says,
quietly.
Mulder cuts to the chase: "Our son,
William, is he all right?"
"He is in danger." Scully's eyes fill
with tears and her knees feel weak
beneath her. Mulder wraps an arm around
her shoulders to steady her.
"But they don't know where he is. Not
right now. They killed the parents who
raised him. They tried to kill him,
because they are still not convinced
that he isn't what they thought he was,
but I stopped them. I took him away,
before they could reach him."
Scully's tears overflow, "Oh, Gibson."
"Why don't you sit down," Mulder says,
clearing a spot on the bed, "And tell
us what you know."
"There's no time," Gibson says, "You
have to come with me." Mulder and
Scully exchange worried glances, then
follow Gibson as he darts out the door.
In the parking lot, directly in front
of their motel room, is an unmarked van
with darkened windows.
"Get in. Now." Gibson says, and they
obey. The van speeds off before Mulder
and Scully have time to take in the
identity of the driver and two
additional passengers.
"Byers? Langley? Frohike?" Mulder says,
incredulous. "I want to believe, but. .
. but you're dead and. . . and buried."
"We have been underground, it's true,"
Byers, the driver, remarks.
"But dead? Not by a long shot," Frohike
says.
Scully remains speechless, stunned, but
Mulder probes further: "But I saw you.
I saw you in the desert, six years
ago."
"Well, we couldn't have been dead if
you saw us, could we," Byers queries.
"Yeah, except he sees dead people,"
Langley points out, and the three erupt
in laughter.
"But you're really, truly not. . ."
Mulder continues.
"Deceased? No way. Sorry to disappoint
you," Langley answers. "We've been deep
underground, like Byers told you. We
had some. . . information. . . six
years ago that we thought it was better
they didn't know we knew. So, we faked
our own deaths."
"We've been hiding out in the desert,"
Frohike adds, "Well, Langley and I
have. Byers has been elsewhere."
"Up in Wyoming," Byers chimes in,
"Keeping an eye on your son."
Scully speaks, finally: "I don't
believe this."
"Believe," Langley commands, with a
shrug of his shoulders.
"Where are we going? Where are you
taking us?" Scully asks, then,
panicked, she adds: "Are you taking us
to William? To my mother? To Skinner?
Are they safe?"
"That's the desired outcome of this
mission: safety for everyone involved,"
Byers says.
"And yeah, we're taking you to them.
We're meeting up with their helicopter
in western Kansas. We've just sent word
to Skinner through secret channels.
Very secret channels," Frohike
explains.
"Guess who," Langley challenges Mulder.
"I couldn't even begin to imagine,"
Scully answers.
"Marita. Marita Covurrubias," Mulder
answers.
"Geez, he's as psychic as you are,"
Langley says, giving Gibson a friendly
nudge.
"We're traveling in the daytime,"
Scully remarks, struggling not to allow
her fear to betray her, "Is this safe?"
Frohike answers: "Well, I don't know
about yours, but my mom always said the
bad guys come out at night."
"I NEED SOMEONE TO BE SERIOUS, HERE!"
Scully finally says, no longer fighting
back the desperation and terror:
"THIS IS MY SON'S LIFE WE'RE TALKING
ABOUT; MY MOTHER'S LIFE; ALL OF OUR
LIVES!"
This time, it is Gibson who answers:
"They, the super soldiers, know that
Mrs. Scully and Skinner are headed to
Arizona with William. They do not know
that they are stopping in Kansas,
instead. And they have no idea where
you are, Ms. Scully, Mr. Mulder: they
think that you have given up."
Mulder grimaces at the suggestion that
he has given up on the X-Files, on his
son.
"His. . . parents," Scully asks,
quietly, "When were they killed?"
"Two days ago," Gibson answers. "They
were vacationing in Arizona: at the
Grand Canyon." Scully gasps, realizing
how closely their paths had come to
crossing.
"What happened," she asks, although she
doesn't want to know; doesn't want to
feel William's pain along with her own.
"They were hiking," Byers answers,
"fully enjoying the trip, the views. It
was really a beautiful last family
vacation, if that's what it had to be."
Scully winces.
"They managed to track them down,"
Byers continues, "The super soldiers,
the alien assassins. They were just too
close. . . there was too much
extraterrestrial activity in the area.
They detected him. . . the part of him
that is still like them."
"But there IS no part of him that is
like them" Scully protests, her voice
raising an entire octave, "Jeffrey
Spender saw to that: he injected him
with that metal; he made him fully
human! He isn't special to them,
anymore! I'm not sure he ever was: they
left him; they went away right after he
was born; right after they came to take
him. He's just a little boy! He's just
my little boy, dammit!"
"It's okay, Scully, it's okay," Mulder
whispers, pulling her into a gentle
embrace. "Byers, Langley, and Frohike
have got our backs. And Gibson."
"He is just a little boy, Ms. Scully,"
Gibson says, sounding more like the
ten-year-old version of himself that
Scully and Mulder remember. "He is
fully human; he is just like you, down
to the chip in his neck."
Scully cannot speak: she feels her
throat close up. Mulder is her voice:
"He's an abductee?" He asks, quietly.
"They have tried to make him. . . what
he was; what they wanted him to be,"
Gibson explains, "But they have failed,
even after hundreds of tests."
In her mind, Scully hears it again,
Emily's voice, innocent and pleading:
"Mommy said no more tests."
She closes her eyes tight to shut out
the noise, the pain.
"And now, because they have failed,
they want him dead," Mulder says
grimly, connecting the dots.
"Yes," Byers says, slowly, "But that is
exactly what we are trying to prevent."
"Gibson has a special connection with
the boy, because of the tests; because
of the special powers that he and
William once shared," Frohike says.
"And so you were able to find him and
stop them?" Scully asks Gibson, her
gratitude concentrated, overwhelming.
"They assassinated his parents. Killed
them instantly. But I managed to divert
them: to lead them, after me, to a part
of the canyon rich in iron deposits,
rich in the kind of metal that destroys
them."
Scully doesn't want to ask, but she
needs to know: "Did he see them,
Gibson? Did he see his parents die, and
the. . . the super soldiers?"
Gibson pauses before answering. "I'll
let him tell you about all of that,
Agent Scully."
"The important thing," Byers says, "Is
that Gibson got him out of there,
before any more of them could show up.
They got out of Arizona, and Gibson
found me, and we transferred William to
the care of Walter Skinner and your
mother. They have taken a big risk in
contacting you, but Gibson does believe
that you two are off the alien
conspirators' radar, for now, at least,
and perhaps the boy will be safer away
from Washington."
"For now," Gibson echoes, "But we have
to be careful: you are never, any of
you, out of danger."
"I just want to see my son. I need to
see him," Scully says, her voice an
impassioned whisper.
***
They drive for hours, Scully even
managing to fall asleep, briefly, her
head on Mulder's shoulder. Then, just
as night falls, they are in Kansas, in
the middle of a vast field, underneath
an endless, starry sky.
They stand, perfectly still, beside the
Lone Gunmen's getaway van: Frohike,
Langley, Byers, Gibson, Mulder, Scully.
They wait until the bright lights of
the helicopter approach them, until the
breezes created by its descent nearly
topple them. Then, they run.
Mulder and Scully run to the
helicopter: they run like they have
never before run in their lives, not
even from a monster or a killer or a
super soldier; not even to each other
in times of great danger. They run to
meet their son.
He steps to the ground slowly, behind
Skinner, behind Scully's mother. The
landing lights are blinding, and
Margaret Scully shields her grandson's
eyes from the glare with one hand,
holding his small hand in the other.
"Dana," she breathes, her voice full of
emotion for the daughter she has not
seen in six years; for the child who is
about to meet her own child for the
first time since he was an infant.
It is Mulder he looks at first, once
the helicopter lights fade into the
darkness, and the moon and stars are
the only source of illumination. It is
Mulder he recognizes, because it is
Mulder's dark hair; his strong jaw; his
wide lower lip; his deep-set hazel eyes
that he sees every morning in the
mirror when he brushes his teeth before
he goes to school.
Mulder kneels down in front of his son,
trying his hardest not to cry, not to
overwhelm this child who has just seen
so much. He looks into William's eyes,
asks him if he knows who he is.
William, in a tiny voice, answers,
simply, "Yes."
Scully, standing behind Mulder, now
moves to kneel on the ground beside
him. She tries to restrain herself, to
remain neutral, to be a calm,
reassuring adult figure and not, right
away, a mother, but she fails. She
pulls the little boy into her arms,
holding him, feeling the weight of his
thin torso, the texture of his thick,
brown hair.
He resists her embrace for a short
moment, then relaxes into her arms,
laying his little head on her shoulder.
He knows her.
Mulder looks up at the sky, at the
stars shining down on the two people he
loves most in the world, and he sends
his deepest thanks, his inestimable
gratitude, telepathically, up to the
souls in the starlight.