IH-85 - Outskirts of Gaffney, SC 

Will had been dozing off and on for the past fifty miles unable to get comfortable. Although the truck window was rolled all the way down, the hot night air stuck to him like a wet, putrid rag. His mouth and throat were parched. He craved water but was too immersed in a dream to rouse himself. 

Although he couldn't see her, he knew the woman was close by; so was the man. But there was something else - something he'd never felt before, at least not from the man. It was strong -  strong enough to encompass the woman; strong enough to wrap itself around Will too. Plain and simple, it was love - for each other and for him. 

His jaw dropped open and a bug caught in the truck's airflow, hit Will squarely in the back of the throat. He woke up instantly, coughing, gagging and hanging his head out the window, losing the contents of his last meal along Interstate 85. 

When he finally stopped gagging, BJ handed him the bandana that had been dangling from the gear shift. Will wiped his mouth and brought his head back in the truck. 

"Water," he said, but BJ had already put a bottle in his hand before he got the word out. 

Chugging several mouthfuls, Will wretched out the window again. Finally, he drew back in the truck, closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest for a mere moment. With a sudden jolt, he came fully awake. 

"Go back! We've got to go back, BJ!" he insisted. "Turn around now!" 

"Listen to me..." 

"You don't understand! He's in trouble! I've got to help him, BJ! I've got to!" 

Will was at a near panic. He had listened to all of what BJ told him back in Democrat Hot Springs, and he understood what was happening to Mulder. He had to help him - had to tell him that he could beat the virus. 

"BJ, please!" Will pleaded. "Please go back!" 

BJ grabbed the boy's wrists, insisting that he stop and listen. 

"It's okay, Will. I turned around miles ago. I turned around when you entered the battle." 

Democrat Hot Springs, GA 

Mulder couldn't stop coughing, couldn't catch his breath. Blood and fluid drained from his nose and mouth. His stomach convulsed. His chest heaved. Something was rising up inside of him, trying to escape, and he was helpless to stop it. 

The strangest thought struck him as he became unable to inhale or exhale, his airway completely closed off. Twelve years ago this very night, Scully had struggled through the miracle of birth when William was pushed through the narrow tunnel leading to life. It had come full circle now, with an alien life form being pushed into existence as his body convulsed inward upon itself. It would be over soon. 

Even as flashes of lights blinded him from within in a desperate attempt for oxygen, Mulder knew there were two forces at work here - the miracle of life twelve years prior and what he hoped would be the death of evil as it sought escape from within him. 

But who would win? Who would survive? 

*** 

Scully paced about inside the stairwell trying to come up with a plan for escape, but her mind was reeling. Something was happening - something involving Mulder but try as she might, she didn't know what. She knew only that she should be with him. A series of contractions brought a tightened fist against her lower abdomen, leaving her confused. 

*** 

A violent convulsion forced Mulder to vomit the premature and grotesque life form. He gasped for air but found himself repulsed by the vile stench of the fluid that dripped from his mouth onto the floor. Vomiting again, he felt trapped and needed escape. Shaking, he struggled to his feet, with every intention of bolting for the door where the night air awaited. 

The last thing he remembered was Skinner and Gibson reaching out to catch him as everything went black. 

*** 

The two men sat on the porch thankful that the ordeal was behind them. They'd carried an unconscious Mulder back to the bed where Gibson cleaned him up while Skinner cleaned up and disposed of the alien, burning it along with the rags. They were quiet for a long while, breathing in the peace that had settled over the place. 

"I still don't understand," Skinner admitted looking up at the stars, fixating on one in particular that seemed brighter than the rest. 

"It's complicated," Gibson said, but the look on Skinner's face gave him reason to continue. "Okay, in the beginning, humans inhabited the earth." 

"I'm good on that point." 

"When they encountered the virus, things changed." 

"How so?" 

"Some died when the virus mutated into the alien life form" 

"I'm with you so far." 

"Survivors, our ancestors, retained the alien DNA. In most instances, it's dormant, remaining part of our genetic makeup. In rare instances, it's active... like in Mulder and me. But even in us, it's incomplete." 

"But that doesn't explain all that Mulder and Scully unearthed while working on the X-Files. The aliens, shape-shifters, the rebels, super-soldiers." 

"All genetically engineered by the original alien race who left earth at some point. 

"And William?" 

"He's different. He's what the aliens and Syndicate tried to create. Look, abductions are real... by the aliens in an effort to eliminate the possibility of what William is, and by the Syndicate to create a weapon to use against them. Neither succeeded... not altogether anyway." 

"But William's real." 

"The perfect culmination between the two races, where both DNA components are not only active, but are completely compatible and in harmony with one another." 

"How?" 

"I don't know. When I met with Mulder's mother, William hadn't been conceived. She only knew that she had to protect Mulder against anyone knowingthat he could father such a child. Somehow, she learned early on that the alien DNA would surface in him. She believed it enough that she was willing to raise Samantha as her own, having learned that the aliens were planning to take the children of the Syndicate members as insurance." 

"What do you mean as her own?" 

"Samantha wasn't Mulder's sister. She was Jeffrey Spender's sister... taken at birth and reported as stillborn to Cassandra Spender." 

"But how did Mulder's mother know?" 

"She didn't say, but my guess is, CG Spender... Mulder's biological father. I believe he told Mulder's mother, and she agreed to raising Samantha in order to protect Mulder against being taken. She had to make them think it was Samantha that could destroy them." 

Skinner glanced back through the open door way looking at Mulder. 

"All those years searching for his sister... looking for the truth of what happened to her," he shook his head in regret. "How are we going to tell him?" 

"We're not," Gibson removed an envelope from his jeans' pocket. He unfolded it and held it out for Skinner. "His mother will." 

Skinner took the envelope and tilted it towards the light. He silently read the words written on the outside of it... To my beloved son, Fox. 

*** 

The sun was just beginning to make an appearance when Mulder folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. 

"I'm sorry," Gibson said. 

Mulder breathed hard, trying to swallow the hurt that had welled up inside of him. For years, he'd searched for Samantha... only to learn that she wasn't his sister... that an innocent little girl had been given to the aliens in order to protect him. 

"She should have told me." 

"She wanted to, Mulder," Skinner said. "Before she died." 

"You mean before she killed herself," his anger rose. 

He looked at the envelope in his hand. Shaking his head, he held it over the dying flame and watched it shrivel. When the flame neared his hand, he dropped it to the floor and snuffed it out with his shoe. Standing, he took his shirt from the corner post and put it on. 

The door opened suddenly, shifting their focus with immediate alarm. Skinner grabbed his gun and sprang to his feet, arms extended, gun pointed at the doorway, but Gibson gently pushed his arm down and nodded side-to-side, indicating there was no need for the weapon. 

Clarence trotted into the room, his long floppy ears swaying back and forth. He went directly to Mulder, sat down beside him and looked up. If dogs could smile, Mulder would have sworn the Bassett hound was grinning ear-to-ear. 

"Makin' your grand entrance and takin' all the glory upon yourself, you good for nothin' hound," BJ said, entering through the open doorway. "You might want to put that gun up, Mr. Skinner. Only threat in here is gettin' slobbered to death by that mangy dog." 

"BJ, I presume?" Skinner implied, holstering his weapon. 

"I am, Sir," and he gave all of them a big grin. "It's a real pleasure to meet you... to meet you all. Come on in, Boy. It's okay." 

At the mention of a boy, Mulder moved to the end of the bed, heart racing in anticipation. He watched and waited until from around the edge of the door frame, William peered into the room. 

Mulder was not prepared for the emotional impact of the moment when he first saw William standing there half-hidden. From the pain he'd buried so deep inside back when Skinner told him about Scully giving William up for adoption - to missing him at every special time during his and Dana's lives - to continually being just out of reach during the events of the past weeks - even to last night, when he lay dying with the knowledge that he would never know his son... and now William was standing in his midst. He ached for Dana, to share in the absolute joy of this single moment in time. His lips trembled. Tears flooded his eyes so quickly, he couldn't see out of them. He struggled to hold his emotions at bay, but the constant bombardment of them had already begun to destroy the wall around his heart. 

Will was afraid. From the onset of the dreams, even before he knew he had been adopted, he'd hated the man who now stood across the room from him. Did this man, Mulder, know of his feelings? Did he know how angry he was that he'd not fought harder to keep him when he was a baby - for not making a commitment to the woman who gave birth to him? Did he know he hated him for not being the one to reach out his hands when he took his first step - that he failed to see him ride his first horse - that he wasn't there to cheer him on the first time he hit a baseball? Did he know how much he hated Mulder for missing all of those times? Hated him passionately until BJ shared the truth with him, and he came to understand what prevented him from being there? If Mulder knew these things, Will couldn't see it in his face. 

His face! For the first time, nothing stood in the way to cloud his vision except for the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He could see his father's face. There was nothing between them now as they slowly stepped towards one another. When they met, Mulder dropped to his knees and looked with awe at his son, memorizing every feature, every detail, every head-to-toe fact that made William who he was. 

"Oh, Dana," he spoke as if she were beside him. "If you could only see him." 

Mulder's hands touched Will's cheeks, and he held the boy's face as if he were as fragile as a newborn. Will's smaller hands did the same, and reached out to gently hold Mulder's face between his palms. 

At the shared touch, the room illuminated as father and son were reunited - a lifetime of memories on both sides shared between them, communicating all of the love, joy, sorrow and battles. They shared it all in the span of an instant. They understood their connection, their existence and the reason they'd been separated. 

As the light faded, Mulder embraced Will, never wanting to let him go. Gibson, Skinner and BJ encircled the pair. A bond was forged by a force unlike anything they'd ever experienced. It filled each of them and flowed through them. Though they didn't speak of it, they knew they were connected and all were sealed in such a way that no power on earth or from hell could ever separate them.