Chapter 62

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Underground Tunnel 

A large convoy of vehicles headed out of the main transport area, moving in the direction of the barricade. They were forced to stop behind the other vehicles because there was no room to maneuver around them. 

"They're here," Gibson sensed, telling the five survivors who stood close by. 

Scully grabbed his arm, her eyes questioning what he knew in his mind. 

"Don't worry. Mulder and William are with them," he reassured her. 

"You see, Scully," Frohike confirmed, moving up behind her. "It's going to be okay." 

She turned around and touched his cheek, thanking him for his friendship. She glanced about at all of them - Gibson, the Gunmen and BJ, feeling very thankful for their presence. 

Musgrave arrived first, leading a large entourage of super-soldiers with him. All were armed and menacing. Scully's eyes searched the crowd, looking for Mulder and William, but they were nowhere in sight. 

"It's about time," Smoking Man admonished Musgrave when he stopped before him. 

"They were... elusive," Musgrave said, "but in the end, perseverance prevailed." 

"Where are they? Mulder... the boy?" 

Musgrave didn't answer. He simply waved his hand in the air, motioning his soldiers to bring the prisoners forward. 

As they came into view, Skinner and Grant were the first to arrive. Scully's heart went out to them. They looked like hell, their skin and clothes bloodied and torn - their faces gaunt and drawn from exhaustion. 

"AD Skinner," Smoking Man said while lighting a cigarette. "You look surprised." 

"I thought you were dead," Skinner said, stopping in his tracks. 

"Rumors of my death have been... well... wrong," he smirked and approached Skinner. 

"Well, there's always hope you'll get the bullet you so deserve." 

"On the contrary, Walter. I doubt there's any bullet that can stop me," he bragged, exhaling smoke in Skinner's face. "Oh, I'm sorry," he feigned, dispersing the smoke with his hand. "I forgot. You don't approve of smoking." 

Skinner shook his head. There was nothing he wanted to say to this man. For years, he'd sat idly by, unable to make a move without Smoking Man's knowledge. Even when he'd wanted to help Mulder and Scully, it seemed like this man always countered his every move, making Skinner look like a double-crossing bastard. How many times had he and Mulder butted heads over something he had no control over - things that had happened because of Smoking Man's manipulation and all the while, he was the one left holding the bag. How many times did those same things cause Mulder to question his loyalty? No, he had nothing to say to this man. 

Musgrave pushed Skinner and Grant towards the group. When they reached it, Grant hugged Scully briefly and then shook hands with the others, feeling the warmth of their welcome. Likewise, Skinner hugged Scully, pulling her close to his side. 

"You alright?" he asked, his fatherly affection revealing itself. 

Scully nodded, but her eyes pleaded with him for more. 

"Don't worry. They're okay." 

Relief washed over her, and she hugged Skinner, breathing a little easier. He'd already decided to stay close, knowing she would need what little strength he still possessed. He glanced at Frohike, his eyes betraying the lie he'd just told Scully. Frohike nodded, fearing the worst. 

"At last, we meet again," Scully heard Smoking Man say. "And I see you brought my grandson," he grinned devilishly. 

Mulder ignored him. From the moment he was pushed through the crowd of soldiers and into the open, his eyes searched for Scully. She was all that mattered to him now. But when he saw the expression on her face as their eyes met, his heart dropped as she sank to the ground - her reaction from the sight of William's lifeless body in his arms. 

How many times since William's adoption had he dreamed of bringing their son back to Scully? How many times had he envisioned a mother/son reunion filled with overwhelming joy? Each time he dreamed it, it was all he could picture when he brought William to her, but that's not what he saw now. He saw only pain and fear in her eyes. 

"Fox, my boy. Let's talk," Smoking Man intercepted, breaking through Mulder's thoughts where the sound of Smoking Man's footsteps closed in on him. 

Mulder felt his hatred rise, felt the bitterness from years of lies - from years of betrayal. He looked to Scully for footing and saw exactly what he deserved. She hadn't even looked up - her very breath having been stolen from her. 

Again, his father was there, not showing himself, but hanging at his back like a shadow that controlled and manipulated, holding rein to every string while the rest of the world bowed to his puppetry. Oh, how he hated the man - hated him for what he'd done to his mother - hated him for ordering the death of his father, the man that had raised him. Above all, he hated him for letting the aliens take Samantha from him in order to save his own worthless hide. There was nothing about Smoking Man that Mulder didn't hate and as he stood there now, it was all he could do to keep his hatred from consuming him. 

"You hate me, Fox, don't you," Smoking Man whispered in his ear so that only Mulder could hear. "You'd love to kill me, wouldn't you?" he circled around behind him like the vulture that he was, waiting for death to enter its next meal. "Good," he grinned. "I want you to hate me for all the things I've done to you over the years... to you, to your mother, father... to Samantha," he struck a chord. "You have no idea all that I've controlled in your life... all that I still control. Go on... hate me. You have reason, Son. You have good reason." 

Mulder tried to see clearly through the tears that burned in his vision. He tried to clear his mind, but the nagging voice behind him kept pounding at his heart, kept pounding at what he was trying to hide. But his father knew. He knew where he was weak. He knew what he feared most. 

"So... this boy you hold..." Smoking Man continued his attack from behind, "you have doubts about him." 

"No," Mulder said, challenging his father. 

"You sure about that? Absolutely sure?" 

"He's my son," Mulder said again, louder this time so that his voice broke through the pain Scully was experiencing. 

She looked up then, trying to recollect what had just happened from the moment when she first saw William in Mulder's arms. It was like trying to recall the moments lost after falling unconscious. They weren't there. But as she looked up now, she saw that a battle was brewing between Mulder and his father. 

"I know the truth, Fox," Smoking Man grinned. "We both know the truth, don't we?" 

Mulder tried to see his father from the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't. And when he tried to face him, he couldn't move. He was scared - paralyzed with fear. 

"One night with her doesn't make you William's father. I mean, look at her," he ordered Mulder. "Just look." Mulder couldn't resist the order. "How many years did she string you along, Fox? Pretending to care about you... taking her little notes to debunk your work but never letting you have that one thing you desired." 

"That's not how it was between us." 

"Oh, brother. Do you expect me to believe that? Do you think you were the only sap she strung along?" 

"Lies," Mulder said. "You're nothing but lies." 

"Am I? You're a fool to think there weren't others... that man with the tattoo... the writer next door." 

"No," Mulder's resolve weakened. 

"Oh yes, Fox. There were others, and this boy is not yours... not yours by a long shot." 

Mulder's arms began to shake. How long had he been holding William? He was growing tired, weary. Fatigue was catching up to him making his thoughts blur together. He closed his eyes trying to tune out the voice of his father but the more he tried to escape it, the more he fell under its control. 

"That's it, Fox. Just let it go. Let go of her lies. You aren't this boy's father any more than I am. Stop carrying this burden. Let me take it from you. You need to rest. Look at you... you're shaking because you're so tired. Here, give him to me, so you can catch your breath." 

The voice was so persuasive, and Mulder was so tired. What would it hurt? What would it hurt if his father held the boy? No, not a boy, your son he reminded himself. He opened his eyes. Scully was looking right at him.

"Scully," his eyes pleaded. "Help me." 

"Mulder," she took a step forward, but was stopped by the glaring red eyes that burned from behind Mulder's back. 

She had to get through to him. She didn't know what Smoking Man was saying to him, but she knew he'd found a weakness in Mulder's armor. She read it in his eyes. She could see it in the tiredness that had beset him. He was looking to her for help, but what could she do? What could she say? 

Mulder closed his eyes trying to focus inward, but the voices - the thoughts of others came to him. 

"Mulder, it's me," Scully pleaded. "Don't listen to his lies. You know the truth about me... about us." 

"She's right," Grant piped in. "She belongs to you... to you and William... no one else." 

"Agent Mulder," Skinner commanded, causing Mulder to straighten up. "You're William's father. You know that. It's time you get off your ass and believe it." 

"Listen my friend... our history doesn't lie, and you know it. It's time to stop fighting it," Gibson urged. 

"That's right, hang tough, Mulder," Langly added. 

"Yeah, don't give in to that monster," Byers encouraged." 

"You gonna listen to that bag of crap, or you gonna listen to your friends?" Frohike challenged. "Little Man is definitely yours." 

"Remember who you belong to. Remember who we all belong to," BJ reminded him. 

Mulder squeezed his eyes tight. When he opened them, everyone was staring at him, and he wondered if the voices had only been in his head. 

"The boy?" Smoking Man once again tempted Mulder from behind. "Let me take him from you." 

Mulder's arms weakened along with his thoughts. A brief respite. That's all he needed - a break from the weight of his son. He adjusted his hold on William. 

"I... I can't," he said. 

"You can, Fox. It's alright. We're family, remember. I loved your mother. She loved me. The boy is her grandson. I can take him to her. She's waiting to see him," Smoking Man's thoughts continued to play in Mulder's head. "And Samantha. She is so excited about meeting her nephew." 

"Fox!" Samantha's voice echoed in his head. 

But it was wrong - off somehow. It was the voice of a little girl - of his sister, calling to him when they were kids, not the voice of Samantha as an adult as it should be if she were truly here. The truth began to seep into his heart and the tears of losing Samantha flowed once again down his cheeks when she called to him again. 

"Samantha," he said barely above a whisper. "I should have done something, Samantha. I should have saved you." 

"That's right, Fox. You could have, but you didn't," Smoking Man continued the game. "So here's your chance to right that. Give me the boy, and I'll give you Samantha... an even trade... tit for tat." 

Mulder squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them, he looked down at the lifeless form in his arms. His breath caught when he found he was holding Samantha. Her eyes opened peacefully and reached into him. 

"No, Fox. This isn't real," she said, and she closed her eyes. 

Mulder blinked and stared at William. It was the slap in the face that he needed, and everything became clear. The seal on his chest burned against him. As he looked up at his friends, he saw a glow burning inside of them, and in that very moment, he saw the truth revealed - the truth of good and the truth of evil, each battling for the same soul - the soul that at this very juncture was up for grabs - his. 

With a newfound strength and understanding, and with the hold of fear broken by that truth, he turned and looked his father straight in the eyes. 

"William's my son. You can't have him. Not now. Not ever." 

The two men stared at one another for a long moment, neither giving in to the other. Though Mulder saw the red embers ignite behind his father's eyes, he turned his back on them, and started walking towards Scully. 

"Have it your way," Smoking Man acknowledged Mulder's choice. 

Within his first few steps, Mulder's leg gave way beneath him sending him to his knees, the flesh on one thigh burned from behind. Scully started towards him. 

"Scully, no!" he shouted, stopping her in her tracks. 

Skinner moved to hold her back. She pleaded with him, but he shook his head, heeding Mulder's warning. 

Struggling to regain his footing, Mulder stood up, favoring his uninjured leg. Another step and again, he dropped, searing pain ripping through his other thigh to leave a scorch mark on the concrete roadway in front of him. 

"Mulder!" Scully screamed, trying to free herself from Skinner's hold, but with Frohike anchoring her other arm, she was at a standstill. 

"How long do you want to play this game, Fox?" Smoking Man asked, moving up behind him. "I can play it all day, but it looks like you're running out of steam." 

"Go to hell," Mulder said through clenched teeth. 

"Been there and back already, Son. Maybe you'd like to come along some time? I'd be glad to show you around, give you the grand tour. Tell you what. Give me the boy, and I'll let you walk... literally," he laughed. 

Mulder pushed his father's offer aside. He tried pulling one leg up underneath him, hoping there was some way he could stand. As badly as the wounds hurt, they'd not struck bone. He was certain he could go on. 

"Going somewhere?" he heard laughter behind him just before his shoulder twitched backwards in reaction to a burning sensation in his shoulder blade. 

He dropped William's legs against the pavement unable to hold their weight. In desperation, he tried to pick them up, but the hole in his shoulder prevented him from doing so. 

In front of him, his friends protested and started towards him, but Smoking Man sent a barricade of fire in front of them, forcing them to back away. 

"I don't think you want to interfere," he advised, lowering the flames just enough so they could witness his evil acts. 

"Mulder!" Scully screamed. 

"I love it when a woman begs. Don't you, Fox?" Smoking Man grinned. "What's it going to be, Son? Three down, one to go," he taunted. "Ready to give me the boy?" 

Mulder's expression grew determined - defiant. 

"He doesn't belong to you," Mulder stuttered through the pain. "None of us belong to you." 

Smoking Man's features took on an arrogant look of disdain. 

"Well, then. You leave me no choice." 

Unable to stop him, Mulder succumbed to the burning hole that pierced his last hold on William. He could smell his burning flesh, could see the smoldering of his shirt at his chest where the hole bore through him. Unwillingly, he dropped William on the ground in front of him. 

"Mulder!" Scully screamed. 

Doubled over in pain, Mulder felt Smoking Man's shadow rise up, towering over him. When he looked up, darkness had completely encircled him and William. It was so black, he could see nothing else - nothing beyond the thick black curtain that separated him from the others. 

He leaned over, placing himself between the darkness and his son. It was at that very moment that he saw it - that somehow even in the darkness, it shimmered around William's neck. He focused on it, forgetting about the darkness, forgetting about his father, ignoring the pain in his body. Hands shaking, he reached out and took hold of Scully's gold cross necklace that he'd entrusted to his son. A tear fell on it before he squeezed his hand around it. 

Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I believe."

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