Returning Home (G)


He was antsy tonight, more than usual.  Something had changed, but he didn’t know what.  And he couldn’t find out.  He couldn’t contact her, it wasn’t safe. 

He never slept well, he hadn’t for years, but he usually could get a few hours. 

He finally kicked the covers off and rose from the bed.  He’d only been here a couple of days.  Was he under surveillance?  Had they caught up with him?  No, it was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. 

He stood in the room, turning, focusing on nothing.  Finally he sank into the chair provided and flipped on the TV using the remote. 

God he wished he could talk to her, make sure she was safe, she and William.  He’d thought leaving them would keep them safe, safer anyway.  But was it working out that way? 

Had he really just left her with an unbearable burden?  Why didn’t he know the right thing to do?  Why couldn’t things be simple for once? 

He should be with Scully.  He should be with Scully and their son.  A family, a real family, not like anything he’d ever known before.  Instead he was here, in the middle of nowhere, alone.  And they were alone. 

He closed his eyes.  It didn’t help.  Opened or closed he could see her, see them, the way they were the last time he’d seen them.  Of course William didn’t look like that, not anymore.  He was growing like a weed no doubt, under Scully’s incredible care. 

That brought an unexpected hitch to his breath.  He wanted, no he needed to see them.  One tear escaped before he could stop it.  He sat up then.  This was counterproductive.  He couldn’t go home, not quite yet.  He’d learned a lot, he knew how to kill them, but it wasn’t enough, not quite - but soon. 

He rose again and straightened out the sheets, then reclined again.  He forced his breathing to a more relaxed pace and closed his eyes, leaving the TV on low just for the company. 

Eventually he dozed fitfully. 


He was on the beach, standing, looking at the space ship they’d built in the sand.  The boy wasn’t around.  That surprised him a little; the boy was always here when he had this dream. 

He’d met the boy here many times.  He never seemed to remember what they said, but he seemed to think more clearly after one of these dreams.  In fact it had come to him how the super soldiers could be killed after one of these dreams. 

Where was he? 

Then the boy was there, though not as substantial as before.

 “Where have you been?” Mulder asked him.

 “I’m not with you anymore.”

 “What?  What do you mean?”  Mulder reached for him.

 The boy stepped back.  “I’m not yours anymore.  Don’t blame her.”

 “Don’t blame . . . don’t blame who?  What are you talking about?” 

“My mother, she couldn’t keep me safe anymore - not alone, so she gave me away to save my life.” 

Mulder realized his hands were tingling and a feeling of dread was taking him over.  “Your mother, surely there was a way, a way to keep you safe.  If she - “ 

“Not alone.  It was too much for her.  She tried, but she gave me away because she loves me so much.  Don’t be angry with her.” 

“Why would I . . . who are you?  What, what’s your name?” 

"William.”  He became even less solid at that word. 

“No.  No!  You’re, you’re my, my son?” 

The boy nodded.  Mulder reached for him and he retreated another step. 

“Don’t go, just don’t go.  Not yet, please.”

 The boy stopped. 

“Can’t we, can’t we keep meeting, like this?  Just until I can get home.  Then together we can, Scully and I, we can bring you home.” 

The boy’s look of sorrow brought tears to Mulder’s eyes. 

“William, we can get you back.  Listen to me, Scully and I, together, there’s nothing - “ 

“We will see each other, but not soon.  My mother needs you.  Go to her soon.”  Then he faded out completely.  

“William!”  He cried out as he woke, then fell back, tears flowing down his face. 

Scully.  What had he driven her to?  She was alone, totally alone now.  He had to get home.