#.but I wanna explore more poster-y designs later

[blackcoffeeandteardrops]

Precipice (5/7)

This one was interesting to write. You’ll see why. I also got to do something here I’ve wanted to work into a fic for a while but could never figure out how. This will be fun.

Anyhow. Previous chapters are available here & on AO3. Thanks for reading! Below the cut:

William had been convinced at first that if he just stayed upstairs and remained calm, that those keeping him might not go away, but would eventually give him the means to escape. He had tried the doorknob, but found that shortly after he’d reentered the room, someone had come along and quietly bolted it behind him. The longer he stayed, pacing so frantically he practically wore a line in the carpet, he feared that possibility might never come, and if it did that he wouldn’t know what to do with it. Each second that he was cooped up caused panic to seep in, slowly slipping through the cracks of the exterior he fought so hard to keep composed.

He took a deep breath and then another, fighting back a wave of nausea. Whatever they’d given him had managed to numb him for a time, but his senses were starting to come back stronger than before. He stalked over to the window and pressed his palm to the glass, staring at it with more force than was strictly necessary, as if doing so could cause it to shatter. While he thought he felt it shake, the sensation just as easily could have been caused by the wind that stirred outside.

The window overlooked a clearing behind the house, beyond which stood a ring of trees. He couldn’t see anything past that, but he wanted more than anything to take off towards them, trying to break free. He backed away, stepping towards the center of the room, staring down at his hand and willing it to transform, only to see his pale skin instead.

He glared at the camera within the clock face and then at the screen embedded in the wall, wondering if they had a way to monitor him through that as well. They’d wanted him to break free, to explore just enough to see the actual children waiting down the hall. It was a fact he realized not long after seeing them and hearing the guy who referred to himself as Mr. Y talk to him about how great his abilities were. He wondered not for the first time what it was about himself that set him apart from the others. They were in rooms that seemed cold and clinical, whereas his kidnappers had placed him in something more closely resembling a bedroom, albeit absent any personal effects.

He sat at the foot of the bed and closed his eyes, recalling the room at his parent’s house, decorated with posters and with books tossed haphazardly about. It had only been a short time since he’d had a room he could truly call his own, but already he longed for sheets that weren’t slept in by someone else and decorations on the wall that A-weren’t identical to every other in the hotel or B-designed to watch his every move. William shoved himself off the bed and ran a tired hand through his hair, getting sick of waiting. Every second that ticked by without someone coming in and saying or doing something was another he spent boiling in pent up frustration.

“What do you want from me?” he cried, staring directly at the camera, its electronic gaze regarding him with a stern curiosity. “You’re not gonna kill me, or you would’ve done that already. So what?” he asked, flicking his gaze towards the door.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins and he was certain that he didn’t want to wait around to find out just what they wanted from him, so he stepped out of the direct view of the camera in hopes of finding something he could use as a weapon. He planned to cause a disruption and make one of the guards, if not Mr. Y or Erica Price themselves to enter the room, hoping to attack them whenever they entered. Once in the hall, he’d run as fast as he could, thinking if he could just get to the trees outside, he’d be safe. He’d figure out the rest from there. The image of the little boy he’d seen working on the puzzle and moving the pieces with his mind flitted through his memory and he shook his head to try and make it disappear, genuinely wanting to believe that once he was free he’d find a way to get help for the others. They’d need more help than he alone could give, and though he didn’t know them personally, he figured he owed them that.

Spotting the towel he’d used earlier to dry his hands, he grabbed it, winding it tight into a coil before unwrapping it and repeating the action once more. Deciding his next move, he marched to the nightstand, quickly throwing the lamp as well as the food tray that rested on top to the ground. He gripped the mattress and tugged it away from the box spring, getting a little winded from his efforts. “What do you want?” he repeated, tucking the edge of the towel into his jeans. “Just tell me. What’s the point?”

He crossed the room, stopping at the clock, gripping it with both hands and thinking that if anything would get someone in the room fast, it’d be trying as hard as he could to rip it from the wall.

When the door burst open less than a minute later, he realized that he was right.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” the guard said, leveling a gun at William who quickly backed away and did as he asked.

“I just wanna talk to whoever’s in charge. You get that, don’t you? I wanna know why I’m here. Can you really blame me?” William asked. The desperation laced in his voice wasn’t an act. He held one hand up and pointed at the man’s gun with the other. “You don’t need that. You’re just doing your job. Take me to whoever’s in charge. I’ll comply. Just take me to them, that’s all I want.”

The guard hesitated, the hand he used to hold his gun wavering just slightly. “I have my orders, and they’re to keep you here until they’re ready for you downstairs.”

“You wanna keep me locked up like some kind of animal? Like a freak?” William replied, laughing bitterly. He cocked his head to one side, cracking his neck. He breathed deep, inhaling through his nose, not knowing if he could hold the image long enough, but thinking he had to try. “I’ll show you a freak,” he said, holding out a hand, flexing it as the image of clawed talons flashed in place of his fingers. It was there and gone in little over an instant, but a look at the guard told William that he’d been spooked. The distraction had been enough for him to whip the towel free from his waistband, twisting it into a coil as he surged forward, wrapping it around the man’s neck as he drove a knee into his stomach, causing the him to bowl over. Watching the man writhe in pain wasn’t exactly something he liked, but as William darted out of the room, he figured it was a small price to pay.

He quickly dashed down the hall, the overhead lights nearly blinding him. Everything seemed sharper than normal, like the white balance had been increased, causing the objects he ran past to be distinct but slightly out of focus.

Footsteps echoed behind him as he rounded a corner and then another. His heart hammered in his chest as he opened a door, tucking himself behind it, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the cool wood as he listened to the sound of boots running past his hiding place. He was safe, if only for a moment, and he wanted to get his bearings straight before taking off once more.

Suddenly, a light flickered on behind him, and it wasn’t until William turned around that he saw Erica Price sitting with her legs crossed, perfectly poised in an armchair near an open set of double doors, leading out to a balcony.

“Exploring your new home?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. She uncrossed her legs, remaining seated, but watching his every move.

William’s eyes shifted, drinking in the room that he gathered was an office, judging by the shelves lined with books and glass figurines, along with the tall desk that sat across the room. “You were sitting in the dark,” he said, realizing as he spoke how ridiculous he sounded. He was trying to escape, and he was wasting time pointing out obvious facts.

Erica shrugged, gesturing to the open door. Outside, the sky was gray, but a decent amount of natural lighting remained. “I was resting. Waiting for our next move,” she replied, tapping her nails against the woods arms of her chair. “It’s a pity, really. I was truly hoping you’d comply more easily.”

Before he could ask what she meant by that, the door opened and two more guards barged in, guns aimed at him. William gasped, hungry for air and feeling as if blood pooled in his extremities. He’d been able to outrun one man, but now he was faced with two, along with Erica who stood watching, apparently amused and waiting for whatever might happen next. William panicked, backing himself towards the wall, knocking over a set of figurines as did so, not even caring as they shattered upon hitting the floor.

“Just allow them to take you back to your room, Jackson. They’ll give you another dose of the sedative, stronger this time,” Erica said, casting a glare in the direction of the guards. “And when you wake, you and I will have a nice chat. What you can do is too valuable to waste, darling. It’s too precious a skill to let you--”

“No,” William exclaimed, reaching an arm out intending to barrel his way past the guards, only to push one of them clear across the room, causing him to hit a bookcase. He watched in horror as it toppled, the leather bound volumes scattering across the room in a fit of dust. Outside the room he thought he heard sirens, but he couldn’t be certain of where they were coming from, though he knew what they meant. He had to get out soon, or it was likely more guards would be coming for him.

“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about,” Erica said, keeping her voice level. She cocked her chin at the remaining guard, clearing her throat. “Do you have another syringe on you?” she asked.

William pressed his back against the wall, trying desperately to inch closer to the door. He could try and outrun as many people as he could, but he wouldn’t be able to do so if they managed to get more of the sedative in his system. He eyed the open door, knowing they were on the second floor but also knowing he could try making the leap if the hallway proved to not be a viable option. The guard stepped into his space, gripping his arm tightly, but before he could do anything about it, they were interrupted by the sight of someone he hadn’t exactly expected to see, at least so soon. The red headed woman--Dana Scully, his mother, he thought, the word exploding in his mind like fireworks--charged into the room with a dark haired woman behind her.

“Move away from him,” Scully said, darting her tongue out to moisten chapped lips. She and Reyes had to search the majority of the second floor to find him, but her heart beat fast upon locking eyes with the son she’d given up so long ago. There was a panic in his look that she recognized, a trapped sensation she unfortunately knew all too well, and she’d was willing to give anything to make him never feel that way again. She fired her gun at the guard, landing a shot in his leg, and leveled it at Erica Price next. She glanced quickly at Reyes and then at William, recalling how she’d trusted her with her son years ago and how she needed to do the same once more. “Jackson,” she said, fighting the tiny stab of pain she felt at referring to him by that name, but also knowing that if she was to earn his trust, she had to make him feel comfortable. “This is Monica. You can trust her,” she said, nodding silently at the other woman. She didn’t exactly like what she’d done, but she could at least sympathize somewhat with why she’d done it. “Go downstairs. She’ll help you until I’m done here.”

Erica stood, smiling more triumphantly than was strictly appropriate for the occasion, and crossed her arms. “But Agent Scully, I do believe that you’re already done here,” she said, stepping an inch closer. She looked at the doorway behind them, silently wondering what was taking any of the other guards so long. “You’re really willing to let this precious boy squander the gift he’s been given? You’d be willing to let him sit at home, masquerading as normal? That’s not a life for someone as special as--”

William charged forward, sick of the empty words and vague idealism that she was spinning, intending to pin her to the wall so Scully could get a clean shot, but as he pushed forward, the air around him did as well, causing Erica to surge backward. He watched in an odd blend of horror and fascination as she was propelled onto the balcony, her body hitting the railing with enough force for it to shatter. By the time he approached the edge, she was laying on the ground below, her limbs splayed out in all directions with a blank expression on her face. “I…” he said, his mouth growing dry as he felt himself begin to shake. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Scully replied, finding the urge to reach out and comfort him overwhelming. The second her hand came to rest on his shoulder however, he bolted away, hopping over what remained of the railing and landing on a branch that brushed against the balcony. “Jackson, stop. We can help you.”

He was halfway done with climbing down the tree when he looked up, feeling more than just a little bit guilty at his decision to run. He’d make it up to her, he thought, once all of this was through. Once the dust settled and it was safe, he’d find a way to visit her and Mulder and to patch things up. “I’m sorry,” he said, landing his feet on the ground with a subtle thud. He turned on his heel, heading for the tree line, thinking his legs couldn’t carry him fast enough.

Scully gripped the railing, staring in desperation at his retreating form. Reyes nudged her arm, causing her to jump.

“Go,” Reyes said, understanding written clearly across her features. She took several steps back and pointed in the direction of the open door. “I’ll go see if Mulder needs help. Go get your son, Dana.”

If they had more time, Scully thought she might have considered hugging the other woman. “Thank you,” she replied before looking at the tree limb with trepidation. Going back into the house and finding a door was more logical, but she also knew the place was likely teaming with people ready to shoot her if need be, and she knew that though the tree was dangerous, it was a safer option.

William was nearly halfway across the clearing when he heard her calling his name. He turned, startled by how fast Scully had caught up with him. He gulped and balled his hands up into fists, taking a step back as she quickly approached him. “You shouldn't follow me.”

Scully stood speechless as she tried processing the fact it was the first time in years she and William were in the same place looking at one another. She recalled the image of his pallid face peeking out of a body bag and shook her head to keep such thoughts at bay. “I know you're scared, and that's okay--”

“Scared?” he cried, widening his eyes as he pointed back to the house. “I killed someone. Maybe. She could still be alive, I don't know. But I’m the one who made that happen. You saw. You can't just pretend you didn't because you think you wanna know me.”

“William,” Scully replied, his name barely a wisp of air from her lips. She took a breath and smiled sadly. “Jackson. I know what I saw. What I saw was you protecting yourself. No one can fault you for that, least of all me,” she continued, recalling the lengths she and Mulder had gone to in years gone by under the guise of protecting each other.

William darted his head from left to right, frowning in confusion like there had been a sudden shift in the air that he couldn't quite figure out. “How can you want to protect me so bad when you don't even know me?”

His words stung even if he was right, so Scully ducked her head and blinked back the tears that clouded her vision before looking back up at him. She pulled the snowglobe from her pocket, surprised in a way that it had remained intact. “I know it was you. At the hospital, and again at the gas station. I heard what you said. You want to get to know me, and I want to get to know you, too. And if you come with me, we can have that chance.”

He glanced at the snowglobe and then back at her, as if he was unsure of what to say. “How can you be sure you can protect me? Those people wanted me because of what I can do, wanted to use me like a weapon, and now--”

Before he could finish his sentence, they turned their heads at the sound of an engine revving, watching in stunned silence as a black SUV barreled through the clearing, stopping several feet away from them. Scully watched as the driver's side door opened, revealing a tall dark haired man she didn't recognize wielding a gun. It was the man who stepped out of the passenger side that made her blood run cold. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He stared up at the cloudy sky as he took one last long drag from his cigarette and tossing in under foot, blotting it out with the toe of his shoe. “I’m sure you're aware, Agent Scully, how special the boy is. We’ve come to take him somewhere he’ll be truly appreciated.”

Scully angled herself away from William, holding an arm out in hopes of keeping him back. She glared at Spender and slowly raised her gun from her side. “I need you to go back to the house. Get Mulder and Monica, and get the hell out of here,” she said, only to look behind her and see William hadn't moved. “Please, go.”

William squared his jaw, resolved to finish this once and for all. “I’m tired of people talking about me like I’m not around. Like I’m some kind of special freak who can do things no one should. I’m weird. I get it, but what I don't understand is why some old creep like you would want anything to do with someone like me.”

“Creep?” Spender asked, choking back a papery laugh. “That's no way to talk to your creator. If you come with me, I can help you understand how truly remarkable you are. What's inside of you--”

“Creator?” William replied, holding his palm to his forehead as he felt a headache growing stronger behind his eyes. “The guy inside, your friend maybe? He mentioned some crazy stuff about aliens, is that what you're talking about?”

“Not exactly,” Spender replied, lowering his hand and slowly gesturing to the man at his side. “Your parents--your birth parents, to be precise--wanted you, and I had the ability to bring their wish to fruition. But even I could not have predicted how amazing you'd become,” he said, snapping his fingers at the guard and watching as he ran in Scully's direction. The movement was distraction enough for him to sidle up to William, looping an arm around his waist. “No need to fight, but time is of the essence. We’ll need to go now.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” William replied, kicking at the ground, grass breaking under his heels as Spender half dragged and half carried him towards the SUV. Pushing Erica off of the balcony had taken a lot out of him, so even though he tried hard to fight back, it did little to diminish the hold Spender had on him. “Let me go!”

“Hey!”

The four people standing and struggling in the clearing quickly turned, watching as two figures edged closer to them.

“Fox, it's a pity this family reunion isn't under better circumstances, isn't it?” Spender said before focusing on Reyes standing with her gun raised at them. “And Monica, I’m sure you understand you stabbing me in the back means our deal is effectively revoked? I’m disappointed, but I can't say I’m surprised.”

Mulder watched in horror as Spender pressed a gun to William’s side, only to hear a gasp of pain from Scully as he saw her faced with a similar situation. “Let them go, and you’ll walk free.”

“Come on, Fox. Do you really think me gullible enough to believe you'd actually hold up your end of that bargain?” Spender asked, a grin slowly spreading across his cracked lips.

Mulder raised his gun, first pointing it at the guard and then at Spender, all the while trying to keep the panic that threatened to boil over under wraps.

“Mulder,” Scully whispered, pleading to catch his attention. “It's okay.”

“That's sweet, truly,” Spender said, pressing the gun harder against William’s side. “The fact you believe you have a choice. It's simple, Fox. You let me and your boy get out of here unscathed, and I let your precious Agent Scully live. But if you don't, my friend here will put a bullet through her as you watch. Think of it as an insurance policy,” he said, ducking his head and lowering his voice for full dramatic effect. “Now tell me, Agent Mulder. Do we have a deal?”

#msr #william #txf #fanfic #precipice