Resistance 04: Keeping

Title:  Resistance  1.04 Keeping

Author:  Vickie Moseley

Summary:  It's 2012.  William Vande Kamp knows more than his parents think he knows.  He's about to embark on an adventure that will change his life forever.

Category:  Mytharc, Williamfic, pre and post colonization

Rating: E for everybody

Disclaimer:  Well, it got pretty darned hard to make it sound like something a 12 year old kid would buy into, but I made him psychic, so that helped.  Otherwise, I sure don't intend to infringe on that mangled mess that was S8 and S9 and don't even want to infringe on the good stuff in S1 through S7.

Archive:  yes

Undying Gratitude: to Lisa for beta and pictures and general 'you can do this' encouragement.  To DanaKScully for unconditional support and enthusiasm, even when it meant waiting a little longer for another story I was working on.

Author's notes:  this is a series.  It's not really a WIP, because I plan on keeping it going for a while.  I bow to DonnaH, who has blazed one heck of a trail before me with both After the Future and Goodbyes/Hellos.  I take a slightly different route.  This is part one of I don't know how many.  The first section, Resistance 1 has five parts.  I'll post a part a day for one week.  The story and Lisa's wonderful artwork are available at my website http://vickiemoseley.freeservers.com

Hours later I awoke to my sandwich, a can of Crush, and my freshman class picture on CNN Headline News.  There was an Amber Alert out for me.  My adopted parents had reported me kidnapped.

Mom was sitting, pale and with a really unreadable expression, staring at the report on the television screen.  Peggy was over in the corner of the room, as far away from us as she could get, reading a book.  She would glance up at me, chew on her lip and then go back to the book, but I knew she wasn't really reading it.  She was hiding behind it.

"I want to know everything," Mom said in a voice I'm pretty sure she'd used before, maybe when she was with the FBI.

I sat up and tried to wipe the sleep out of my eyes.  "Can I eat -- "

"Eat and talk," she demanded.  I swallowed and took a bite out of the sandwich.  What do you do when your mother tells you to talk with your mouth full?  I chewed twice, swallowed the lump down my throat that wasn't only the bite of sandwich and started.

"I've known about you all my life," I explained.

"Your parents told you," she asked, softening her tone for a split second before going back to a really good imitation of 'Bad Cop'.  I kept wishing the 'Good Cop' would show up and save me, but then I realized he was still in ICU.  I was very much on my own.

"No, they told me you died when I was born and that Dad was executed in prison.  That he'd murdered a soldier and was put to death by lethal injection."

She shuddered when I said that and I regretted telling her at all.  "So why did you come to believe anything different?"

"My dreams," I told her.  She cocked her head.  Geez, this woman was a hard case!  This woman, my Mom.  "All my life I have had these dreams.  First they were about a lady with red hair.  I could see the red."  She nodded.  "No, you don't understand, I could tell it was red.  I can't see red when I'm awake.  I'm red-green colorblind."

That made her bite her lip but she nodded for me to go on.

"That lady was you.  Later, I saw this man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.  I didn't know what hazel eyes were; I had to ask my mom about them.  My other mom," I added quickly.  I already considered this woman to be my mother; it was hard to speak of the woman who'd raised me.

"So I just dreamed about him for a while.  And then I could see things.  Every day life kind of things, like you making him dinner when he came home late.  And then I saw her," I pointed to Peggy, who hid behind her book again even though I knew she was listening.  "I saw Dad pick her up and put her on his shoulders and call her 'Peg o' my Heart'.  And I heard you, even though you didn't say a word, I heard you call out for me.  For me and Emily."

Tears were coming fast from her eyes now and I wanted to go over and hug her, but I wasn't halfway done with my explanation yet.

"I met Gibson on the internet.  He told me he knew me, that he knew you, too.  I wanted him to tell me where you were, but he said it wasn't time.  And I started having nightmares, nightmares from Dad about the time the aliens took him and tortured him.  Gibson tried to explain those to me.  Then, a couple of days ago I was in the shower and I had this vision while I was wide-awake of being in an ambulance and you were begging me to hold on.  But it wasn't me, I knew that.  It was Dad.  I was seeing it through Dad's eyes.  That had never happened before unless I was dreaming.  So I had to get to you.  I knew, I knew Dad was in trouble.  So I got on line and Gibson had emailed me.  He just said it was time."

OK, by this time I was crying again and it was hard to talk around the sandwich so I gave up and just started sipping the Crush when my throat would close up.

"So I took my baling money and I got a ticket to New Mexico to meet up with Gibson.  And he drove me here to El Paso.  And you know everything else."  I decided not to go into the part where Gibson told me all about my mom and dad's life before and after I was born and how she put me up for adoption to keep me safe.  She already knew all that and it still hurt that they didn't keep me.

Mom looked up at the television.  The reporter was back on. 

"Twelve year old William Vande Kamp was believed to have been taken from outside Cornland High School at just a little after 7 am on Thursday morning.  Police say no ransom demands have been made but a search of William's computer files have determined that he had become involved with extremists who believe in the existence of extraterrestrials.  One man, Gibson Praise of Weed Hope, New Mexico, is being sought in connection with William's disappearance.  Again, if anyone has seen this boy, please contact the Cornland Nebraska Police Department, the Nebraska State Police, or the FBI.  Those numbers are appearing at the bottom of the screen."

Mom had a hand to her mouth and was just staring at the television. 

"Mom.  I had to come.  Dad needed me.  You saw that.  He woke up for me.  I had to come here," I said and hated that my voice kept cracking and it sounded all whiny.  "Please, Mom, say something."

"We have to call them," she said evenly.

"No!" I cried out.  "No, they'll take me back!  Mom, I don't want to go back there!  This is where I belong now.  Like Gibson said, it's time.  They are coming, Mom.  Dad knows it, we talked about it."

"He had a ET tube down his throat, William," she spat out.

I was really scared now.  I expected her to believe me but she didn't.  How could I make her believe?  I had to get her to understand.  "No Mom, we talked on a beach. Our minds connected. We talked on a beach right next to this big sandcastle.  I helped him build it.  He told me that I helped him build it, before I was even conceived.  Mom, he said they were coming.  That's why he fell at the construction site.  He got a jolt, a shock, something from them and he fell and got hurt.  Mom, you have to believe me!"

"William, those poor people, those people are worried sick about you!"

"Mom, yeah, they were nice to me, but I don't belong there!  You know that!  Even Peggy knows that, for Christ's sake!"

"William!" she shouted and I shut up, realizing I probably stepped over a line there.  It got real quiet, with just the reporter droning on about $100 a barrel oil prices and $6 a gallon gas.  Sometime during our talk both Mom and I stood up and I realized she probably thought I was a hard case and needed to go back to the farm if that was how I acted.  I sat down and silently ate my sandwich, which tasted really dry and was hard to swallow.  I'd emptied my Crush already.

She paced a little bit, but said nothing.  A nurse came to the door; we were the only ones in the lounge at that time of night.  She smiled at us.  "Mrs. Mulder, you can go back and see your husband now."  Peggy got up, wide-eyed and staring at first Mom and then me like we might burst into flames.  Mom took her hand and smiled at her and then reached over and held her hand out for me. 

"Let's go see Dad," she said.  "We'll discuss this later."

I started breathing again.  I took her hand and smiled at her.  We walked to the door, the three of us.

"You look just like that boy on TV," the nurse said with a smile and a shake of her head.

"Really?" Mom said, sounding casual but surprised.  She looked at me, as if trying to compare.  "I don't really see that much resemblance.  Must be the haircut.  William, I told you to get it cut when you were home a few weeks ago."

"As soon as we know Dad's OK, Mom.  I promise!" I said, for benefit of the nurse.  That was too easy.  I knew the next person would be harder to convince.  And the person after that.  But then, maybe the aliens would get here and save me from going back to the farm.  Talk about being between a rock and a hard place!

There was a light on in Dad's cubicle now, a light behind the bed.  He still looked pretty gruesome; you could see the bruises on his face that were hidden by the tube and the shadows before.  It made my cheeks hurt to look at him.  But Mom was smiling and ran her finger across his forehead.  He opened his eyes and did a sort of half-smile, half-grimace.  Mom found a cup on the tray table and feed him something.  I figured out after a minute it was crushed ice.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Like I should have watched that first step," he croaked out.  I couldn't believe he could joke at a time like this, but Mom seemed to take it in stride.  She just smirked at him and shook her head.  He looked over at Peggy and gave her a smile.  "How's my Peg-leg?"

"Fine, Daddy," she said with a giggle.  "Daddy, did you see who's here?  It's William!" 

Finally he looked over at me.  He reached out his hand and I stepped forward to take it.  At first I thought he was just shaking my hand but then he tugged a little and before I knew it I was hugging him and crying just like I had with Mom. 

"Son, I've missed you so much," he whispered in my ear.  "God, you have no idea how much I've missed seeing you grow up."

"It's OK, Dad.  I'm here now.  It's going to be OK."  I really believed that, when I had his arms around me.  Even with the edge of his cast sticking me in the back.

When he let me go, I stood up and walked to the door so I could wipe my eyes.  Mom took my place by the side of the bed, holding his hand.  "Mulder, you need to get some rest.  I'm going to take the kids home for the night and we'll be back again tomorrow, OK?"

"Scully, how did William get here?" Dad asked, but his eyes were already glazing over like he was really doped up.  I knew it wouldn't be long before he was out like a light.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, when you've had some sleep."  She leaned over and kissed him first on the forehead and then on the lips.  "I love you.  I'll see you in the morning."

" . . . love you, too," he muttered and was asleep before our eyes.

"OK, you two, we're going home.  And William, we will finish our discussion from the lounge."  I suddenly knew what the criminals must have felt like when Mom took them into custody.  It wasn't a very good feeling.

We walked out to the parking lot and Mom led us to an older minivan, but one in good condition.  It was a lot newer than the pick up truck we had on the farm.  Mom unlocked the doors and Peggy got in the back, strapping herself in her seatbelt.  I sat down and after Mom stared at me, I put my own seatbelt on.  I was never that good at remembering to do that.

It wasn't a long drive to their house.  It was in a neighborhood of small houses, some of the cars were pretty old, but none of the houses looked in bad shape.  Mom pulled the car into the driveway and under a carport.  We all went in the back door.

It was funny, I recognized the kitchen.  I'd been dreaming of it for a couple of years.  "How long have you lived here?" I asked Peggy, hoping Mom was far enough ahead that she wouldn't turn that 'bad cop' routine on me again, at least for a while.

Peggy thought for a minute.  "I had my sixth birthday here," she said.  "That was two years ago."

"Your room is that way," I told her pointing down the hall off the kitchen.  "And Mom and Dad's room is on the other side.  The bathroom is there, and the TV room is there," I said, pointing to doors.

"Where do I keep my diary?" she challenged with her arms crossed in front of her.

I thought hard for a little bit.  "I have no idea," I admitted.

"And we're going to keep it that way," she said in a huff and hurried down the hallway to her room.  "I'm going to feed 'Tribble', Mommy," she called out over her shoulder.

Mom appeared out of nowhere with a blanket, pillows and some sheets.  "We can make up the couch in the TV room," she said, heading in that direction.

That room was the room I remembered best.  I could see Dad, lying on the couch with the remote in his hand, watching TV.  Mom would be curled up at the end of the couch with his feet in her lap.  She was always reading a book.  Sometimes Dad would have Peggy on his lap and Peggy would be reading to him.  It was a happy place, a place with good memories, even if I only saw them from afar. 

"William, I don't want you to take this the wrong way.  God knows I'm so torn right now.  I've thought of you every day since I gave you up.  I've prayed for twelve years that we would find a way to get you back with us."  She had been pacing, but she stopped and sat down on the couch.  She motioned for me to sit down beside her.  "But this, running away like this, this is wrong.  This is not the way to go about it."

"Mom," I said, trying to think of what I could say to convince her.  "I didn't plan to run away.  I haven't been sitting there in Nebraska thinking of a way to get here.  I was happy with my dreams," I told her, and for the most part, that was true.  "But Mom, you know there is something big about to happen.  And my place isn't in Nebraska.  It's with you."

"William, this talk of aliens -- "

"Mom!  You know they're real!" I cried in exasperation.  "I know you know that!  They took your husband!  You saw what they did to him.  Mom, they took you!"

"The military -- "

"Mom, Gibson told me everything," I said, breaking in before she could get up to full rant.  She stared at me, angry for a moment, then her face started to crumble and the tears started to fall.

"I didn't want it to be true.  I heard what he said in the pueblo and the date for colonization and I didn't want it to be true," she said, covering her face with her hands.

"I don't want it to happen, either, Mom," I said quietly.  "I saw Dad's dreams.  A lot of people are going to die.  But we don't have to be with them."

"Your parents?  Your other parents?"

For the first time it hit me.  I realized what was going to happen.  If the aliens did attack, and I knew it was more of when than if, most likely my family would die in the initial assault.  My mom would have survived cancer only to die a fiery death.  I couldn't help it, I started to cry.

I found myself in my mother's arms again for the second time that day.  "It's OK, William.  It's going to be all right.  We'll call them.  We can warn them."

"They won't listen," I sobbed.  "Dad will never listen.  He doesn't believe in that science fiction stuff."

"Then we'll make him listen.  You won't be doing this alone.  I promise."

Peggy appeared at the door looking scared.  "Mommy, you better look at the TV," she told us.

"Margaret, I don't like you watching TV in your room before bedtime," Mom said sternly, but found the remote and switched on the set. 

"Channel 16," Peggy said, and watched as the screen flickered to life.

It was CNN again.  But instead of my picture, it was a burning building.  I stared at the screen, finally getting down on my knees so I could get very close.  "Oh God," I said, "oh God, no!"

As the wind shifted and the smoke cleared, leaving only flames, I saw that it wasn't a building on fire.  It was my home.  My home in Nebraska!

"Mom, Dad?" I cried as I watched the flames cover the roof and lick out my bedroom window.

Mom turned up the volume.  It was a different reporter than before.  " . . . authorities believe the fire was arson.  The owners of the house, John and Silvia Vande Kamp were in the house when the blaze started.  Both victims died of smoke inhalation -- "

I didn't hear the rest over my sobs.

To be continued.

Home