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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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And We Remain (1/2)
by shannono
shannono@iname.com

==========

Category: Story, Angst, Mulder/Scully UST/Romance

Rated: PG

Spoilers through "The End"

Summary: Following the destruction of the X-files office, Mulder 
and Scully embark on an investigation into his family's history --
and the changing dynamics of their personal relationship.

==========

Author's notes: This is my one-and-only solo novel-length story as
I write this note (in October 1999), and I have no idea when or if
I might ever finish another. This story was posted as a WIP during
early June of 1998, and finishing it was exhilarating for someone
who writes mostly in the under-20K range. I hope you enjoy reading
it as much as I did writing it.

In this version, besides changing the author name, I have made a 
few revisions to the story here and there, most notably moving 
Scully back out of Annapolis and into her current place in Georgetown.
This location makes more sense for her anyway, and she was obviously 
living there when the events of the movie took place, so I decided
I'd rather use it here.

Thanks: To Kris/Katwoman, for editing. :)

==========


========
Prologue
========

When he finally moved and I could see his eyes, they were the
color of hardened steel, a shade of flat, greyish brown I had
never seen before.

Dead. Empty.

Beyond sorrow. Beyond fear. Beyond rage.

Beyond feeling.

Mulder had climbed somewhere deep inside that already tortured
psyche of his and wrapped every defense he had around himself. I
had no doubt that, had he not looked down, he would have never
known I was clinging to him like he was the only thing holding
me up.

Because he was.

Oh, Mulder. I know. I know what you're doing, and why. I did the
same thing, not so long ago. You think that if you insulate
yourself, the pain can't reach you. But it doesn't work, not for
long. Eventually, it'll seep in through the cracks, or something
will happen to bring it all back out at once.

And then, it's even worse.

I can't let him do this.

"Mulder," I say, my voice as shaky as I feel.

He doesn't respond, his blank gaze moving across the ruins of his
life's work, his eyes reacting only by reflex to the flashing blue
and red lights from outside. So I try again.

"Mulder," I repeat, my voice stronger, although not by much. I
reach up and lay a trembling hand along his jaw, drawing his head
toward me and down so I can really look at him.

Gradually, his eyes follow the movement of his head and meet mine.
It's all I can do not to flinch away at the ... nothingness I see
there. But I persist, holding him in my gaze.

And for just a second, something flashes across those eyes. A
glint of color, a vivid green; a spark of emotion.

I hope it's me that's evoked the response.

Before I can say a word, though, he's moved away, just a step,
turning his attention toward the blackened, still-smoking filing
cabinets behind his desk. My hand falls away from his face but
instinctively drops to catch his hand. I can't let him go, not
now.

He ignores my grasp, or accepts it; I'm not sure which. But he
doesn't pull away, or push me away, so I hold on.

He takes another half-step, and I move with him, staying close at
his side, still searching his face, in profile. His eyes continue
to move back and forth, slowly. I have the feeling that he's
memorizing the scene.

As if he'd ever forget it. As if either of us will.

My line of vision drops to the cabinets as my other hand glides
up to wrap around our entwined fingers, my thumb brushing across
the back of his hand. We don't move for minutes, hours; I'm not
sure. Time has lost all meaning.

I can only hope our lives have not.

Eventually, reality seeps in. I become aware again of the flashing
lights, the sound of dripping water, voices from the hall. I look
up at him again to find his eyes closed, squeezed shut against the
scene before him. But he's still seeing it, I know. We'll both be
seeing it in our nightmares, both sleeping and waking, for the
rest of our lives.

I tug softly on his hand where we are still meshed together, and
he allows me to turn him away from the sooty mess. His eyes remain
tightly closed, but even as his face comes fully back into my
sight, a single tear works its way through and traces a line down
his cheek.

My hands are occupied, so without even thinking about my actions,
I lift myself on tiptoe and brush the salty water away with my
lips, my eyes sliding shut. Then realization dawns, and I freeze
with my mouth still hovering near his cheek, his breath fanning
the hair above my ear.

I jerk back slightly as my eyes fly open, and I am captured by
his. Deep, dark green, centered with huge black pupils. I know
he's looking at me, but I wonder, dimly, if he can see me clearly
at all.

We are so close that we are breathing each other's breath.

I shudder, involuntarily, and will myself to move away. This is
*not* what we need, not now.

But then I feel his free hand touch its familiar spot at the back
of my waist, this time to pull me in to him, and I can't deny him.
He needs to feel again, and I know I can give him that.

So I melt against him, lowering my feet back flat against the
floor and closing the gap between us. I leave one hand entwined
with his and move the other to the center of his chest, placing my
palm flat against him so I can feel the beating of his heart. I
lean forward, stretching up slightly to settle my lips against the
crook between his neck and shoulder, and flutter tiny kisses
there.

His breath wooshes across the top of my head, and his head drops
back slightly as his grip on my waist tightens. I can feel every
inch of his body against mine, solid and welcoming, and I touch
my lips to him again, this time with an open mouth against the
edge of his collarbone, just at the neckline of his T-shirt.

A small groan escapes him at this, and I feel his head lower to
mine, his cheek nuzzling against my hair. I pause, waiting. I'm
not sure what to do next.

And then I hear him, his voice broken and fuzzy. "Scully ..." he
whispers, both an entreaty and a warning in his tone. <We can't do
this, not now.>

My heart breaks again for this man's pain.

Why can't anything be easy for us?

Slowly, so slowly, I lower my head and rest my cheek next to my
hand where it still lies against his chest.

And we remain.


===================
Chapter One: Return
===================

Emergency Room
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
Washington, D.C.
Friday, May 22, 1998
4:45 a.m.

Wearily, registered nurse Carol Jenkins headed for Trauma Room 2
to make sure it was clean and ready for the next patient. She
walked through the door, and stopped in shock. The room was
supposed to be empty, but in the center of the floor sat a
stretcher containing a young woman, apparently unconscious.

Without thinking any further about it, Carol took the three steps
to the stretcher and immediately checked for a pulse. Weak and
rapid; breathing steady but shallow.

"Hey! I need some help in here!" Carol yelled. Almost immediately,
a younger nurse appeared in the door, and her face registered the
same shock Carol was sure her own had displayed when she entered
the room.

"Get Dr. Miller!" Carol said sharply, turning back to her
preliminary evaluation of the patient. "No visible injuries, no
significant fever," she muttered to herself. She looked around
for a chart but saw none. "What the hell ..." she muttered again.

A few moments later, a lanky and very young-looking man wearing
hospital scrubs walked into the room and gaped at the sight which
greeted him. "Who admitted this woman?" he asked, even as he
joined Carol's evaluation of her condition.

The younger nurse had followed him in. "I don't know, Dr. Miller,"
she answered. "I'll go ask Freddy." She shot back out the door.

Dr. Miller looked at Carol as he continued checking the patient.
"What the hell is going on around here?" he asked.

"I don't know, Ted," she responded. "This room was supposed to be
empty, but when I came in, she was just ... here." She reached for
the woman's jeans. "Let me check her pockets and see if there's an
I.D.," she said.

"And get someone to call the police," the doctor added.

"Anna!" Carol called as she reached into the woman's pocket and
pulled out a slip of paper. The younger nurse reappeared almost
immediately, and Carol continued, "Call the police and tell them
we need a cop down here as soon as possible." As she finished
speaking, she looked down at the cheap "in case of emergency"
card in her hand. "Well, looks like we have an I.D.," she said,
showing the card to Dr. Miller.

He looked at the card, then jokingly asked, "What kind of name is
Mulder?"

==========
5:31 a.m.

Fox Mulder awoke with a start, his heart pounding. The sensation
itself was nothing new; he woke often in much the same manner,
usually several times a night. But this time was different,
because he had no idea where he was or what he was doing there.

The nightmare was a bad one this time, and the images were still
branded on his mind. His one real fear, destroying his life's
work, the one thing he'd been able to count on.

Well, that, and Scully, of course.

At that thought, he realized he was on a sofa, but one much softer
than he was used to. Then hearing and sight returned, and he
picked up the low sound and light coming from a television across
the room.

His sense of smell hit next, and the faded but still acrid stench
of smoke filled his nostrils.

And he remembered.

It was no dream.

He sat up slowly, pushing off the blanket which covered him from
the waist down and taking in the now-familiar surroundings. He was
in Scully's living room, lit only by the television and the glow
of a streetlight from outside. He still wore the old T-shirt and
jeans from the night before, and his battered running shoes were
placed neatly near the end of the sofa.

He perched on the edge of the cushions, his elbows on his knees,
and rubbed his hands over his face.

What now?

Still moving slowly, he eased himself to his feet and padded
across the floor toward the bathroom, careful to make no noise
that might rouse Scully. He used the toilet, then pulled a
washcloth from the towel rack, wet it, and rubbed down his face
and neck. He needed a shower, but he wasn't about to take that
liberty without asking Scully. Besides, he really should change
clothes, too, so he figured it could wait until he got home.

Mulder stepped to the door and pulled it open, then froze. Scully
stood there, her robe pulled haphazardly around her, her eyes red
from crying, her hair tousled.

She still looked beautiful.

She gazed up at him, and his memory flashed back to the hallway of
an Allentown hospital. Without even thinking, he opened his arms
and enveloped her, pulling her into the doorway. She didn't even
stiffen, as he was afraid she might, and he felt her slide her
arms around his waist and nestle her head against his chest.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his chin to rest on top of her head,
feeling the tears he'd been fighting begin anew.

They stood there, clinging to their only remaining hope, and cried
for their newest loss.

Together.

==========
6:02 a.m.

Mulder and Scully sat side by side on the sofa, her legs curled up
beside her, his left arm around her shoulders, their right hands
joined and resting on his left leg. They had moved there from
their earlier embrace, their crying at an end but neither willing
to let the other go quite yet.

Finally, Scully pushed herself upright, giving his hand one last
squeeze before breaking their contact. Standing, she looked down
at him. "Coffee?" she said.

He shot her a half-smile. "Definitely," he answered, and she
turned and headed into the kitchen.

Mulder got up as well and followed her. She ran her hands through
her hair as she walked, bringing it into some semblance of order,
then reached for her coffeepot and set about serving some
caffeine.

Mulder pulled out a chair and sat at her kitchen table, his eyes
following her as she got out coffee mugs, spoons, creamer and
sugar. She added a couple of cereal bars from a box in her
cabinet, dividing the items between the table in front of him and
the spot in front of the chair next to his.

Mulder spoke first. "I think I need a shower," he said. "I still
reek of smoke."

She flashed him a look. "Yeah, so do I," she said. "After we eat,
I'll take a quick one and then take you to your place. Okay?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I *know* I need some clean clothes."

Scully turned back to the coffee, just then ready, and then came
to the table and poured their cups, setting the pot on a trivet
in the center of the table. They fixed their cups and ate and
drank quickly.

Scully finished first and stood, stopping to set her cup in the
sink. "I'll be out in about 15 minutes," she said, then
disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom.

Mulder forced himself not to think about her in the shower so
nearby and instead put his own cup in the sink, then returned
to the living room and started channel surfing.

==========
2360 Hegal Place
Alexandria, Virginia
7:12 a.m.

Scully pulled up in front of Mulder's building and shut off the
car. He'd barely spoken a word since their semi-breakfast, and
she was worried.

So what else is new? she thought sarcastically, then immediately
was ashamed of herself.

Opening her car door, she stepped out and was relieved to see
Mulder doing the same. Glancing to her left, she saw his car
still sitting where he had parked it the afternoon before.

Turning toward Mulder, she saw him looking in the same direction,
his own relief evident not on his face but in his body language.
He'd been worried that their homes or cars would be next, she
knew. But apparently, whoever had burned the office was finished.

At least, for the moment.

Scully started to follow Mulder inside, but he stopped her with a
hand on her shoulder. "Scully, please don't take this the wrong
way," he said. "But I think you should go back home and try to get
some more rest. And, well ... I really think I need to be alone,
just for a while."

Scully was surprised, not so much at what he wanted, but that he
was being so gentle in telling her. She studied his face, feeling
the warmth from his hand radiate down her arm, and nodded
slightly. "Okay, Mulder," she said. "But promise me you won't go
anywhere without at least calling me. I'll be calling later to
check on you."

"I promise," he said, pulling her toward him into a quick hug and
dropping a soft kiss on the top of her head. "And the same goes
for you," he added.

She returned the hug with one arm and said, "Deal."

They pulled apart, smiling softly at each other, and then Scully
walked back around the car and climbed in. Starting the car, she
looked up to see him standing on the front stoop, watching her.

She smiled again, waved, and drove away.

==========
9:32 a.m.

Once he got inside, Mulder had managed to shower but hadn't done
anything else other than throw on clean sweats and a T-shirt and
flop onto the sofa. To his own surprise, he was actually dozing
when the phone rang.

His eyes still closed, he groped for the receiver, expecting it to
be Scully. He punched the "talk" button and answered with his
standard "Mulder."

A few seconds later, he was sitting upright, wide awake, his eyes
huge. A couple of "uh-huhs" later, he hung up, threw on his shoes,
grabbed his coat, cell phone, I.D., and gun, and was out the door.

The message light on his answering machine blinked steadily in his
wake.

==========
Scully's apartment
9:41 a.m.

Scully almost let her machine get the phone when it rang, she was
so comfortable in her hot bath. But it could be Mulder, and she
had, after all, brought the receiver into the bathroom with her.
So, she picked it up and said "Hello?"

"Sc ... Scully." Mulder's voice was so choked she could barely
recognize it.

"Mulder?" she said, already climbing out of her tub to dry off.
"Mulder, what's wrong?"

"S ... it's Samantha," he said. Scully could hear noise in the
background and realized he was in his car -- and driving way too
fast, from the sounds of it.

Samantha?? her mind screamed at her, but she ignored that for
the moment and concentrated on her partner. "Mulder, where are
you?" she said, pulling on her robe and heading for the bedroom
to get dressed.

"In the car," he rasped. "Going to ... hospital ... Northeast
Georgetown ..." his voice trailed off.

Scully's heart clenched. Oh, God, she thought. The same hospital
where she had turned up after her abduction. He's re-living it,
she realized. Out loud, she said, "I'll meet you there, Mulder.
Please be careful."

"God, Scully," he moaned. "Saman ..." he couldn't finish the word.

"Mulder, you have to calm down," she said soothingly, pulling on
jeans as she talked. "Slow down a little or you won't get there.
It'll be okay."

"Scully," he repeated. "God, Scully."

"I'll be there in 15 minutes," she said. "I'm going to hang up now
so I can leave. Okay?"

"'Kay," he answered, and the connection was broken.

Scully slipped on her sneakers, then quickly brushed out her hair,
grabbed her purse, and hooked her gun on her waistband under her
loose shirt. She picked up her cell phone on her way out, and
immediately began dialing Skinner's office number.

==========
Emergency Room
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
10:02 a.m.

It took Scully almost exactly 15 minutes to make it to the
hospital, and she rushed through the emergency room doors, her
badge already in hand. She stepped to the counter, holding the
badge up, and said, "I'm looking for Samantha Mulder."

"Ms. Mulder is being moved to the ICU," the man behind the counter
replied.

"Is her brother here? Fox Mulder?" Scully asked.

"I believe he is with her," the man answered. "Excuse me, but are
you family?"

"I'm Mulder's partner," Scully answered, but before she could go
any further, she heard a noise and turned to see a stretcher being
brought out of one of the trauma rooms. Mulder walked beside it,
his eyes glued to the woman it held.

"Mulder," Scully said, and his head snapped up. His eyes met hers,
and she was stunned at the look she saw there. Raw pain, fury, and
love battled for the upper hand, and she knew he was close to
losing control.

She hurried to his side, ignoring the protests from behind her,
and reached for his hand. She bit back a yelp as he took hold with
a death grip, as if she was the only thing keeping him from
falling off a cliff.

Because she was.

Silently, they followed the stretcher to the elevator, where the
orderly held up a hand. "Sorry, you'll have to take the main
elevator," he said, pointing to another set of doors a few feet
down the hall.

Scully had to reach with her other hand to restrain Mulder. "Come
on, Mulder," she said. "It's just for a minute."

His eyes never left the woman on the stretcher, but he nodded,
almost imperceptibly. He stayed frozen in place until after the
elevator doors closed, then he slowly turned and gradually focused
on Scully. He still hadn't said a word, but within moments, his
face and body crumpled, and Scully wrapped her arm around him to
help him stay on his feet.

Mulder gasped for air as Scully whispered to him, trying to calm
him enough to get him in the elevator. After a minute or so, his
breathing evened out, and he slowly straightened, although his
grip on Scully's hand didn't loosen.

Scully smoothed her free hand across Mulder's face, wiping away
the few tears that had escaped his eyes, then guided him into the
visitors' elevator.

==========
ICU waiting room
10:37 a.m.

Scully and Mulder sat close together on a short sofa, still
holding tightly to each others' hands. Mulder remained silent,
and his eyes were glued to the room's entrance, waiting for word
on his sister.

For her part, Scully was a mixture of relieved, confused, and
angry. For some reason she didn't dare consider, she felt sure
this was Mulder's sister, although she'd want to do complete DNA
testing to be absolutely sure.

But it was Mulder's reactions that concerned her. He was scared,
and worried, but he didn't seem to be surprised to see his sister.
After more than 25 years, she thought he'd be more awestruck at
the sight -- despite the clone encounter a few years back, which
might have dulled his natural reaction with wariness, she
conceded.

But more than anything, Scully was mad. She knew this was part of
the "plan" Mulder had referred to; the timing was just too
convenient to be coincidence. Whoever had orchestrated the past
few days, up to and including the burning of the X-files, had set
this up as a final blow.

Or as a distraction. What better way to keep them from immediately
going after the arsonist, or Gibson, or both? Maybe even to keep
them from trying to salvage the remains of their office?

A sudden movement outside the door caught Scully's attention, and
she felt Mulder tense as a shadow fell across the floor. She
readied herself to fire questions at any doctor or nurse who
appeared -- but instead, the person who walked in was their boss.

Skinner looked as if he'd slept no more than they had, Scully
noted with amazement. Other than a few times when he'd been
injured, the A.D. had always looked alert and ready for action,
even after days with little or no sleep.

But now, he looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and
his usually pristine suit and dress shirt a bit wrinkled. His
shoulders were ever-so-slightly lowered, but compared to his
usually stiff military posture, he might as well have been slumped
halfway over.

Scully found herself wondering if his walls were cracking as well.
He looked ... for want of a better word, she thought ... old.

Skinner stopped just inside the doorway, looking at them. Mulder
relaxed only slightly; his appearance didn't change, but Scully
felt the muscles against her shift.

No one spoke for long moments, and soon Scully felt she should
break the spell. She cleared her throat softly, then said, "Sir?"

Skinner's eyes shifted to focus on hers, and she nearly jumped at
the blind rage she saw there. He was barely under control himself.

She wondered briefly who he had to lean on.

Before she could speak again, though, Skinner moved toward them,
lowering himself into a chair across from them with a sigh.
Mulder's eyes followed him for a moment, then returned to the
doorway.

Scully's gaze lingered on Mulder, but she then turned her
attention to the A.D. "Sir," she said. "Thank you for coming." He
nodded, just slightly, and she continued, "Have you heard
anything new?"

Skinner blew out another breath. "No," he said bluntly. "I've got
several carefully selected men guarding your office, with strict
orders to let no one in other than the three of us. And that's
with our official identification, not on visuals," he added.

Scully nodded once. "Thank you, sir," she said, mindful of the
imposters she and Mulder had each encountered in the past. She
paused, then said, "Sir, I'd like to order a complete DNA analysis
to confirm that this is really Samantha."

Skinner nodded again. "Do you think it's her, Agent Scully?" he
asked, pinning her with his eyes.

Scully held his gaze. "Yes, sir, I do," she answered. "And so
does Mulder."

Before Skinner could respond, another figure appeared at the door,
this one a young woman wearing hospital scrubs. "Mr. Mulder?" she
asked, looking back and forth between the two men.

Mulder opened his mouth. "I'm ..." he rasped, then cleared his
throat and tried again. "I'm Mulder."

The woman stepped toward him. "Mr. Mulder, I'm Doctor Griffin,"
she said. "I'd like to talk to you about your sister."

Skinner started to rise. "I'll wait outside," he said.

Mulder's head snapped around. "No, sir, please stay," he said.

Skinner paused, then nodded again and returned to his seat.

Dr. Griffin watched the exchange in silence, then turned her
attention to Scully, a question evident on her face. But she
glanced down at the partners' intertwined hands, and obviously
thought better of asking.

"Mr. Mulder," she started, pulling up a straight-backed chair and
sitting close to them. "We have your sister listed in critical
condition. She is in a coma, although we can find no evidence of
internal or external trauma. Her breathing is a bit shallow but
steady, and her vital signs are within normal ranges. We have
ordered bloodwork to try to determine a cause for her condition,
but in the meantime, all we can do is keep her on intravenous
nutrients."

Mulder's eyes had closed as the doctor spoke, but Scully kept her
gaze riveted on the woman, soaking in all the information. As soon
as the woman stopped speaking, Scully asked, "Has she been
examined for trace evidence?"

She felt the jolt go through Mulder as she spoke, and heard him
gasp. She and Dr. Griffin both looked at him. His eyes were wide
open but unseeing, his breathing was rapid and shallow, and he'd
broken out in a cold sweat.

Scully had no idea what had caused this reaction, unless it was
simply shock. She immediately released his hands and laid her
palms on either side of his face to hold him still. His pupils
were dilated, and he was beginning to shiver.

Scully and Dr. Miller spoke almost in unison: "He's going into
shock." Dr. Miller raised her eyebrows at Scully, who quickly
said, "I'm a doctor," as she placed her fingers against his wrist
to check his pulse.

Dr. Miller nodded once, said, "I'll get a blanket," then
disappeared out the door.

Scully glanced at Skinner as Mulder began to slump against her.
"Sir, help me, please," she said.

The A.D. jumped up, then followed Scully's gestures and helped her
settle Mulder more securely on the sofa. Dr. Miller returned as
they finished, and Scully took the blanket she offered and tucked
it around Mulder, then sat next to him on the edge of the sofa and
took his hand again.

Dr. Miller turned to Skinner. "I'll be glad to come back in a
little while," she said. "Is there any other family to be
notified?"

Scully's head snapped around, her eyes huge. "Mom," she said
softly. "I haven't even ... she doesn't even know about the fire.
And ... and his mother."

Skinner nodded sharply. "I'll do it," he said. "You keep an eye on
him."

"Thank you, sir," Scully said, turning her attention back to her
partner as the other two left the room.


===================
Chapter Two: Memory
===================

Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
Friday, May 22, 1998
2:25 p.m.

Mulder sat slouched in chair next to his sister's bed, one hand
wrapped around hers where it lay on the mattress. His eyes
were glued to her face, anticipating the moment that her eyes
would reopen.

Scully stood near the entrance to the ICU cubicle, watching him,
and wondering again. She was relieved at his quick recovery from
what had apparently been some type of anxiety attack in the
waiting room a few hours earlier. But he still seemed so ... 
*different*, she thought. She had heard about his reaction when
she turned up in the hospital, had seen his frantic search for
answers when she developed cancer, and again when she found Emily.
She had expected much the same this time.

But there he sat, focused completely on Samantha. He showed no
interest in finding out what had happened to her, where she had
been, how she got here. 

And that worried Scully.

Quietly, she turned and slipped out the ICU unit, then leaned
sideways against the wall next to the double doors, staring off
into space. She wasn't sure what to do. She wanted to stay here
with Mulder, but he barely acknowledged her presence, so consumed
was he by his sister's. She needed to start looking for answers,
since Mulder was so obviously uninterested at this point.

And she still had to think about his mother, and about the DNA
testing they still needed to do.

"Dana." Scully started at the soft voice from behind her and
whirled to face her mother. Mrs. Scully's face was lined with
concern, and she immediately reached out to hug her daughter.

As they pulled apart, Mrs. Scully glanced toward the hospital room
door and then back at Scully. "How is he?" she asked.

Scully slumped back against the wall. "Fine, now, as far as I can
tell," she said. "But I don't know what happened a little while
ago, Mom. We were talking to the doctor, and he just ... freaked
out, I guess. He went into shock, and it took nearly a hour to get
him calmed down. I don't know what set him off."

Mrs. Scully studied her daughter's face. "What, exactly, did the
doctor say?" she asked gently.

Two chairs sat across the hall, so Scully moved to sit in one and
gestured for her mother to take the other. Sighing as they sat,
Scully said, "Dr. Griffin said Samantha is comatose, but that they
find no signs of internal or external trauma. Her breathing and
vitals appear normal, and they just don't know why she's in a
coma."

Mrs. Scully sucked in a breath, then said, "Anything else?"

Scully looked at her, then said, "I asked if she'd been examined
for trace evidence, but then Mulder ..."

"That was it," Mrs. Scully said, closing her eyes and tilting her
head back.

"What?" Scully asked, leaning forward, her anxiety apparent on her
face.

Mrs. Scully brought her head back down and opened her eyes to
reveal tears shining there. "What you asked," she said. "Fox
asked the very same thing about you."

"Oh," Scully said, pain crossing her face. She already knew how
similar this whole episode was to her own return after her
abduction. Now she understood why Mulder had reacted so strongly
to her question.

Mrs. Scully reached to take Scully's hand. "Dana," she said. "You
must realize what this is like for Mulder. You didn't see him when
you were in the hospital. He was nearly hysterical with worry. He
was hurting so much. And all this ..."

"Is reopening those wounds," Scully finished. "I know, Mom. I
knew it when he called me on his way to the hospital. It's just
the same." She drew in a breath, then exhaled and added, "And I
think it may have been planned that way."

Mrs. Scully drew back but didn't release Scully's hand. "Planned?"
she said, incredulous. "Who would plan something like *this*?"

Scully ran her free hand through her hair, avoiding her mother's
probing gaze. "Mom, you know very little about what's happened to
us during the past five years, and I ... well, I really would like
to keep it that way. I don't like having secrets from you, but I
think it's safer, for both of us." She finally turned back to meet
her mother's eyes. "But I just feel like the timing of this ...
it's too *convenient* to be a coincidence, right after the fire." 

Mrs. Scully nodded her agreement. "You're probably right, dear,"
she said. "And I can respect your privacy, so I won't try to get
you to tell me anything you don't want to." She paused, then
added, "And I'm so sorry about the office."

"Thanks, Mom," Scully said, squeezing her hand before releasing it
and standing. "I need to give Skinner a call to check in."

"That won't be necessary." Both women turned at the deep voice
from down the hall and saw the assistant director striding toward
them, his standard serious expression in place. He stopped in
front of them and planted his hands on his hips, nodding at Mrs.
Scully in greeting before turning toward Scully.

"Agent Scully," he said. "I came back by for several reasons.
First, as of now, you and Mulder are on indefinite paid leave of
absence for as long as I can push through. You both have several
weeks of accumulated vacation time, and I can probably extend that
to about a month with administrative leave."

"Thank you, sir," Scully said, surprise evident in her voice.

"I also wanted to say that I will personally be leading the
investigation into the fire," Skinner continued. "I'd like for one
of you to come to the office as soon as possible to catalog any
salvageable items or evidence."

"I can come tomorrow, sir, if that's soon enough," Scully said,
her posture and mannerisms already falling automatically back into
professional-agent mode.

"That will be fine, Agent Scully," he replied. "There is one other
thing -- I have been unable to reach Mrs. Mulder at either of the
numbers in Mulder's personnel file. Do you know of any other
place she might be?"

"I don't know, sir," Scully said, then paused as an idea struck.
"Actually, sir ... the beach house at Quonochontaug is a
possibility. That's where she was when she had her stroke."

Skinner nodded in affirmation. "And where Mulder went last year
when he was ..."

"Not himself," Scully finished quickly, not wanting to linger on
the confrontation they'd endured in the house when he was drugged
and nearly suicidal.

Skinner looked at her sternly for a moment, but didn't comment on
her choice of words. "Do you have the number?" he asked.

"There's no phone, sir," she said. "The house is shut down. I
don't think anyone's lived there for years."

"I'll go there myself," he said. Great, he thought as he
realized why he was making the suggestion -- he didn't trust the
local authorities to do the job. I'm getting as paranoid as these
two.

"Thank you, sir," Scully said again.

Skinner nodded once again before asking, "How are Mulder and his
sister?"

"Samantha is the same," Scully said. "Mulder seems all right now,
but he needs sleep. He hasn't had much all week."

Skinner may have smiled at her words, although Scully couldn't be
completely sure. "I think you may need more luck getting him to
sleep than I'll need in finding his mother," he said, and Scully
half-smiled in agreement, relaxing slightly. He continued, "I'm
going back to check in at the office, and then I'll head to Rhode
Island," he said.

"Yes, sir," Scully said. "And thank you again."

Skinner turned toward Mrs. Scully, dipped his head slightly and
said simply "Ma'am" before turning and walking back down the hall.

Mrs. Scully watched him for a moment, then turned back toward
Scully. "He's a good man," she said.

Scully glanced at his retreating back and nodded in agreement.
"He's done a lot for us," she said, then turned her attention back
to her mother. "I'm going back in to see Mulder, Mom. Would you
like to come in too?"

"I don't want to intrude ..." Mrs. Scully started to decline.

"It's not an intrusion, Mom," Scully said. "I'm sure he'll be glad
to see you."

"All right, then," Mrs. Scully said, standing up and taking
Scully's hand briefly before releasing it.

The two women crossed the hall together, and Scully pushed through
the double doors and walked down to Samantha's cubicle. Mulder
still sat in the same position, although his eyes were now closed
and he appeared to have nodded off.

He's exhausted, Scully thought, but before she could retreat from
the doorway, Mulder's eyes sprang open and darted anxiously around
the room before landing on her.

"Scully," he rasped, then swallowed hard.

"I'm right here, Mulder," Scully answered, crossing to his side
and squatting down next to him, her eyes scanning his tormented
face.

He turned his head to gaze again at his sister. "She ... she's
going to be okay," he said. "She has to be."

Scully reached for his free hand, sliding her fingers through his,
and squeezed slightly. "She will be," she said. "She'll be fine."

A soft sound from the doorway drew their attention to Mrs. Scully,
who was watching them. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll come back
later."

"Mom ..." Scully started.

"No, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said. "Please, come in. Thank you ...
thank you for coming." He swallowed again, then looked back at his
sister.

Mrs. Scully moved slowly to the near side of the bed and took a
seat opposite them, still watching them. Then she turned her
attention to the woman on the bed and was startled at the
resemblance. Samantha's hair was the same shade of chestnut brown
as Mulder's, although it was worn long and curly. Her skin was
pale, but her wide mouth looked so much like her brother's,
although her lips were a bit thinner. She was tall and slim, and
Mrs. Scully could easily imagine her eyes were the same ever-
changing hazel as Mulder's.

She looked back at the pair across from her. Scully was still
crouched next to Mulder's chair with their fingers wrapped
together, and Mulder's other hand still held his sister's. Both
of them were looking at Samantha, although Scully's eyes flicked
back to Mulder's face repeatedly.

Mrs. Scully cleared her throat softly before speaking. "Fox, how
are you doing?" she asked. She wanted to hear from him herself.

Mulder's eyes moved to meet hers, and she recognized the mixture
of despair and hope she had seen there before. "I'm fine, Mrs.
Scully," he answered. "I just ..." His voice trailed off
uncertainly, and his eyes wandered back to land on Samantha.

She understood. He was adrift, with the two women on either side
of him the only thing holding him steady. He was lost.

She only hoped Samantha wouldn't be lost as well. 

==========
Quonochontaug, Rhode Island
11:23 p.m.

Skinner pulled up to the beach house in nearly pitch-black dark.
No lights shone from the house, and the nearest streetlight was
nearly two blocks away. For all intents and purposes, the area
looked deserted.

In the headlights, he could see the garage door was shut, which
could mean either that the place was closed up, or that there was
a car inside. He stepped from the car, picking up a flashlight
from the passenger seat, and headed toward the house, flicking on
the light to guide his path.

Walking up to the front door, he tried the doorbell first but
heard no chime. So he used the intricately-carved antique knocker
next, waited, then just tried an old-fashioned fist-banging-on-
the-wood.

Still no answer.

He tried the door, found it locked, and looked around the porch,
flashing the light along the walls. No other doors, and the
windows were covered with plastic under their screens, as if in
storage.

He headed around the left side of the house toward the water,
checking the walls for other points of entry. The several windows
on that side of the house were also sealed with plastic.

He rounded the corner of the house and caught a flash of white
against the wall. Instinctively, he killed the flashlight and
flattened himself against the house, drawing his weapon. He waited
and, hearing nothing, moved cautiously on.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the dim starlight, and he could
make out the shape of a deck on the back of the house as he
approached. He could see something lying on the deck, although he
couldn't tell if it was a person, an animal, or just a piece of
furniture.

Bracing himself, he lifted his weapon and flashlight, then flicked
the switch on and said, "FBI, don't move!"

No reaction from the figure. Then, he heard a low moan. Stepping
up onto the deck quickly, he trained the light down.

It was Mulder's mother.

Holstering his weapon, Skinner crouched next to her. "Mrs.
Mulder?" asked, reaching across to check her pulse. Weak but
steady, and she appeared to be breathing. Pulling away, he
snatched his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 911.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
1:15 a.m.

Scully hadn't been successful in her single, half-hearted attempt
to convince Mulder to go home and get some sleep -- but, then, she
hadn't really expected that she would be. Instead, she'd pulled
some strings -- and some rank -- and managed to arrange for a cot
to be brought into Samantha's room. She'd settled Mulder down to
sleep for a while, with the promise that she would wake him
immediately if Samantha came out of it.

Now, she had taken Mulder's place, sitting in the bedside chair
her mother had occupied earlier, her gaze shifting intermittently
between Mulder and his sister. Both slept, although Samantha's
breathing, now deep and even, looked much healthier, despite her
uncertain condition, than Mulder's fitful rest. Scully hoped he
would manage to get in at least a few hours; if not, she'd get
him something to help him sleep next time.

Scully leaned back against the chair's high back and closed her
eyes briefly, determined not to fall asleep despite her own
fatigue. She had her cell phone sitting right next to her, on the
bedside table, just in case.

She pulled her head back upright and checked again on the two
people under her watchful care -- the man she cared about more
than anything in this world, and the woman he'd spent a lifetime
searching for.

She was ashamed to realize that, until the morning before, she'd
never truly believed she'd see them in the same room.

She bit back a groan as another round of pain, mingled with
regret, coursed through her. She had followed Mulder for five
years, willingly going through everything he did, taking his pain
on herself, even when he didn't want to let her. But through it
all, she had never really believed his sister was alive. She never
thought Samantha would be found.

Now, here she was. In a hospital bed, with an uncertain prognosis,
but alive.

And with her appearance, Scully's already uprooted life had
scattered around her feet.

She truly did not know what to expect next. When, or if, Samantha
woke up, she didn't know what Mulder would do. Would he leave the
Bureau? <After all, he's found what he'd been searching for all
these years,> she thought.

But then she corrected herself. <No,> she thought. <He found his
sister. But he still doesn't know what really happened to her, or
to me, or any of the other truths he says he's looking for.>

She was startled from her thoughts by the trilling of her cell
phone. She grabbed it and punched the button to answer, but it was
too late -- Mulder was already wide awake and half-sitting up in
the cot, staring at her.

Putting the phone to her mouth, she softly said, "Scully."

"Agent Scully." Skinner's voice came through the line. "I found
Mrs. Mulder, but I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Mulder had risen and was moving back to the chair at the other
side of the bed, and Scully watched him intently as she spoke
into the phone. "What is it?" she said.

"I found her collapsed on the deck at the house," he said. "She's
in the hospital here now. She's still unconscious, but she appears
to be stable. They're running tests to find out what happened."

Scully's eyes never left Mulder's face. "Is it another stroke?"
she said, and his head whipped around toward her. She saw another
round of anguish pass over Mulder's face as he realized what was
happening, and felt an answering pang run through her.

"They don't know yet, but the one nurse I managed to corner a
minute ago didn't think so," Skinner answered. "I'm going to stay
here at least until they get her into a room, and then I'll give
you a call back." He paused, then said, "I don't know if Agent
Mulder will want to come up here ..."

"I don't think so, sir," Scully replied. "But thank you, sir, for
letting us know."

"I'll call," Skinner said, then cut the connection.

Scully shut down the phone and placed it back on the table before
looking back at Mulder. His eyes were back on his sister, but he
asked, softly, "Mom?"

Scully sighed. "She's in the hospital," Scully said. "Skinner
found her collapsed on the deck of the beach house in
Quonochontaug. She's still unconscious but stable, and they don't
think she had another stroke."

Mulder nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Samantha's face.
Scully waited, but he didn't speak again, so she said, "Skinner
wondered if you'd want to go up there ..."

"I can't leave her, Scully," Mulder said strongly, still studying
Samantha's face. "I have to be here when she wakes up."

Not if. When. Scully watched him for a few moments, then nodded
sharply and said, "All right, Mulder. Skinner's going to call
again later to give us an update."

This time, Mulder didn't even react to her words.


====================
Chapter Three: Ashes
====================

Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
Saturday, May 23, 1998
5:58 a.m.

Scully awoke slowly, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings.
She first recognized the smell of a hospital room, then the feel
of the too-narrow cot she lay on.

Opening her eyes to the dimly lit white walls, she carefully
pushed herself upright on the thin mattress and turned toward the
bed. Mulder was still in the chair where he'd been when she
finally laid down a few hours earlier. His hand was again holding
Samantha's, but his head had dropped back against the headrest and
he was dozing.

Scully moved slowly to her feet, taking care not to scrape against
anything that might make a noise. She didn't want to take away a
single minute of the rest her partner so desperately needed.

Checking her watch, she moved silently to the side of the bed
opposite Mulder and scanned the monitors. Samantha's vitals seemed
unchanged, although Scully knew it wouldn't be long before the
nurses would come in to check on her again.

A yawn ambushed her, but she managed to stifle it a bit. She
glanced back at Mulder and saw, with relief, that he still hadn't
moved.

Still moving almost on tiptoe, she slipped across the floor and
out into the hallway. Stepping up to the counter of the nurses'
station, she leaned toward the woman sitting there and asked
softly, "Do you know what time Dr. Griffin will be by on rounds?"

The woman looked up, then nodded slightly. "She'll be by in about
an hour, I think," she answered in an equally low voice. "She
normally starts about seven, and she always visits any ICU
patients first."

"Thank you," Scully replied with a small smile. She turned and
walked back to the doorway, stopping there to gaze again at Mulder
and Samantha. She supposed it was just the shock of Samantha's
reappearance, but she couldn't seem to stop staring at them.

Just then, Mulder jerked awake, his eyes rolling wildly before
landing on Samantha. He stilled, then leaned forward, lifting his
free hand to brush a strand of hair from his sister's face.

Only Scully was there to see the hand tremble.

She cleared her throat softly, both to alert Mulder to her
presence and to keep her voice from wavering when she spoke.
"Mulder?" she called softly, as his head swiveled to face her.

"Scully," he said, still blinking sleep from his eyes. "Hi."

She half-smiled, then said, "Hi yourself" as she moved toward him.
She stopped at the foot of the bed, watching as he looked back at
Samantha.

"She's really here," he whispered. "I dreamed ... I dreamed she
was gone again."

Scully's heart contracted in her chest, and she felt tears
stinging her eyes. Blinking rapidly a few times, she cleared her
throat again and said, "I was thinking about getting us some
breakfast. The nurse said Dr. Griffin should be by around seven,
and I wanted to be here when she comes in."

Mulder looked up at her, blinking slowly again. "I'm not ... not
really hungry, Scully," he said.

Scully arched an eyebrow. "You've got to eat, Mulder," she said,
her voice still low but the tone stern. "I'm going down to the
cafeteria to get something. I'll be back in just a bit. Okay?"

Mulder just stared, then nodded as he turned his attention back
to Samantha. Scully watched him for another few moments, then
reached to the bedside table for her purse and headed for the
cafeteria.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
7:03 a.m.

Scully had eaten only about half of the cream cheese bagel she'd
gotten in the cafeteria, and Mulder had finished even less of his.
He *had* drunk the orange juice, though, and was still sipping at
the coffee as he sat back beside the bed, just watching Samantha
sleep.

Scully saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her
head to see Dr. Griffin walking toward the ICU cubicle. She sat
up straighter in her chair as the doctor entered, nodded at Scully
in greeting, then looked down to read the chart she had brought in
with her.

Mulder didn't move until Dr. Griffin stepped to the side of the
bed to check the monitors, then paused to make a notation on the
chart. His eyes shot to the doctor's face, and he swallowed. "Is
she ... how is she?" he whispered.

Dr. Griffin looked at him, then smiled reassuringly. "Her vitals
are still stable, and all her tests have come back normal. I'm a
little concerned that she's still asleep, but we don't know what
kind of trauma she might have experienced. All in all, I'd say
she's doing well."

Mulder's face didn't change, but Scully saw the despair there as
he looked back down at Samantha. Scully turned her attention to
the doctor. "What did the bloodwork show?" she asked.

Dr. Griffin turned toward her, then looked back down at the chart
and made another note as she spoke. "She has a slightly elevated
white blood cell count, but otherwise she seems perfectly normal,"
she said. "We found no toxins, no unusual antibodies, nothing to
account for the coma."

Scully nodded. "Dr. Griffin, I have some ... colleagues I want to
conduct some less common tests," she said cautiously. "We have
encountered some unusual physiological reactions in our
investigations, and there are a few things we've learned to look
for. But in this case, I don't really expect to find any of those
things present." She sighed, glancing back at Samantha. "I really
don't think there's anything else to do."

Dr. Griffin glanced at Samantha, then looked thoughtfully at
Mulder for a few moments before turning back to Scully. "I'd like
for Mr. Mulder to try talking to Samantha," she said in a low
voice. "You said he's her brother, so maybe hearing his voice
will help bring her around."

Scully folded her arms across her chest and dipped her head
slightly before looking back up at the doctor. "Actually, Mulder
hasn't seen his sister in a long time. So I'm not sure if that
would do any good."

"How long has it been?" Dr. Griffin asked.

Scully hesitated, then said, "Twenty-five years."

Dr. Griffin seemed taken aback, then recovered and said, "Well,
it's worth a try anyway." She waited for Scully's answering nod
before continuing. "Are there any other family members who could
come?" she asked.

Scully shook her head. "Mulder's mom is in the hospital herself,
and we don't know of any other family members," she said.

"She's married."

The two women turned toward the bed at Mulder's words, but he was
still staring at his sister.

"What?" Scully said.

"She's married," Mulder repeated. "She's got a husband and
children. But I don't ..." He paused, then went on. "I don't even
know her married name."

Scully was shocked. "How ... how do you know she's married?" she
asked. But Mulder didn't even seem to hear her question.

After a moment, Dr. Griffin turned back to Scully and said, "May I
speak with you outside?"

"Of course," Scully answered automatically, rising from her seat
and following the other woman into the hallway.

Outside, Dr. Griffin stopped beside the nurses' station and
turned back to face Scully. "I'm going to be blunt, Dr. Scully,"
she said. "At the moment, I am as concerned about Mr. Mulder as I
am about his sister. He seems to be experiencing periods of
disassociativeness and even confusion."

"I know," Scully broke in before Dr. Griffin could go any further.
"Mulder is ... well, he tends to focus so tightly on one thing
that he tunes out everything else. I've dealt with it throughout
our partnership, and this is no worse than what I've seen before.
I can keep an eye on him, as long as it doesn't get any worse. If
it does, I'll take immediate action."

Dr. Griffin still had a skeptical expression on her face, but
Scully didn't allow her the chance for further objections. "As I
said inside, Dr. Griffin, what I would like to do is get blood
samples from both Mulder and Samantha and take them to the FBI
lab for tests. I want to start on DNA matching as soon as
possible, because the tests will take some time."

Dr. Griffin considered arguing, but somehow knew it wouldn't get
her anywhere. Sighing in resignation, she turned to the nurse and
said, "Could you call the lab and ask them to send a technician up
to take some blood?"

The nurse nodded and picked up the phone, and Dr. Griffin turned
back to Scully. "I need to finish my rounds, Dr. Scully, but I do
have a few questions I'd like to ask you, if you have some time in
the next day or two. Is there a number where you can be reached?"

Scully nodded. "Just a moment and I'll get you one of my business
cards," she said. She turned and re-entered the cubicle, noting
that Mulder hadn't moved from his previous position. She retrieved
her card from her purse and stepped back into the hall to hand it
to Dr. Griffin.

"Thank you," the doctor said. "I'll call soon."

"Sure," Scully said, nodding her head to one side before heading
back into the cubicle to wait for the lab technician.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
8:23 a.m.

As the lab technician finished drawing the blood samples from
Mulder and Samantha, Scully stepped into the hall with her phone.
She first dialed the FBI lab, informing Danny that she'd be
bringing by two samples for DNA testing.

Then, she called a less familiar number.

"Good morning, may I help you?" Scully relaxed slightly at the
formal tone.

She was hoping she'd get Byers.

"Good morning," she said. "This is Dana Scully."

"Agent Scully," Byers replied, a note of surprise in his voice.
"How are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "I'm at Northeast Georgetown with
Mulder." She paused for a second, then said, "And his sister."

Dead silence greeted her, until Byers finally found his voice.
"Did you say his *sister*?" he asked.

Scully blew out a breath. "Yes," she said. "Mulder got a call
yesterday morning telling him Samantha was here. She's
unconscious, and no one seems to know how she got to the
hospital."

She heard Byers inhale sharply. "That sounds too familiar for my
liking," he said.

"Exactly," Scully said. "I'm having blood drawn from both Mulder
and Samantha right now. I'd like to bring samples to you for
testing."

"Please do," Byers said. "We have some idea of what to look for,
after ..." His voice trailed off, as if he was reluctant to
address the subject directly.

"After what happened to me," Scully finished firmly. "This is no
accident, Byers. This was set up. The timing can't be
coincidental."

"I agree," Byers said. "We'll be glad to do whatever tests you
want, Agent Scully."

"I'll be by in just a bit," she replied, then cut the connection.

Moving back into the cubicle, Scully saw that the technician was
packing up her equipment and said, "Thank you very much."

"No problem," the woman replied, placing a small rack containing
four vials of blood on the bedside table before leaving the room.

Mulder had gone right back to his vigil over Samantha, so Scully
walked around the bed to stand next to him. Placing a hand on his
shoulder, she said softly, "I'm going to get these samples to the
Gunmen and the lab, Mulder."

He didn't move for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay," he said
in a flat voice.

Scully hesitated, then decided against reminding him that she was
also going to the office. Instead, she said, "I may be gone
several hours, but I'll have my phone with me, so please call if
you need anything. Dr. Griffin has the number as well."

Mulder nodded again but didn't speak.

Scully was loathe to leave him here alone but didn't no what else
to do. So she squeezed his shoulder lightly before slipping away.

==========
Offices of The Lone Gunmen
Somewhere in or near Washington, D.C.
9:15 a.m.

Scully knocked on the door and was surprised when it was opened
within seconds to reveal Byers, in his standard conservative suit
and tie. "Agent Scully, please, come in," he said, pulling the
door wide.

"Thanks," she said, stepping inside. The other men were nowhere
in sight, and she turned back toward Byers. "Just you this
morning?"

Byers smiled slightly. "The guys had some kind of 'secret
rendezvous' to take care of," putting a bit of sarcastic emphasis
on the two-word description of their activities. Scully had a
feeling those had come straight from Langly's mouth. "I told them
I'd rather stay here," Byers finished

Scully smirked a bit herself, then reached into her purse and
extracting two tightly capped vials. "Here are the samples," she
said, holding them out to Byers, who took them, lifting them to
the light and inspecting them. Scully continued, "I'd like
standard DNA testing, although the Bureau's labs will be doing the
same thing, so that's not the main priority here. I'd like you
guys to check for some ... less obvious abnormalities."

Byers' eyes shot from the vials to Scully, and he lowered the
samples as he spoke. "In other words, you want the same tests we
did on your blood sample."

Scully nodded. "Mulder and I ..." she paused, then corrected
herself. "*I* suspect you may find some similarities between
Samantha's blood and mine."

Byers looked at her for a long time, then nodded again. "We'll ...
well, *I'll* get right on it," he said, one corner of his mouth
lifting again as he inadvertently imitated her revision of speech.

Scully gave a slight smile and said, "I'd appreciate that."

Byers showed her to the door, and Scully next headed for the
Bureau. She went directly to the lab, where she gave the remaining
two vials to Danny with instructions to begin complete DNA
matching.

Then, reluctantly, she headed for the basement.

==========
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
10:47 a.m.

Skinner pulled into a space inside the hospital's parking garage,
climbed from the car, and headed directly for the intensive care
unit. He'd come straight there from Rhode Island, planning to
check in with Scully and Mulder before going by the office.

Walking through the double doors into the unit, he pulled his FBI
ID as he stopped at the counter to speak to the nurse. "I'm
looking for Samantha Mulder," he said, in a tone that brooked no
objections.

The young woman looked up, then wordlessly pointed to a doorway a
few feet away. "Thank you," Skinner said, tucking his wallet back
into his pocket as he moved toward the opening.

But as the bed came into view, Skinner stopped in his tracks. A
woman lay on the bed, her eyes closed, an IV extending from one
arm and an oxygen cannula across her face.

And, in the chair on the other side of the bed sat Mulder, his
hand holding tightly to his sister's. The agent's eyes were
closed, his head tilted to one side. He was asleep.

Skinner hesitated only momentarily before deciding not to disturb
him. Turning, he headed back for the ICU's main doors, nodding
once at the nurse as he left.

==========
J. Edgar Hoover FBI building
Washington, D.C.
11:22 a.m.

Skinner stood ramrod straight in the elevator as it reached the
bottom floor, bracing himself against whatever sights he might
see. He had no idea if Scully had been by yet, so he didn't know
what to expect.

The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open, and Skinner
stepped out and strode the few feet down the hall to the office's
door. As the office came into view, his stomach clenched anew at
the blackened walls.

Then, for the second time in less than an hour, what he saw
stopped him in the doorway.

Scully sat on the floor near the charred desk, turned sideways to
the door. She was covered with streaks of soot and dust, and
Skinner could see a cardboard box sitting near her on the floor.
She held something clutched in her hands, and she was hunched over
slightly, oblivious to Skinner's presence.

She's crying, he realized.

For a moment, he was tempted to leave her alone, as he had Mulder.
But he had become fiercely protective of the two agents, and he
found himself moving toward her.

Crouching silently beside her, he studied her face as she tried to
regain her composure, now aware he was there. He glanced down to
see what she was holding -- two blackened, half-burned
photographs. One, he realized, was a picture of her with Mulder
that he'd seen hanging on the office wall earlier that week. The
other was a photograph of a young girl, which he realized was the
picture of Samantha that Mulder had kept for all these years.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Skinner reached out a hand and
closed his fingers around the photographs, carefully drawing them
out of her hands. Her head shot up, and when her eyes met his, he
felt his stomach drop. All facade of control was gone from her
face, and the raw pain in her eyes broke his heart. He couldn't
help himself. He reached out his other arm and pulled her to him.

She went willingly into the half-embrace, her breath hitching and
catching as she continued to fight her tears. Skinner didn't
speak, allowing her to gather herself without interference. He
knew any verbal acknowledgement of their position would only
embarrass her further.

After a few moments, Scully's breathing evened out a bit, and she
pulled back, turning slightly away from him. Skinner remained
where he was briefly, then slowly pushed himself back to his feet.
He turned his back to her as she wiped at the tears still on her
face, focusing his attention on the remains of the office rather
than her temporary loss of control.

Skinner remained where he was until he heard Scully climbing from
the the floor, then turned back toward her. "Agent Scully," he
said, as if he'd just walked into the room. "Are you having any
luck?"

Scully's eyes were on the desk, and she reached resolutely for a
soot-covered folder sitting on its edge. "A little," she said,
flipping the folder open to reveal a thin stack of papers with
burned edges. "Most of the files themselves are gone, of course.
The worst damage was to the filing cabinets."

Her voice was much stronger that Skinner had expected, and his
admiration for her notched up another point. Out loud, he said,
"What can I do to help?"

She glanced up at him, and he saw her cool mask of professionalism
was firmly back in place. "I'm not sure, sir," she said. "I've
been going through things as carefully as possible, and packing up
whatever I think will be helpful."

Skinner nodded sharply. "So what have you not been through yet?"

She paused, then said, "Actually ..." Her voice trailed off, and
her eyes flitted over to the half-melted filing cabinets.

Skinner's gaze followed hers, and he realized that, beyond a
cursory examination, she hadn't yet been able to bring herself to
tackle the files themselves. Throwing a quick glance at her, he
moved to the line of cabinets and reached for the nearest drawer.

"Thank you, sir." Skinner was surprised at the soft tone Scully
used, but when he looked back at her, she was concentrating on the
desk. He paused, then turned back to the task before him.

==========
X-files office
1:13 p.m.

Skinner had made it through the second drawer and was turning back
to dive into a third when the trash can in the far corner, behind
the door, caught his eye. He hadn't noticed it before; the can was
half-hidden behind the partially burned trench coat hanging on the
coat rack, but Skinner could see the top edges were only slightly
charred.

Pushing himself away from the cabinets, he took the few steps
across to the can and lifted the end of the coat away. The can was
half-full, and the items inside appeared to be a bit damp but only
slightly damaged.

And then his eyes landed on a flash of color at one side of the
can, and he sucked in a breath. "Agent Scully," he barked.

Scully looked up from behind the desk, where she had been crouched
down to look through the drawers. "Sir?" she asked.

Skinner jerked his head to direct her over to him, his eyes never
leaving the trash can. Scully rose from her crouch and crossed
over to him, then followed his nod and looked down.

There, stuck down along the side of the can, was the unmistakable
red-and-white pattern of an empty pack of Morleys.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
1:21 p.m.

Mulder was still at his sister's side, having left only briefly to
use the restroom in the hours since Scully had left. His hand
gripping Samantha's, he was just starting to doze off again when
he felt her move.

Instantly alert, Mulder shot his eyes up to Samantha's face. Her
hand shifted again, and she turned her head slightly to the side.

Then, ever so slowly, her eyes opened.


============================
Chapter Four: With Open Eyes
============================

X-files office
Saturday, May 23, 1998
1:25 p.m.

Scully just stared at the damning evidence. She had suspected from
the moment she'd gotten the call about the fire who was behind it,
but she didn't think he'd be this blatant.

Skinner had obviously suspected the same thing. "I guess there's
no doubt now," he said, fairly growling out the words. "He doesn't
even care who knows he did it."

Scully nodded slowly, then turned back toward the desk and reached
for the box of latex gloves she'd been using to handle some items.
Snapping on a fresh pair, she bent down next to the can and
withdrew the half-crushed cigarette pack, then moved back the desk
and retrieved an evidence bag.

Dropping the pack inside, she sealed it, then looked back at
Skinner, who was watching her. "I don't imagine it'll do any good,
but we should take this to the lab for fingerprint analysis," she
said.

Skinner nodded in agreement, but before he could speak, Scully's
cell phone jangled from the top of the desk. Reaching for it with
her free hand, she jabbed a button and spoke into the mouthpiece.
"Scully."

"Agent Scully," Byers' voice came back. "I have some information
on the blood samples you brought by."

Scully's eyes flew to meet Skinner's questioning gaze. "Just a
second," she said, dropping her eyes as she lowered the phone to
rest against her chest. "No offense, sir, but ..."

Skinner didn't even question her unspoken request. "I'll take this
up to the lab," he said, reaching for the bagged cigarette pack
she still held.

Scully pressed her lips together and nodded as she handed him the
evidence. "Thank you, sir," she said, as he turned and headed out
the door.

Lifting the phone back to her mouth, she said, "What did you
find?"

Byers didn't waste time with small talk. "I started with the blood
sample from Mulder's sister, running the same tests we did on your
blood," he said. "I found traces of the same branched DNA we saw
before, but this time there was something a little different."

"What's that?"

"Well, in your case, the branched DNA was acting as a poison to
your system," he answered. "It was cutting off the flow of oxygen
to your cells."

"It was killing me." Scully supplied.

A pause, then, "Yes."

Scully bit her lip, then asked, "Is the same thing happening to
Samantha?"

She heard Byers blow out a breath, and could detect the puzzlement
in his voice when he spoke again. "Actually, no," he said. "It
appears ... she seems to be fighting it off just like a normal,
mild, viral infection. Like an ordinary strain of the flu. Her
blood contains what appear to be antibodies to the toxin."

Scully's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. "She's immune to
it?" she said, amazed.

"It would appear so," Byers says. "I've never seen anything ...
I've never *heard* of anything like this. I know of no treatment
or antidote to this type of toxin. And I've certainly never heard
of anyone with a *natural* immunity."

Scully's mind raced. If Samantha was immune to the very thing that
had nearly killed Scully ... What, exactly, had been done to this
woman?

"Agent Scully?"

Byers' voice pulled Scully from her thoughts. "Yes?" she said.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to run some further tests and forward
the results to some colleagues of ours," he said. "They may have
some additional information or comments that could be helpful."

"That's fine," Scully said. "I assume you won't be using names?"

"Of course not." Byers sounded faintly offended, and Scully
couldn't help a small smile as she realized what she'd just said,
to one of the four most paranoid men she knew.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Just covering my tracks."

Byers' low laugh relieved her. "I know all about that, Agent
Scully," he said. "I'll call if I find out anything more."

"Thank you," she said before shutting off the phone. Sighing
heavily, she placed the phone back on the desk and turned back to
her work.

==========
2:02 p.m.

Scully and Skinner were finishing up at the office, having filled
two large boxes with salvageable items. A few additional things
had been bagged as possible evidence and delivered to the lab.

Dropping the last file into the top of her box, Scully exhaled and
looked around the room. Her heart still lurched at the extent of
the destruction, but she felt somewhat better now that she had
managed to save a few things.

She turned toward Skinner, who had filled his own box and was now
watching her. Offering a half-smile, she said, "Now, what do we do
with these?" She gestured to the boxes.

Skinner considered a moment, then said, "I think I should take
them home with me," he said. "I've got a closet in the extra
bedroom that locks. And I don't think it would be a good idea to
leave them here at the Bureau."

Scully nodded in agreement. "Well, I need to get cleaned up and
go back to the hospital, so let's get going."

They picked up their boxes and headed for the parking garage,
where Skinner stored the boxes in the trunk of his car. Slamming
the lid down, he turned toward Scully. "I'm going to head home
now, too," he said, looking down at his smudged clothes. "I could
use a shower and a change of clothes."

Scully smiled again, briefly, then turned serious again. "Sir, I
don't know how to thank you for everything you've done. It's been
far beyond the call, and I appreciate it."

Skinner waved off her comment. "It's the least I can do," he said.
"You two don't deserve any of this." His voice turned hard. "And
neither do I," he continued. "I'm tired of being stepped on and
shoved aside, Agent Scully. And I'm not going to take it any
more."

Scully met his fierce gaze. "I'm glad, sir," she said. "Neither
am I."

They stood there a few more moments, not speaking, before Scully
turned away and started for her own car.

==========
Scully's apartment
2:58 p.m.

Scully sighed in relief as she entered her apartment for the first
time in a day and a half. She dropped her purse on the sofa table,
then flipped quickly through the mail she'd grabbed on her way in
before placing the stack on the table as well.

Crossing to her answering machine, she glanced at the display to
see she had three messages. Hitting the replay button, she bent
to pull off her shoes and started unbuttoning her top as she
listened.

*beep* Hi, Dana, this is mom, it's about 10:30 on Friday, just
give me a call when you get in.

Before she even heard about the fire, much less Samantha,
Scully thought, as the next message came through.

*beep* Good morning, Mrs. Scully. I'm calling to tell you about
an exciting new ...

Disgusted, Scully crossed back to the machine and forwarded to
the next message.

*beep* Ms. Scully? This is Becky at Northeast Georgetown. We have
you down to be contacted if Ms. Mulder regained consciousness. We
tried your cell phone ...

Scully didn't hear the rest of the message. She was already
running down the hall to shower and change.

==========
3:27 p.m.

Scully had finished showering and changing in record time and
grabbed her purse again on the way back out the door. She pulled
out her phone as she hurried to the car, dialing Skinner's office
number.

The phone was answered on the second ring. "FBI," an unfamiliar
male voice said, and Scully realized the switchboard had picked
up. Well, it *is* Saturday, she told herself.

"This is Special Agent Dana Scully," Scully said as she pulled out
her keys and unlocked her car. "I need to get a message to
Assistant Director Skinner."

"We can relay that for you, Agent Scully," the man said.

"Thank you," she replied, climbing into the car. "Please ask him
to call me on my cell phone, or to call the ICU at Northeast
Georgetown. It's urgent."

"I'll contact him immediately," the man said.

Scully ended the call, then started the car and headed for the
hospital.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
3:57 p.m.

Scully pushed through the double doors and headed directly for
Samantha's cubicle. She pulled up short in the doorway at the
familiar but oh-so-different scene.

Mulder still sat next to his sister's bed, still holding her hand.
But Samantha was half-sitting up, and she was talking in a soft
voice.

"... I just don't know, Fox," she said. "The last thing I remember
is hearing the knock, and ..."

She stopped as she noticed the figure in the door. She turned her
head toward Scully, who sucked in a breath as their eyes met.

Hazel eyes. Just like her brother's.

Mulder's head shot up to the doorway as well, and Scully turned
her attention to him. She was jolted by the relief and joy in his
eyes. And then he smiled, and she was transfixed by the
expression. She couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy.

"Scully," he said, his voice a blend of excitement and exhaustion.
"I'd like to introduce you to my sister."

Scully stared, then felt a smile spread across her face as well.
She turned her attention back to Samantha as she stepped to the
side of the bed. "I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you,"
she said.

Samantha smiled up at her. "Fox has been telling me about you,"
she said. "He said you've been helping him look for me."

Scully nodded, tears filling her eyes. "I ... I have," she
whispered, fighting for control.

Samantha studied her face, then glanced back at Mulder. His eyes
were on Scully but turned back to his sister when he realized she
was looking at him. Squeezing the hand he still held, he gave her
a smile of encouragement. "You were telling me what happened the
other day," he said.

Scully realized immediately that he was giving her the change to
calm herself and took the opportunity. She turned away from the
bed, under the pretense of pulling up a seat, and quickly wiped
at the moisture in her eyes before reaching for the chair against
the wall. Samantha began to speak as she turned back and moved to
sit next to the bed.

"I was in the kitchen, and someone rang the front doorbell,"
Samantha said, her voice a bit hesitant. "I remember walking
across the foyer toward the door -- I was wiping my hands on a
dishrag. Then ... then nothing, until I woke up a little while
ago."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully. "Were you expecting someone that day?"

Samantha shook her head. "No," she said. "And I always look out
to see who it is before opening the door. I know it was locked,
too. It must have been someone I recognized, if I opened the
door."

Mulder nodded again. "Well, don't worry about it right now," he
said gently. "Just concentrate on getting better, so you can go
home."

Samantha smiled. "That'll be nice," she said. Then her eyes
widened. "Rick and the kids," she said. "They don't even know ..."

Scully leaned forward. "Your husband?" she asked.

Samantha turned to look at her, nodding and biting her lip. "They
went camping for the weekend. I ... they won't be home until
Monday. I don't know how to reach them. If I'm not there ..."

"It's okay," Mulder said soothingly. "If you're not home by then,
I'll go there myself to explain. It'll be fine."

Samantha hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

Mulder smiled at her again, then turned to Scully. "Have you heard
anything on the bloodwork yet?" he asked.

"Yes," Scully answered. "Byers said Samantha's blood showed the
same branched DNA that mine did when I was here. But her body is
fighting off the toxin. She appears to be immune."

Mulder's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Immune?" he said.

Scully nodded. "Her blood contained what appear to be antibodies
to the toxin, something Byers said he's never heard of before."

Samantha's eyes had grown wider and wider as they talked. "What
are you talking about?" she finally said.

Scully and Mulder turned their attention back to his sister, and
Mulder looked at her seriously for a moment before speaking.
"Scully took a sample of your blood to some ... colleagues of
ours. We had reason to believe we would find certain
abnormalities." His eyes shot back to Scully's. "Which,
apparently, we have."

Samantha still looked lost. "Abnormalities?" she said. "Is
something wrong with me?"

"No," Scully said reassuringly. "What we found indicates that your
body has been able to fight off the infection."

Samantha relaxed only slightly. "But how ... where did it come
from?"

Scully sighed. "That we don't know," she said. "You may have been
subjected to some testing that left the toxin in your system. Or,
you could have been exposed to it deliberately, to see if you
would fight it off."

Samantha closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow. "I
can't ..."

Mulder leaned forward, laying his free hand on top of the other
where it still grasped his sister's. "It's okay," he soothed.
"You rest. I'm going to talk to Scully outside for a minute, but
I'll be right back."

Samantha nodded but didn't open her eyes, and Mulder squeezed her
hand one last time before releasing it. His eyes remained on his
sister as he stood, and then he looked at Scully, who was rising
from her seat as well.

Silently, they left the ICU and stopped just a few feet outside
the door. Mulder turned to face Scully, then bent down close to
her face and said, "There's something else, isn't there?"

Scully gazed up at him, then dropped her head and nodded. "Skinner
and I spent a little while going through things at the office,"
she started. "We filled up a couple of boxes, and Skinner has them
locked up in a closet at his apartment." She paused and, still not
meeting his eyes, continued. "We also found ..." She braced
herself and raised her eyes to his. "In the trash can, we
found ... an empty pack of Morleys."

She felt him tense, and she could see the muscles playing along
his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "I figured," he spat out,
planting his hands on his hips and whirling on one heel. "And I
guess he doesn't even care if we know."

Scully didn't move. "We thought the same thing," she said.

Mulder took several deep breaths, then turned back to face her.
"What about the DNA testing?" he asked.

Scully sighed. "Danny's got a set of samples, and Byers has the
others. I told Byers to concentrate on the other tests, but he's
going to do a DNA match as well. We should have preliminary
results by sometime next week, if nothing happens."

A short bark of mirthless laughter from Mulder surprised Scully.
"'If nothing happens,'" he repeated, shaking his head with a
rueful smile. "And when has 'nothing' happened to us?"

Scully simply lifted one corner of her mouth in reply.

==========
Skinner's apartment
4:02 p.m.

Skinner was already tired, and his frustration had reached a fever
pitch by the time he got home. An interstate pileup had backed
traffic up for miles, and it had taken him twice the normal time
to make it from the office to his high-rise apartment building.

Now, he had just finished locking the two boxes from the office
into the closet and was headed for a shower. At the last second,
though, he remembered to check his messages.

<beep> "Assistant Director Skinner, this is the FBI switchboard.
Special Agent Scully asked us to contact you and ask you to call
her, either on her cell phone or at the Northeast Georgetown ICU."

Curious, Skinner moved to pick up his phone when he realized there
was another message.

*beep* "He has what he wants most."

That voice. He'd know it anywhere.

Smoking Man.

==========
Intensive Care Unit
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
4:15 p.m.

Mulder and Scully were back in Samantha's room, listening to her
halting tale of her life. Mrs. Scully had arrived just moments
before and was walking up to the doorway when she heard the
woman's voice.

"He raised me, Fox," she was saying as Mrs. Scully reached the
door. "I told you last fall, when we met. He said he'd just found
you."

Mrs. Scully saw a visible jolt go through Scully at Samantha's
words, and Scully turned her head to stare at Mulder. She didn't
know, Mrs. Scully realized. Fox saw Samantha, and he didn't tell
Dana.

"When he died, I ..." Samantha stopped in mid-sentence and sucked
in a breath, her eyes huge.

Mulder leaned forward, taking her hand again. "What?" he asked
urgently. "What is it?"

Samantha turned his face toward him, as tears began to run down
her face. "He's alive," she whispered. "He's the one who took me."


=========================
Chapter Five: Family Ties
=========================

Third floor waiting room
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
Saturday, May 23, 1998
6:45 p.m.

Mulder and Scully were back in another waiting room, but this
time, they were at least slightly more relaxed. Samantha had just
been moved to a private room on the third floor. Skinner had
called from his car, briefly, to tell them he'd ordered a guard on
Samantha, as a precaution, but had declined to explain until he
got to the hospital.

Now, the guard was in place, and the partners were giving Samantha
a chance to rest. Scully's mother had gone to get dinner for them.

Scully kept a wary eye on Mulder as they waited. He had stretched
out on one of the sofas at her insistence, one arm lying across
his eyes, but despite his relaxed position and even breathing,
she could tell he wasn't sleeping.

"Mulder," she said softly.

He didn't move, but she heard a soft "Hmm?"

Scully hesitated. She wasn't sure now was a good time to broach
the subject of his apparent meeting with Samantha months earlier,
but the wondering was eating her up inside. Gathering her courage,
she said, "What did Samantha mean when she said you met with her
last fall?"

Mulder stopped breathing, then started again as his arm slid from
his face to fall against his chest. "I was hoping you hadn't heard
that," he said, his eyes still squeezed shut.

Scully felt the fury building in her but managed to tamp it down
for the moment. "Why?" she asked in a carefully neutral tone.

His eyes came open, and he looked up at her where she sat a few
feet away. "I didn't want to have to deal with it," he said. "I
was ... I didn't want you to know yet."

Scully had to shove down even harder against her anger. "You
didn't want me to know," she said in a flat voice. "You saw your
sister. And you didn't tell me."

Mulder swung his feet to the floor and sat up. "That didn't come
out the way I meant it," he said, dropping his arms to rest on his
knees and leaning toward her, his eyes on hers. "I just ..."

"Well why don't you tell me what you meant, then, Mulder?" Scully
demanded, her voice still soft but her rage sharpening the edges.
"You found the sister you've spent your life looking for. The
sister *we've* spent five years looking for, together. And you
can't even see fit to *tell* me?"

Mulder just looked at her for a moment, then sighed and dropped
his eyes to his hands. "It was ... it was when you were in the
hospital," he said softly. "I should have told you, I know. But
you were so sick, and I didn't have any way to know it was really
her. I just ..." His voice trailed off. "I should have told you,"
he finished.

Scully was furious, though only the blaze in her eyes and the
clenched muscles along her jawline gave her away. Well, that, and
her next words. "You're damn right you should have told me," she
hissed. "You had no right to keep this from me."

Mulder kept looking at her helplessly. "I know," he repeated.

"What did you think you were doing, Mulder?" Scully said, the
steel still in her voice. "Even if I was sick then, I'm fine now.
And you *still* didn't tell me?"

Just then, Mrs. Scully appeared in the doorway, with Skinner right
behind her. "Dana, dear," Mrs. Scully started, but then stopped
short when she saw the partners staring at each other, and felt
the tension in the air.

Mrs. Scully hesitated, then cleared her throat and said, "Is
everything okay?"

Scully didn't move. "I'm fine, Mom," she said, anger still in her
voice. "*Just* fine."

She held Mulder's gaze a few more moments -- <This isn't over,>
her look said -- then forced herself to relax and turned toward
the doorway. Offering a small smile, she said, "Dinner?"

Mrs. Scully didn't move immediately herself, her eyes flickering
between Scully and Mulder, who was still perched on the edge of
the sofa, staring at his partner.

"Mom?" Scully asked, her tone falling into concern.

Mrs. Scully shook herself mentally and managed to smile at her
daughter. "Dinner," she said, walking into the room and placing
the fast-food bags she carried on the end table next to Scully's
chair. Skinner followed silently, stopping a few feet away.

Scully turned her attention to her boss. "Sir?" she asked. "Any
news?"

His head jerked down once, sharply. "Not good," he said. "I had a
message when I got home. Besides the one to call you."

Scully's brow creased in question. "What?" she asked.

Skinner's mouth twisted, and he said, "Just one line. 'He has what
he wants most.' And the voice was *very* familiar."

Mulder's eyes finally moved from Scully, shooting over to Skinner.
"Smoking man?" he asked.

Skinner nodded again. "That's why I ordered the guard," he said.
He paused, then said, "I also called on my way here to check on
your mother, Agent Mulder. Her doctor should be calling you any
time to give you an update." He looked at Scully. "I gave them
your cellular number."

"Thank you, sir," Mulder and Scully said, almost in unison. They
looked briefly at each other, then away.

Silence reigned for a few moments, until Mrs. Scully reached for
the food bags. "Well, let's eat, shall we?" she said.

==========
6:16 p.m.

Scully had just finished eating when her cell phone burred from
the table next to her. She answered it, "Scully."

"Ms. Scully?" the voice said. "I'm looking for a Mr. Mulder. I
was told he could be reached at this number."

Scully's eyes shot up to land on Mulder. "Yes, he's right here,"
she said. "Just a moment." She held out the phone to Mulder. "It's
for you," she said.

Mulder leaned across from the sofa to take the phone from her,
careful not to brush her hand. Lifting the phone to his mouth, he
said, "Mulder."

"Mr. Mulder, this is Doctor Graham at South County Hospital in
Wakefield. I'm calling about your mother."

"Yes," Mulder said, recognizing the location as a small town near
Quonochontaug. "How is she?"

"She's doing well," Dr. Graham said. "She's awake and alert, and
she apparently has not had another stroke. We want to keep her
here for observation for another day, but she should be able to
go home by tomorrow."

Mulder relaxed a bit. "Good," he said. "Thank you for calling."

"Mr. Mulder?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be visiting, or is there another family member or friend
we should call?"

Mulder paused, torn, and glanced at Scully before answering.
"I ... I don't think I can get away right now," he said. "I ...
I'll let you know."

A pause, then Dr. Graham said. "All right. I'll call if anything
changes."

"Thank you," Mulder said, ending the call. He sat still for a
moment, then held out the phone toward Scully without looking at
her.

Scully took it and placed it back on the table, her eyes never
leaving Mulder. She knew he was fighting a battle between his
need to stay with Samantha and his perceived duty to take care of
his mother.

Obviously, Mrs. Scully came to the same conclusion. "Fox," she
said softly. "I'll be glad to go see your mother for you."

His eyes shot up to meet hers. "I couldn't ask you to do that,
Mrs. Scully," he said.

She smiled gently at him. "You're not," she said. "I'm offering."

He held her gaze, then nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said.

Skinner cleared his throat, and the others turned to look at him.
"I don't think you should go alone, Mrs. Scully," he said. "And
I'd like to speak to Mrs. Mulder myself. I'll drive you."

"That should be fine," Mrs. Scully agreed. "When should we leave?"

Skinner glanced at his watch. "It's too late to go tonight, and I
need to check on a few things first. Is eight tomorrow morning
all right?"

Mrs. Scully nodded. "I'll be ready."

The two turned back to Mulder and Scully. Mulder had dropped his
head again and was staring at the floor, and Scully was watching
him, unsmiling.

After a moment, Skinner coughed lightly. "I'm going back to the
office," he said. "I'll give you my cell number so you can call
if anything changes."

Mrs. Scully reached for her purse and handed him a pen and a small
notepad, and he scribbled down the number quickly, then left.

The group remained silent a few minutes more, until a nurse
appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Mulder?" she asked.

Mulder's head shot around to the door. "Is something wrong?" he
asked.

The nurse smiled. "No. Your sister wanted to see you. She's
awake."

Mulder jumped up and strode out the door, leaving Scully and her
mother alone. Scully watched him go, her face a mixture of anger,
pain, and caring.

Mrs. Scully observed her daughter a moment, then reached out a hand
and laid it on her arm. "You go too, dear," she said. "I need to
go home to pack anyway."

Scully's head swiveled to face her mother. "You don't have to go,
Mom," she said.

"No, I need to," Mrs. Scully answered, rising to her feet and
picking up her purse. "And you need to be with Fox."

Scully stood as well, reaching to draw her mother into a tight
hug. "Thanks, Mom," she said. "I'll call you in the morning."

"Good night, dear," Mrs. Scully said, then turned and left.

Scully took a moment to throw away the debris from their dinner
before heading for Samantha's room.

==========
Room 325
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
7:15 p.m.

Mulder and Scully again sat flanking Samantha's bed, listening to
her talk about her "father" and her life.

"He lied to me, Fox," Samantha said, tears in her eyes. "He said
he was my father, but he lied to me. He ... he told me Mom was
dead, that he didn't know where you were. But he was lying."

Mulder's face reflected his sister's pain, but he managed a small
smile. "But I'm here now, and you know Mom's alive," he said.
"That's all that matters."

"But how could he *do* that?" Samantha cried. "He was so good to
me, Fox. And it was all lie. My whole *life* has been one big
lie."

Scully knew the feeling. After being jerked around for more than
five years, she didn't know how she would ever tell the truth
from the lies.

Mulder squeezed Samantha's hand. "Not all of it," he said softly,
smiling again. "I'm still your big brother."

Samantha nodded, smiling through her tears. "And I've got you
back," she said, her breath hitching a bit.

They were silent a few minutes, but the intensity in their
matching hazel eyes as they looked at each other made Scully feel
like an intruder.

Then she wondered. She's seen people react that way when she and
Mulder did the same thing -- the "unspoken communication" they
used so often. Is that the way we look at each other? she
thought. It's like they're the only two people on the planet.
Or maybe in the universe.

She laughed ruefully to herself at that last thought. Somehow,
everything about Mulder always came back to the extra-terrestrial.

Just then, Mulder broke the silence. "Can you tell me what you
remember, Samantha?"

She hesitated. "I don't know where to start," she said."

"How about the beginning?" he said, crooking another half-smile.

Samantha smiled back. "I remember you, Fox, from when we were
little," she said. "I remember when I fell and broke my
collarbone. I remember playing Stratego, and Risk, and all those
board games you liked. You always beat me, too, and you hardly
ever played the ones I could win."

Mulder chuckled at that. "Typical big brother, I guess," he said.

Samantha nodded and went on, her smile fading away as her gaze
dropped to the edge of the bed. "I remember ... I remember
watching TV ... and yelling something -- at you, I think. I was,
I don't know, about seven or eight." Her brow furrowed, then
cleared slightly. "And I remember being in the hospital, when I
was about nine or ten." She looked up. "If I disappeared twenty-
five years ago, then I was ..."

"Eight," Mulder supplied. "You turned eight about a week before
you disappeared."

Her voice was shakier as she continued. "That's what I thought.
Then being in the hospital is the only thing I remember until I
was almost twelve, when I moved in with my foster parents," she
said. "I only lived with them for about six months, before my
fat ... before that man came to get me."

Then puzzlement creased her forehead again. "But my medical
history doesn't mention any hospitalization," she said. "The only
times I was in the hospital were when I broke my collarbone and
when I had my kids."

At this, Mulder glanced at Scully, who was looking at Samantha
intently. "Samantha," Scully said gently. "Are you sure it was a
hospital?"

Samantha lifted one shoulder slightly. "I guess so," she said. "I
was in a bed, in a big white room, and there was a man with a
white lab coat on. It could have been a clinic or something, I
guess."

Mulder and Scully looked at each other, then back at Samantha. "Do
you remember anything else unusual from back then?" Mulder asked.
"Anything from before you moved in with your foster parents?"

Samantha started to shake her head, then stopped. "Wait," she
said. "I remember ... summertime. I was at the beach. I think ...
we had a house there, or we were staying there for a while. Maybe
all summer. And there was a boy I played with, a little younger
than me. I was about eleven or twelve, I think, and he was nine or
ten. It must have been the summer before I turned twelve."

Her eyes closed briefly, and Scully and Mulder could see movement
behind her eyelids. "He was ... a relative, I think. A cousin,
or ..." Her eyes flew open and landed on Mulder. "Brother," she
breathed. "He was my brother."

Mulder's eyes shot to meet Scully's startled gaze. A brother?
she thought, then turned her attention back to Samantha. "How do
you know he was your brother?" she asked.

"My fath ... that man told me," she said, her eyes sliding shut
again. "Which means it was probably a lie anyway."

Mulder wasn't so sure. A seed of an idea was growing in the back
of his mind. "This was before you went to live with the man?"
Mulder asked.

"Yes," Samantha answered. "He was there, toward the end of the
summer. He took us waterskiing one day, and he told us we were
brother and sister." She glanced up at them. "I remember what he
looked like. The boy, I mean. He was my height, and thin, with
blond hair. He told me he hated it, because it was curly. He had
it cut really short."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully, still staring at Samantha, and Scully
could almost see the gears turning in his mind. "Do you remember
his name?" Mulder asked.

Samantha thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," she said. "There
were a lot of kids there that summer. He was there with his mom.
I think his parents were divorced, or separated. I think his name
was Jerry or something like that."

"Jeffrey?" Mulder asked.

Both Samantha and Scully stared at him. "That's it," Samantha
said. "How did you know?"

Scully knew. "Mulder ..." she started.

"Scully, it makes perfect sense," he said, still looking at his
sister. "I didn't get the chance to tell you, but I saw them
together. In the parking garage at the psychiatric center, the
day before we moved Gibson to the hotel." His gaze shifted to her.
"I went to get my car after you called and asked me to meet you at
the office, and Spender was over in the corner, talking to him."

"You *saw* him?" Scully asked.

"Not directly," Mulder admitted. "But the man I saw was the same
height and build -- and he was smoking a cigarette."

Samantha broke in. "Fox, how did you know Jeffrey's name?"

Mulder turned his attention back to his sister. "I think I know
who he is," he said. "I think he's an agent with the Bureau, too."

Samantha just looked at him, incredulous. "What ... how do you
know?"

Mulder shrugged. "I don't know for sure," he said, shooting a
quick glance over at Scully. "But there's enough ...
*circumstantial* evidence to make me think it warrants further
investigation."

Scully cleared her throat softly. "I think we need to expand our
blood testing," she said. "We need samples from your mother, and
Spender, if he agrees."

Samantha looked at her blankly. "More blood tests?" she asked,
confused, and Scully realized they hadn't told her about the DNA
testing.

Mulder saved Scully the trouble. "DNA matching," Mulder said.
"Just to be completely sure. It's not because of you, so please
don't be upset. We've been misled so many times that we *need* to
be sure." He sighed, then added, "And there's always the
chance ... that your memories could have been ... altered. You've
already said you have a lot of time unaccounted for."

Samantha had obviously had enough. Closing her eyes, she lowered
her head onto the pillow and exhaled deeply. "I feel like I'm in
a cheesy science fiction novel," she muttered, and Scully couldn't
hold back a small grin at the Mulderesque comment.

Mulder couldn't hold back, either, Scully noticed. He bent over
to place a soft kiss on Samantha's forehead, then stood up. "We'll
get out of here so you can get some rest," he said. "Call if you
need me."

"Mmm-hmm," Samantha answered, already half-asleep. "G'night, Fox."

Mulder looked at her for another few seconds, then turned to
Scully and tilted his head toward the door. She stood up and
preceded him into the hallway before stopping and turning back to
face him. "How do you propose we get the blood sample from
Spender?" she asked.

Mulder leaned in close to her face, a small smile playing across
his lips. "How 'bout we ask?" he said teasingly.

He was met with the raised eyebrow, and his smile grew
exponentially in response.


=======================
Chapter Six: Home Again
=======================

South County Hospital
Wakefield, Rhode Island
Sunday, May 24, 1998
11:24 a.m.

Walking down the hallway towards Mrs. Mulder's room, Margaret
Scully was nervous. She and Skinner had talked in the car about
his few previous meetings with Mrs. Mulder, none of which had come
under good circumstances. They had come to the conclusion that it
would be better if Mrs. Scully first approached the other woman
alone.

They slowed and stopped outside the door to Room 214, and Mrs.
Scully took a deep breath to steady herself, then glanced up at
Skinner with a brief smile. "Wish me luck," she said, using a
light tone to hide her apprehension.

Skinner simply nodded with a tight half-smile, and Mrs. Scully
reached up and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," a voice said from inside.

Mrs. Scully pushed the door open and stepped inside hesitantly,
her eyes searching for and finding the bed against the wall to her
left. A woman perhaps 10 years older than her sat in the bed, her
pure white hair pushed back from her face, her face lined with age
and worry.

Mrs. Scully managed to smile. "Mrs. Mulder?" she said, stepping
toward the bed. "I'm Margaret Scully."

A flicker of recognition passed across the woman's face, paired
with a bit of confusion. "Yes," she said, her voice smooth and
cultured. "You're Fox's ... your daughter is his partner." 

Mrs. Scully nodded. "I came to see you because ... I offered to
come, because Fox ..." She stopped, unsure how to explain.

Mrs. Mulder's eyes widened. "Fox isn't ... he's okay, isn't he?"
she said, her voice rising in alarm.

Mrs. Scully realized her mistake. "He's fine, he's fine," she said
quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. But he ... he
couldn't come right now, so I told him I would come to see you."

Mrs. Mulder relaxed, then tensed again as she realized the younger
woman was still standing. "Please, have  a seat," she said,
gesturing toward the chair beside the bed. As Mrs. Scully sat
where she indicated, Mrs. Mulder continued. "Thank you for coming,
but it wasn't necessary. I know Fox ..." Her voice trailed off,
and she tried again. "We ... argued, the last time I saw him. He's
been angry at me, I know. I didn't really expect to see him."

Mrs. Scully shook her head, reaching one hand to touch Mrs.
Mulder's arm briefly before pulling away. "That's not it at all,
Mrs. Mulder," she said. "Fox is very worried about you. It's just
..." She paused, then said, "There's something he has to do,
and ... well, to tell you the truth, I don't really know how to
tell you." She sighed, dropping her eyes to her lap and leaning
back in the chair.

Mrs. Mulder leaned forward. "Tell me what?" she said.

Mrs. Scully looked back up at her. "I ..." She stopped again, then
plunged ahead. "He's at the hospital in Washington -- not in the
hospital; he's fine," she hurriedly amended, as Mrs. Mulder's eyes
widened again. "But it's ... he can't leave. He doesn't want to
leave." She paused yet again.

"What?" Mrs. Mulder said urgently. "Please, just tell me what it
is!"

Mrs. Scully knew she had to say it. "All right," she said.
"It's ... he's with Samantha."

Time seemed to slow down in the room. Mrs. Scully saw Mrs.
Mulder's face go through a kaleidoscope of emotions, in slow
motion. Shock. Confusion. Fear.

Hope.

"S ... Samantha?" she finally managed, her voice cracking on the
word. "He's with ... Samantha?"

Mrs. Scully nodded gently. "She's in the hospital in Washington.
We don't know how she got there. But she's there, and Fox is with
her."

Mrs. Mulder's breath was coming in short pants, but she made a
visible effort to calm down as she forced out words. "She ...
she's alive?"

Mrs. Scully smiled her encouragement. "Yes, she's alive," she
said. "She was in a coma, but she woke up late yesterday
afternoon. She and Fox have been talking. She's been telling him
about ... where she's been. What's happened to her."

Mrs. Mulder had lowered her head back to the pillows and closed
her eyes. "Samantha," she said, as tears began to escape and run
down her face. "My baby."

Mrs. Scully's heart went out to the woman before her. She could
empathize with these feelings, having lost one daughter herself.
And having nearly lost the other.

Twice.

Mrs. Scully reached to grasp Mrs. Mulder's hand where it lay on
the mattress, and Mrs. Mulder's eyes flew open and darted to meet
Mrs. Scully's. The two women simply looked at each other, the
feeling of kinship and understanding flowing between them, mingled
in the tears they now shared.

And they smiled.

==========
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
11:38 a.m.

Scully stood in the hall outside Samantha's room, where she had
left Mulder talking with his sister again just moments before. She
had actually slept late -- well, for her; 8:30 wasn't that late
for a weekend morning -- then had brought breakfast to the
hospital with her, knowing she'd find Mulder there.

Now, she was calling the FBI lab, where Danny was pulling
overtime to work on the tests she'd asked for. She didn't want to
think about what kind of payback she and Mulder would have to
devise for this one. She didn't think Redskins tickets would quite
do the trick this time.

She was drawn from her thoughts by an answer to her call. "Lab
rat speaking."

Scully smiled a bit. "Danny, it's Scully," she said. "Anything
yet?"

"Still working on it, Scully," he said. "Same blood type, although
that's not saying much. I should have at least an indication by
later today. Of course, it'll take a few days for anything
definite."

"That's great," Scully answered. "I called mainly to tell you
we're going to ask their mother for a sample, so you'll have a
better comparison. And ..." She paused, then went on. "There may
be another sibling."

"*May* be?" Danny said.

Scully sighed. "Yes, we're not sure," she replied. "But we may
have another sample for you from him. I'll let you know. And
thanks for everything, Danny."

"No prob," he answered. "And I'll be thinking about the payback."

Scully smiled briefly at the phone as she ended the call, then
headed back into Samantha's room. She could hear low voices before
the bed came into sight, and as she stepped nearer, she saw Mulder
leaning close to his sister, their intertwined hands lying on the
bed beside her.

"... The kids got out of school on Wednesday, and they left
Thursday to go camping," Samantha was saying. "Rick takes them
every year, right after school ends. They're not supposed to be
home until Monday afternoon. I don't want to worry them, but I do
want to be home when they get there."

Mulder smiled softly. "You'll be there," he reassured her. "And
if you can't, I'll go myself and explain."

Samantha glanced over at Scully, who was lowering herself into the
chair on the other side of the bed. "Did you ... have you heard
anything about Mom?" she asked.

Scully's gaze dropped to her lap. "No," she admitted. "But my
mother is supposed to call after they see her and give us an
update."

Mulder squeezed Samantha's hand, and she turned her head back to
look at him. "She'll be fine, Sam," he said.

Samantha nodded shakily. "I just ... I want to see her," she said,
her voice trembling.

Mulder smiled softly. "I know," he said. "And you will, very
soon."

==========
Room 214
South County Hospital
11:42 a.m.

Mrs. Mulder had closed her eyes again after their conversation,
and Mrs. Scully was giving her a few minutes to collect herself
before speaking again. But she never got the chance. Suddenly,
Mrs. Mulder's eyes flew open and landed on Mrs. Scully's. "Are
they sure it's her?" she said, fear in her voice.

Mrs. Scully had heard a bit about the false alarm Mulder and his
family -- and Scully -- had suffered through a few years before
and understood Mrs. Mulder's apprehension. "They're almost sure,"
she said softly. "Dana is having DNA testing done, but she and Fox
do think this is her. And ... Dana wanted me to ask you if you'd
be willing to provide a sample as well."

Mrs. Mulder's eyes widened, then lowered to gaze at her hands,
twisted into knots in her lap. "I ... I should tell them ..."
Her voice trailed off.

Mrs. Scully's brow furrowed in concern and question. "What is it?"
she asked softly, reaching forward to touch the other's woman's
arm.

She could barely hear Mrs. Mulder's voice as she spoke again. "The
testing ... they need to know ..." She paused again, then said,
resolutely, but still softly, "My husband was not Samantha's
father."

==========
Room 325
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
11:52 a.m.

A knock sounded at the door, and Mulder, Scully, and Samantha all
looked up to see Dr. Griffin entering, again carrying Samantha's
chart. "Hello again," she said, smiling. "How's our patient?"

Samantha answered. "Fine, I guess," she said. "But I ... " Her
voice trailed off, and she glanced at her brother.

"But you want out of here, am I right?" Dr. Griffin finished,
flipping open the chart and scanning the information. "Well, I
have some good news for you. If everything stays stable, I think
we'll let you go home tomorrow. How's that?"

Wide smiles of relief crossed the faces of both Mulder and
Samantha, and Scully couldn't help but smile too. "Tomorrow?"
Samantha repeated.

"Yep, sometime in the morning," Dr. Griffin said, making a final
notation on the chart before closing it and dropping her arms to
her sides. "Your vitals are stable, your temperature is normal,
and your bloodwork is clear. You'll need to take it easy for a
while, of course, but I don't see any reason to keep you here."

"Thank you, Dr. Griffin," Samantha said, tears in her eyes.

Mulder nodded his agreement "From both ... from *all* of us," he
amended, glancing at Scully.

Dr. Griffin simply smiled. "Mrs. Carson," she said -- they'd
finally gotten her name corrected -- "you concentrate on getting
some rest for your big move tomorrow. I'll be by on rounds in the
morning for one last visit." She turned and left the room.

Samantha, still smiling, turned back to Mulder, but her face began
to fall when she saw the look of worry which was beginning to
crease his face. "Fox, what's wrong?" she said.

Scully looked at Mulder then, and suddenly realized the reason for
his anxiety. "Mulder, she'll be fine," she started, but he shook
his head sharply.

"No," he said. "I don't think she will." Then he realized he was
scaring Samantha and hurried to explain himself. "I'm sorry, Sam;
I don't mean to scare you," he said. "But you were taken from your
home to start with, and we don't know that they won't be back."

Samantha's eyes were wide with fear. "But I need to be there when
Rick and the kids get home," she said.

"You can," Mulder said, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "But
I'll be there with you, and we'll put guards on the house."

"Guards?" she repeated incredulously. "Fox, I really don't
think ..."

"He's right," Scully interrupted, drawing their attention to her.
"I think you have to be careful, Samantha. Especially ..." She
paused, then looked down at her hands, folded up in her lap.
"Especially with your children there," she finished faintly.

Samantha's forehead furrowed slightly. "Do you have children,
Agent Scully?" she asked innocently.

Scully pressed her eyes shut as the pain hit her, and Mulder
hurried to protect her. "Sam," he said, pulling his sister's
attention away from his partner. "Scully's right. You have to
think about your children, at least until we have a better idea
of what happened to you."

Samantha held his gaze, then nodded. "All right," she said.
"You're right." She glanced back at Scully, then said. "You're
both right."

==========
Room 214
South County Hospital
11:57 a.m.

Mrs. Scully sat in shocked silence a few minutes after Mrs.
Mulder's revelation, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I think Dana will
need to know that to be sure the testing is accurate," she said
softly. "Can you ... do you want to be the one to tell them?"

Mrs. Mulder inhaled sharply as her eyes fell shut, then nodded
jerkily. "I have to do it," she said. "I *need* to do it. We've
had too many secrets for too long."

Mrs. Scully leaned forward again to touch Mrs. Mulder's arm,
squeezing it gently. "I'll be glad to help you as much as I can,"
she said, smiling as Mrs. Mulder looked back at her.

Just then, Mrs. Scully remembered that Skinner was still waiting
outside. "Mrs. Mulder ..." she started.

"Please, call me Teena," Mrs. Mulder interrupted.

Mrs. Scully smiled. "And I'm Maggie," she said, then went on.
"Teena, I came here with Walter Skinner, Fox and Dana's boss at
the bureau. I think you've met him before?"

Mrs. Mulder nodded apprehensively. "He's the one ... he told me
Fox was dead," she said flatly.

"He didn't know," Mrs. Scully said in his defense. "We all thought
he was dead."

"Except Agent Scully," Mrs. Mulder said. "She said ..." She paused,
then continued, "Bill's funeral was just a few days after Fox
disappeared, and she was there. After the service, she came up to
me and told me Fox was alive. She said she hadn't seen him, but
she had a ... a very strong feeling that he was alive."

Mrs. Scully was surprised; Dana hadn't told her this. Had she had
a premonition, a dream, like Mrs. Scully herself had just before
Dana was abducted?

Mrs. Mulder seemed to realize Mrs. Scully was taken aback by her
words. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said anything. I
had no right."

Mrs. Scully leaned forward immediately, placing on hand on Mrs.
Mulder's arm. "No, really, it's all right," she said. "I was just
surprised, that's all. Dana isn't one to ... she doesn't really
believe in that sort of thing."

Mrs. Mulder smiled softly. "I know," she said. "And she was very
hesitant to tell me. I think she didn't quite believe it then. But
she ..."

"She wanted to believe," Mrs. Scully finished, smiling.

Mrs. Mulder nodded, returning the smile, then sobered and said,
"You said Mr. Skinner came up with you?"

"Yes," Mrs. Scully said. "He's waiting outside, but please don't
feel obligated to see him."

Mrs. Mulder shook off her words. "No, really, it's fine," she said.
"We might not have gotten off on the right foot, but he must mean
well to have come this far."

Mrs. Scully nodded as she stood. "I'll get him," she said, turning
toward the door.

When she stepped into the hall, Skinner was on his feet in
moments. "How is she?" he asked.

"She's fine," Mrs. Scully said, smiling. "I told her you were
here, and she'd like to see you."

Skinner now looked apprehensive. "Are you sure it's ..."

"She doesn't blame you, Mr. Skinner," Mrs. Scully said. "She's a
bit nervous, but she doesn't hold it against you."

Skinner looked at her, then nodded, and they turned to go into the
room.

==========
Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
12:14 p.m.

Scully was sitting in a chair just outside Samantha's room, her
cell phone resting in her lap. She'd had to escape the room after
Samantha's comment, taking a few minutes to herself to regain her
equilibrium.

It still hurt.

She was distracted from her thoughts as the phone chirped in her
lap. Turning it on, she took a deep breath before answering,
"Scully."

"It's Skinner," her boss answered. "I wanted to let you know we've
seen Mrs. Mulder, and she's agreed to provide a blood sample for
you. I'll be bringing it back with me."

"Thank you, sir," Scully said.

"Also, Mrs. Mulder is being released from the hospital today, so I
will be taking her and your mother to Greenwich. Your mother has
offered to stay with her until she is ready to come to Washington
in a few days. I'll be setting up an agency guard on the house."

"Thank you, sir," Scully repeated. "Sir, do you know when they
will be back in Greenwich? I'd like to speak to my mother when she
can talk."

"We should be there by early this evening," Skinner answered.
"I'll tell her you want to talk to her."

Scully started to thank him again but realized what she was doing
and stopped herself. "That's fine, sir," she said. "Please also
tell them both that Mulder and Samantha are doing fine."

"I'll do that," Skinner said, and they ended the call.

==========