TITLE: Blood Ties 11: Evolution
AUTHOR: Dawn
EMAIL: sunrise@lightfirst.com
ARCHIVE: Gossamer, MIJ -- others are fine, just let me know
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: XA
KEYWORDS: MSR, AU
SUMMARY: A missing child. Two opposing theories. Mulder and  Grey face a
case that
will test the brother bond to its limits. Will they come out stronger? Or be
torn apart?
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter and 1013
Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.
NOTES:  This is a completed story. I'll be posting the 17 chapters gradually
over the next
few days. The entire story will eventually be available on my website at
http://members.tripod.com/~dawnsunrise/index.html. Additional notes at the
end.
FEEDBACK: I'd love to hear from you.


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (1/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com 


Key West
Tuesday
2:43 PM


"I still say you should've bought the blue one."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know why you 
preferred that one, Mulder."

 "Exactly. Because it brought out your beautiful blue eyes."

A snort. "It brought out my ass, you mean. Or are you 
trying to claim the fact it was a thong had no bearing on 
your opinion?"

"Scully I'm hurt that after all our years together you would 
think me so shallow, so one dimensional, so..."

"Typically male?"

Mulder threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. 
Obviously nothing I could say will convince you. And it 
isn't as if I dislike the green suit. You look...amazing in it."

"Thank you." Scully eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the 
inevitable punchline. He didn't disappoint.

He leaned in close, breath sending tingles all the way down 
her spine. "After all, even covered up, it's an incredible 
ass."

"Mulder..." She broke off, corners of her mouth twitching.

Mulder, braced for a scathing comeback, froze in the act of 
plugging the key into the ignition. "What?"

The smile broadened, but Scully just shrugged her 
shoulders. "Nothing."

Mulder cocked his head, eyebrows raised. "Nothing? I don't 
think so. I just handed you a line guaranteed to get my butt 
kicked and all you do is smile at me? Who are you and 
what did you do with my Scully?"

The grin faded to the barest curve of her lips. "You're 
happy."

It obviously wasn't what he expected, and she smugly 
treasured the several seconds he spent flustered and off 
balance. Eventually, his eyes softened and he reached 
across the seat, lacing her fingers with his and bringing 
them to his lips.

"I am. Pretty amazing for a guy who once thought 
happiness wasn't part of his genetic make-up."

"I'm glad."

He shook his head, tugging her across the seat until only 
inches separated them, her face cupped between his palms. 
"You're responsible."

His lips descended, brushing across hers in a soft, almost 
reverent kiss. Nice, she thought, throat tight. Then her arms 
came up of their own volition, one hand snaking around his 
back, the other tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, 
and she lost herself in the taste and feel of him. 

Scully's teeth were fastened on that luscious lower lip, 
blissfully nibbling, when the sensation of being watched 
intruded. She pulled back, glancing over her shoulder. Sure 
enough, their rather enthusiastic display of affection 
seemed to be drawing more than casual attention from 
passersby. 

"Mulder."

"Hmm?" Undaunted by the removal of her lips, he 
contentedly began feasting on her neck, fingers doing 
maddening things to her right breast.

"We're...ah...in a convertible." 

"Mmm, I know. Isn't it great? The sun...*nibble*...the fresh 
air...*lick*..."

"The audience."

He froze, then removed his hand as if burned. Peering over 
his shoulder, he found himself staring straight into the face 
of a smirking teenage boy, who promptly gave him a 
"thumbs up."

"You...ah...may have a point. Much as I hate--and I do 
mean HATE--to admit it. Let's go."

He started the car and pulled carefully into traffic. But the 
smile lingered on his lips.

When they arrived at Rosa's house, Mulder shut off the 
engine and turned to her with a far too innocent expression. 
"How about you model that new bathing suit for me again? 
Then maybe we can...um...take a nap before dinner."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Tired, are we, Mulder?"

In the blink of an eye, innocent became lecherous. 
"Exhausted."

Whatever response she had planned flew out of her head 
when the door to the house opened and Rosa came out to 
meet them, brow furrowed. "Uh-oh. This doesn't look 
good."

"I told you we shouldn't let Skinner know where we were 
going."

They got out of the car. Mulder walked to meet Rosa while 
Scully pulled the spoils of their shopping trip from the back 
seat before joining them.

"Thank heavens you two are back. He's called three times 
since ten this morning." Rosa ushered them toward the 
house as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Rosa. When I gave him the number, I never 
really thought he'd use it." Mulder glanced at Scully in 
irritation. "So much for the belated honeymoon."

"It must be important, Mulder, you know he'd never..."

"I can't imagine what could be important enough to harass 
Rosa." Mulder turned to the older woman, face contrite. 
"Rosa, I'm sorry about this. Skinner had no right to..."

Her face scrunched up. "Skinner? You mean your boss, 
Walter? 'Lena's friend? What does he have to do with 
anything?"

Mulder stopped, one hand on the doorknob, to exchange a 
perplexed glance with Scully. She turned to Rosa with a 
small shake of her head.

"Rosa, I think we're confused. We assumed Wal...Mr. 
Skinner was the person who's been calling for us."

Rosa pushed past him and entered the house, shaking her 
head bemusedly. "Ay! Don't they teach you FBIs not to 
leap to conclusions? Walter isn't the one who's been ringing 
that phone off the hook, Fox. It's that brother of yours. 
Grey."

"Grey?" Mulder followed her into the kitchen, Scully on his 
heels.

Rosa handed him a pad of paper. On the top sheet she'd 
jotted Grey's name and cell phone number followed by 
three times: 10:00, 12:15, and 2:20. Something twisted 
unpleasantly in Mulder's stomach and his mouth went dry. 
The sensation must have bled through to his face, because 
Scully laid her hand on his arm.

"No more jumping to conclusions. Just call him."

He nodded. "I think... I'm going to use the phone in the 
bedroom."

The bedroom's dim coolness did little to alleviate the 
perspiration beading his upper lip. Mulder swiped at it 
absently with the back of one hand, then reached for the 
phone. Grey answered on the first ring.

"This is Grey McKenzie."

"Grey, it's Fox."

"Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

No small talk. No inquiry as to how he and Scully were 
enjoying their vacation. Mulder swallowed; mentally 
shored up his defenses.

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it Kristen?"

"No, Kristen is fine. She's at a seminar in Chicago."

"Then what?"

"It's Claire. Something's happened to Claire."

An image of Grey's niece, bright-eyed and triumphant as 
she hit a baseball, flashed through Mulder's mind. He'd 
become acquainted with all of the children in Grey's 
family, but Claire held a special place in his affections.

"Claire? Was there an accident? Is she hurt?"

"She's gone, Fox. Vanished. Kira put her to bed last night, 
just like always. When she came to get her for breakfast 
this morning, Claire wasn't there."

"Was she upset about anything? Could she have run away, 
be hiding somewhere nearby?"

"We've scoured the area, talked to neighbors. There's been 
no sign of her, and no one saw anything." His voice 
hardened. "There's something else you should know. Kira's 
ex-husband turned up a few weeks ago, got himself a 
lawyer. He's been causing trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"He's petitioning for visitation rights. He wants to see 
Claire."

Mulder let the implication of his brother's words sink in. 
"Do you really think he's capable...?"

The malice in Grey's tone startled him. "I know he is."

"All right, I'm on my way. Give us a chance to pack up and 
catch the next flight out of here. I'll let you know when 
we'll be arriving, but don't bother picking us up--we'll rent 
a car."

"Fox, I..." Grey's voice broke but he struggled to continue. 
"I don't know how to..."

Quietly. "Then don't. Hang on, we'll be there soon."

Scully was leaning in the doorway, face grave. "Grey's 
niece is missing?"

Mulder gave a quick nod as he pulled their suitcases out of 
the closet and began emptying drawers. "Kira hasn't seen 
her since she put her to bed last night. No one seems to 
know what happened."

Scully walked over to the bed and began organizing her 
own clothing. She glanced at Mulder from the corner of 
one eye as she laid shorts, tee shirts, and slacks into the 
suitcase. "But Grey thinks he does."

Mulder fished a pair of running shoes from under the bed. 
"You remember what Grey told us about Kira's ex?"

Scully's lips thinned. "He was physically abusive. She put 
up with it until he started to act out on Claire. It was what 
finally gave her the courage to divorce him."

"He disappeared about five years ago, right after the 
divorce. Has never paid a dime in alimony or child support. 
As far as Kira was concerned, it was good riddance."

"I can see where this is going. He showed up again, didn't 
he? Does Grey really think he's responsible for Claire's 
disappearance?"

Mulder snorted. "Think it? He's convinced. I can't say I 
blame him, considering the guy's history. And the fact that 
he's been trying to get his parental rights reinstated." 
Mulder stood up straight, shoving his fingers through hair 
already tousled by the trip in the convertible. "Scully, I'm 
so sorry. This was supposed to be..."

Her fingers, pressed gently against his lips, stopped the 
flow of words. "Hey, he's my brother, too. I'll call the 
airport; find out how soon we can get a flight."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment as if judging the 
sincerity of her statement. Slipping both arms around her 
waist he tugged her close, chin brushing the top of her 
head.

"I love you."

"I know."

She could feel his surprise at her unexpected joke, first in 
the released tension of his body and then in the smile 
pressed to her forehead. "Go ahead and make that phone 
call, Leia. I'll finish packing."

She was able to book a 5:15 plane to Miami, where they 
could catch a connecting flight. They wouldn't land in 
Raleigh until nearly eleven, but she knew Mulder would 
rather endure the inconvenience than wait until morning. 

She set the receiver in its cradle and just watched him for a 
moment, unable to shake a feeling of melancholy. He'd 
already thrown off the easy, relaxed aura of a man on 
vacation. The quick, efficient movement of his hands, stiff 
posture, and sharp, focused gaze all screamed Special 
Agent Mulder. Gone was the man who had coaxed her onto 
the beach in the middle of the night, spread a blanket, and 
made love to her under the stars. Scully drew in a slow 
breath, then released it in a rush, squaring her shoulders. 
Well, it had been glorious while it lasted.

Mulder looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and she smiled. 
"I'm going to go down and let Rosa know what's 
happening. Though knowing her, she's already figured most 
of it out."

His grin was brief, but genuine. "Not much gets past her, 
does it?"

Rosa was on the patio, a glass of lemonade on the table 
before her, the umbrella shading her from the unfettered 
heat of the late afternoon sun. She motioned Scully to sit 
down, concern written on her kind face.

"The honeymoon is over, eh?"

Scully's lips curved. "Mulder's right. Not much gets past 
you."

Rosa made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Three 
phone calls. And his voice... There was great pain."

"His niece is missing. It looks as if she's been kidnapped."

Rosa gazed at her, empathy clouding her brown eyes. "Dios 
mio. Too much sorrow to touch one life."

It took Scully a moment to realize Rosa was speaking of 
Mulder, not his brother. "My mother says it's the strongest 
character that God gives the most challenges."

Rosa's weathered brown hand covered hers. "Your mama is 
a wise woman, chiquita. It would seem He has challenges 
for you both."

The rasp of the patio door announced Mulder's presence. 
Rosa stood and looked up at him, gaze shrewd. "You are 
ready?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "As much as I'll 
ever be."

She bobbed her head, understanding the depth of his 
response. Linking one arm with Mulder's and the other with 
Scully's, she led them into the house, to the front door 
where their suitcases sat forlornly on the smooth tile. While 
Mulder carried them out to the car, Rosa embraced Scully.

"God give you strength for what lies ahead."

Scully blinked back the hot rush of tears, tightening her 
arms. "Thank you. For everything."

"De nada. It was my pleasure."

Mulder had returned to stand at Scully's shoulder, shuffling 
his feet. When Rosa released Scully he leaned down, 
catching the older woman in a bear hug and pressing a kiss 
to her cheek.

"Come and visit us in DC. You're always welcome."

Rosa chuckled, her laugher vibrating against his chest. "Ay, you keep it too cold up there! Maybe this summer." 

She stepped back, holding his face between her palms, her 
expression intense. "I sense a difficult path ahead of you, 
hijo mio. The darkness can pull souls together or tear them 
apart. You must choose." She patted his cheek and dropped her hands. "Tell that brother of yours that the little one is in my prayers. As are you all."

"Thank you. I will."

Mulder slipped his arm around Scully as they walked to the 
car. "She's right, you know. Whatever happens--this isn't 
going to be easy. For any of us."

She squeezed the fingers curled around her waist before 
crossing to her door. "Nine years, Mulder. Easy has never 
been part of our vocabulary."

He chuffed softly and started the car. "You got me there, 
babe."

As they pulled out of the driveway they waved to Rosa, 
little more than a muted shadow behind the screen door. 
She watched until the car turned the corner and 
disappeared.

"Keep an eye on them, Waldo," she murmured. "Keep them 
safe."

Continued in Chapter 2

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (2/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com

Raleigh, NC
Tuesday
11:56 PM


Mulder stared out the window at the field of twinkling lights, the 
low buzz humming through his body ratcheting up a notch. The 
already long flight, extended by a delay in Miami, left him feeling 
stretched tight, like a rubberband ready to snap. The burden of 
Grey's need weighed heavily on his shoulders, conspiring to keep 
him wide-eyed and sleepless throughout the trip. Whatever 
unpleasantness lay ahead once the plane hit the ground would be 
preferable to the forced inactivity of the past seven hours.

A passing flight attendant motioned for him to raise his seatback. 
Mulder nodded, shifting carefully so as not to dislodge the heavy 
head on his shoulder. Scully's face, soft and peaceful in sleep, was 
a balm to his restless spirit. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind 
her ear, then skimmed his finger down the smooth skin of her 
cheek. The steady cadence of her breath skipped a beat, her lashes 
fluttering open to reveal blue eyes still cloudy with sleep.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. We're about to land."

Scully blinked and sat up, stretching catlike before pressing the 
button to raise her seat. She fussed for a moment with crumpled 
hair, then gave up.

"I can't believe I slept through the whole flight."

Mulder glanced down at her, lips quirking. "My fault. I didn't 
exactly let you get a full eight hours last night."

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Believe me when I 
say I will always forgive you that kind of transgression."

He slipped his hand over hers where it rested on the seat arm, 
turning once again to look out the window. Scully watched the 
amusement drain from his features, replaced by a wary, pensive 
expression.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Nah. I was having too much fun watching the guy across the aisle 
drool."

Scully flipped her hand and wove her fingers between his. "You'll 
do what you can, Mulder. We both will."

He blew out a long breath, staring down at their joined hands. "I 
keep thinking about Kira, how helpless she must feel. She's got to 
be out of her mind with worry."

"Kira's a survivor, Mulder. She must possess a core of steel to 
endure everything she has and to overcome it. Don't sell her short."

*Don't compare her to your mother*, she wanted to add. *Not 
everyone falls to pieces in the midst of tragedy. Some actually 
persevere and grow stronger.*

Mulder was silent as they debarked, collected their suitcases, and 
arranged for a rental car. Scully let him be, well aware of the 
headspace he'd entered as he prepared to immerse himself in what 
was essentially a kidnapping case--albeit one with a truckload of 
emotional baggage.

The late hour and nearly deserted roads shortened the thirty-minute 
trip to twenty, getting them to the precinct at the ungodly hour of 
1:15 a.m. Scully shivered as she stepped out of the car, the chill 
magnified by skin grown accustomed to sunshine and tropical 
breezes. They'd changed clothes during the layover in Miami, 
trading shorts and tee shirts for jeans and sweaters, and she was 
now profoundly grateful.

Mulder tugged open the glass door and guided her through, 
squinting in the glare from bright fluorescent lights. A lone 
sergeant posted behind the front desk was the only sign of life in 
the otherwise deserted lobby. He stood as they approached, brown 
eyes locked onto Mulder's face. 

Mulder reached for his ID. "Hi. We're..."

"No introduction necessary--one look at that mug of yours tells it 
all. You must be Fox." Lips twisting into something between a 
smirk and a grin, he extended a meaty hand. "Joe Wade. Grey said 
to expect you both."

Mulder allowed his hand to be swallowed in a bone-crushing grip, 
amused when Wade shook Scully's as if her fingers were made of 
glass. 

"Your brother is in the conference room--down that way, third 
door on the left." The smile slid off Wade's face, transforming him 
from desk clerk to grizzled veteran. "I think they're about ready to 
pack it in. Not much more to be done tonight."

"Thanks."

"I suppose that means there haven't been any breakthroughs," 
Scully murmured as they moved down the hallway. 

"Did you think there would be?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I guess a small part of me was still 
holding out hope that it was all a big mistake. Whether that meant 
finding Claire camped out at a friend's house or brought home by 
her father with a credible explanation."

The conference room door hung slightly ajar and they could hear 
Grey's voice, terse and impatient. "There has to be something else 
we can do, some other avenue to pursue."

His partner's response was patient but weary. "Grey, it's after one 
in the morning. We've put out the APB on Talbot, filed a missing 
persons report on Claire. There's just not much more we can do 
until morning. For God's sake, go home and get some sleep while 
you can."

"How do you expect me to sleep when my niece is out there 
somewhere, most likely in the hands of the bastard who used to 
abuse her? Anyway, Fox and Dana..."

"Are here." Mulder nudged open the door and they stepped inside. 

Mark Preston sat slumped over a table, arms folded. Spread across 
its surface were various file folders, reports, and pictures. Across 
the room Grey ceased pacing like a caged tiger and propped his 
hands on his hips, a strained smile erasing the scowl from his face.

"What took you so long, little brother? I was beginning to worry 
you'd ditched us for one more night in paradise."

"Our flight was delayed a bit. Guess I should've called."

Scully surprised them both by simply walking over and slipping 
her arms around Grey's waist. "I'm so sorry, Grey. We'll do 
whatever we can to help."

A moment's hesitation and then his arms came up, much of the 
tension leaving his body in a whoosh. His voice dropped to barely 
more than a whisper but remained steady. "Thanks, darlin'."

"How's Kira holding up?" Mulder circled the table as he spoke, 
eyes roving over each piece of paper.

"She's scared." Grey chuffed, watching his brother prowl. "Pissed. 
My little sister isn't one to give up without a fight. My folks took 
her home with them about an hour ago."

Mark caught Scully's eye and tilted his head toward the door. She 
dipped her chin slightly and stepped out of Grey's embrace. 

"It's been a long day for us all. I know I could use a shower and 
something hot to drink. Grey, why don't we go back to your place? 
You can bring Mulder and me up to speed on what you know so 
far, and we can all grab a few hours of sleep."

"Grey, you live ten minutes from here," Mark said when his 
partner hesitated. "If anything comes up, you'll be the first to 
know. Go on."

Propriety toward his brother and Scully achieved what Mark's 
previous badgering could not. Grey's shoulders slumped and he 
nodded. "Guess you're right. Y'all deserve a break before I start 
asking you to jump through hoops."

Mulder looked up, mouth twitching. "No problem. Your buddy 
Walt's always telling Scully and me that managing the X-Files is 
like running a circus."

Grey shook his head, but a little of the bleakness left his eyes. 
"Don't take this the wrong way, Fox. But I'm not surprised."


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
2:33 AM

Scully shuffled into the family room, hair damp, face scrubbed 
clean of make-up, and clad in worn sweats. Grey handed her a mug 
of steaming tea, relinquishing his seat beside Mulder and moving 
to a chair across from the couch. She melted into the soft cushion 
with a contented sigh and took a long sip.

"Have you two come up with a game plan?"

Mulder slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I definitely 
want to see the crime scene--" He winced. "Claire's bedroom. And 
I need to talk to Kira. If her ex does have Claire, I need to get a 
better handle on what we're dealing with."

"We've had his apartment under surveillance all day. There hasn't 
been hide nor hair of him." Grey spoke through gritted teeth. "He's 
got her. I'd bet money on it."

"You're probably right. The overwhelming majority of child 
kidnappings are perpetrated by a parent or other family member. 
But you're a cop, Grey. You of all people know the danger in 
prematurely narrowing the focus of an investigation."

"Don't patronize me, Fox. You weren't around when Kira was 
married to that bastard; you don't know what it was like. Bruises 
up and down her arms, split lips, black eyes. I've seen first hand 
what the son of a bitch is capable of."

"Hey." Mulder's soft, even response brought his brother up short. 
"I'm on your side, remember? You asked for my help, Grey; you 
have to trust me to give it. We both know you're way too close to 
this one."

Grey looked ready to protest, but his eyes slipped shut and he 
nodded. "Yeah. I guess I am." He pinned Mulder with a look of 
fierce determination. "But don't expect me to just sit back and let 
you drive on this one. I can't do that."

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Fair enough."

"Grey, I'm not sure how to ask this, but..." Scully took another sip 
from her mug as she chose her words. "Kira has always impressed 
me as strong and independent. How--"

"--did someone so intelligent wind up married to such a loser?" 
Grey asked.

"Something like that."

Grey sighed, propping his chin on steepled fingers. "I'm not sure I 
have an answer for you. I can tell you that Shannon was a tough 
act to follow: cheerleader, homecoming queen, fellas lining up to 
take her out on a date. Kira was always quieter, a little more 
serious and, I don't know--introspective? It tended to put guys off. 
Steve Talbot saw what a lot of them didn't--the girl inside. And he 
can be very charming when he sets his mind to it. He swept my 
baby sister off her feet." 

Grey's fingers curled into fists. "By the time Kira truly realized 
what she'd gotten herself into she had his ring on her finger and his 
child inside her body. She toughed it out for five years before 
finally calling it quits."

Mulder leaned forward. "Talbot disappeared for nearly five years 
before showing up here again. Do you have any idea where he was 
and what he was doing during that time?"

"Other than dodging alimony and child support, you mean?" Grey 
shook his head. "Supposedly he was living in Atlanta for the past 
year and a half, freelancing for the local newspapers. He's a 
photographer. Before that?" He shrugged. 

"We need to track down every move he made after he and Kira 
divorced. If he does have Claire--and yes, I'm still saying 'if'--it's 
likely he might revisit one of his old haunts."

"I've got just the person for the job." Grey frowned. "Speaking of 
which--does Walt know I dragged you two into this?"

Mulder let his head drop back, then rolled it from side to side in an 
effort to loosen tight muscles. "We're technically still on vacation. 
I don't see that we need ol' Walt's approval."

Scully dug her elbow into his waist, eliciting a gust of air and a 
glare. "He's right, Mulder. Skinner thinks we're in Florida, soaking 
up sun on the beach. If word gets back to him that we're knee-deep 
in a kidnapping case, he'll go ballistic. I'll give him a call in the 
morning."

"Yes, dear."

Grey smiled at her, but his eyes were shadowed with grief and 
regret. "Fox wouldn't let me tell him, so I'm gonna say it to you, 
darlin'. I'm sorrier than I can say about taking you away from your 
vacation. I'll make it up to y'all, I promise."

Scully reached over to place her hand on top of his. "There's 
nothing to apologize for, Grey. We're right where we want to be."

Grey squeezed her hand and then stood. "I think I'd better let you 
two get some sleep. I know it was a long flight, and you both are 
looking pretty rough around the edges.  I was hoping to head back 
to the station as soon as it's light."

Scully took her mug into the kitchen, then popped her head back 
around the corner. "I'm going up. You coming, Mulder?"

"I'll be there in a minute." When she'd disappeared, he called, 
"Don't hog the blanket."

Her indignant reply drifted from the stairs. "I do NOT hog the 
blanket."

Mulder smirked at Grey and nodded.

Scully's voice, fainter now. "I saw that, Mulder."

Grey blew out a long breath and shook his head. "That is a 
dangerous woman."

"Tell me something I don't know." Mulder studied his brother. 
"You're not going to sleep at all, are you?"

Grey looked away. "I'm too wired. I think I'll go over the file one 
more time, see if I might have missed anything."

"You're not going to do Kira or Claire any good by running 
yourself to the ground, Grey. The best thing you can do for them 
right now is get some rest."

"This from the world's worst insomniac."

Mulder chuckled. "The voice of experience." The humor faded and 
he grasped his brother's arm. "We're going to find her, Grey."

Grey's lips curved into a smile that never touched his eyes. He 
patted Mulder's cheek; turned away. "Don't a make a promise you 
might not be able to keep, little brother."

Mulder opened his mouth to protest; found he couldn't. 

Grey tipped his head toward the stairs. "You've got a beautiful 
woman waiting to steal the blanket from you. Go on."

He hesitated, wishing for words that would take the darkness from 
his brother's eyes, words that could give Grey something solid, 
something concrete to hang onto. Words that didn't exist.

"Go on, Fox. I'm all right."

So he went, unable to shake the vague feeling that he'd failed 
before he'd begun. 


Continued in Chapter 3


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (3/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh
Wednesday
7:48 AM


"I just spoke to Collins. Still no activity at Talbot's apartment." 
Mark's head seesawed back and forth as he watched Grey pace. 

"What about Atlanta? Is someone checking out his old place?"

"We put the local boys on it. Haven't heard back yet."

"We need to stay on top of them, make sure..." Grey turned, words 
trailing off as he really looked at his partner for the first time all 
morning. "You look like hell."

Tie missing, shirt rumpled, and in definite need of a razor, Mark 
grinned wearily up at him. "I feel like hell. It's a matched set."

"I completely forgot you've been here all night. Why didn't you say 
something?" He held up a hand before Mark could answer. "Never 
mind. I guess I know why. Go home, partner."

"You sure? I'll stay if you need me." A jaw-cracking yawn 
lessened the sincerity of his words.

"Nah, we'll be fine."

Mark shoved back his chair and stood. "Don't have to tell me 
twice. I'll check in later, after sleep and a shower."

Grey wrinkled his nose. "I'd reverse the order if I were you."

"Ha, ha."

Mark shuffled to the door, stepping aside to admit Mulder and 
Scully, each carrying two cups of coffee.

"I'll just take mine to go." He liberated Scully of one cup, raising it 
in a "cheers" gesture. "See y'all later."

"I sent him home." Grey accepted a cup from Mulder's 
outstretched hand and took a long draught. His eyebrows shot up 
and he lifted the cup to examine it more closely. "This is NOT 
from the pot down the hall."

"Even Mulder wouldn't drink the stuff in the pot down the hall--
and that's saying something." Scully ignored her partner's mock 
pout. "We bumped into Sergeant Wade on his way out the door 
and he showed us the little place around the corner."

Grey took another sip. Sighed. "Remind me to thank him." He 
jerked his thumb at a file folder on the table. "Preliminary forensic 
results."

Scully sat down and pulled the folder toward her while Mulder 
loomed at her back. "What have we got?"

"One word. Nothing." 

Scully looked up. "Nothing?"

Grey looked as if he was barely containing the desire to hurl the 
coffee against the wall. "No signs of forced entry. No fingerprints--
other than Claire's and Kira's. No extraneous fibers, hairs. It's as if 
she just...disappeared into thin air."

Scully flipped through the paperwork in the folder. "This is 
preliminary, Grey. They've still got a couple partial prints to check 
and..."

"And we're going to go over the scene again, with a fine-toothed 
comb." Mulder came around to prop a hip on the table. "As 
someone once told me, the answers are there. You just have to 
know where to look for them."

Scully pursed her lips and looked up at him. "Sounds like a wise 
person."

His reply was interrupted by a soft, feminine voice. "Grey?

Three heads swiveled as one to find Kira standing tentatively in the 
doorway. Eyes shadowed with grief and exhaustion brightened 
when she saw Mulder and Scully.

"Fox. Dana. You're here."

"Of course we are." Mulder stood and crossed the room. "We came 
as soon as we could."

She squeezed his hand; looked over at Scully. "Thank you." 

"How are you, Kira?" His voice communicated much more than 
the words--compassion, sorrow, concern, support.

"She's going to be all right." Kira swallowed, tipped her chin up. 
"With you, Dana, and Grey working together, I know we'll find 
Claire soon."

"We're going to do everything we can for Claire." Mulder looked 
at her intently. "But how are *you*, Kira?"

Tears welled up but Kira blinked them back. "I can't think about 
me right now, Fox. If I do, I'll have to think about me without 
Claire. And I...I can't do that."

"Come and sit down, Kira." Scully pulled out the chair beside her. 
"We need to ask you some questions."

Kira accepted the chair but grimaced. "I've been over this so many 
times I'm beginning to feel like a recording. Don't you have it 
down by now?"

Scully smiled. "Bear with us. There's always the possibility that 
telling it one more time will jog your memory to uncover a detail 
you may have forgotten. And the same story can sound different to 
a fresh pair of ears."

Kira ducked her head. "You know I'll do anything..."

Mulder grabbed a chair from the other side of the table and 
straddled it, arms folded across the back. "Tell us about the night 
before Claire went missing, Kira. What did you do that evening, 
before she went to bed?"

Kira sighed; brushed her fingers through the chestnut curls that 
framed her face. "It was an extremely ordinary evening. Nothing 
unusual or exciting happened."

"That's all right. Just walk us through it."

"All right. I guess this is your party." She paused. "After dinner..."

"What did you have for dinner?"

She stared at him with raised brows. "What did we have for 
*dinner*?" When Mulder nodded she gave her head a little shake. 
"I'm not sure I... Wait a minute. It was chicken. I started out baking 
it in the oven, but the electricity was on the fritz so I wound up 
grilling it instead."

"What do you mean, 'the electricity was on the fritz'?"

"It kept flickering. Going out for a few minutes and then coming 
back on."

Mulder looked at Grey, who shook his head. "I doubt anyone 
checked. Power was on when we got there, so we had no reason 
to."

Kira's gaze darted between their faces. "What are you saying? You 
think that has something to do with Claire's disappearance?"

"Just covering the bases, sweetheart." Grey's easy smile couldn't 
hide the flicker of excitement in his voice.

"So you ate dinner. What happened after that?" Mulder asked.

"Claire had some homework, a project for school. She had to make 
a diorama for a book she'd read-- 'Charlotte's Web.' We worked on 
it together until it was time for her to go to bed." Kira pressed 
fingers to her lips, blinking furiously. "She was so proud of it. It's 
still sitting on the kitchen table."

Scully got her a cup of water from the cooler and they waited in 
silence while Kira sipped, composing herself. She met Mulder's 
eyes and nodded.

"The police report says you put Claire to bed about eight-thirty. 
And that you checked on her again at ten-thirty."

Kira nodded. "Right before I went to bed."

"Think carefully--did anything unusual happen during that time? 
Any odd noises, phone calls, anything at all."

Kira hesitated; firmly shook her head. "Nothing. Claire went right 
to sleep and was sleeping soundly when I checked on her."

"And you didn't hear anything during the night?"

"No. And I'm a light sleeper. Which is why I couldn't believe it 
when I went to wake her and she was gone. I can't understand how 
she could have been taken out of the house without me hearing 
something." Her voice broke and this time tears spilled down her 
cheeks as she thumped her fist against the tabletop. "I should have 
heard something."

Mulder placed a hand over hers. "Kira, this wasn't your fault. You 
know that, don't you?"

She didn't remove her hand, but her eyes evaded his. "She's my 
child, Fox. I'm responsible for her safety."

"And you exercised that responsibility. You had her in a locked 
house, tucked into her bed. Whatever happened, it was beyond 
your control. You did all the right things. Never doubt that."

Kira's reply was barely audible. "But it wasn't enough. Was it?"

Mulder shook his head and sat back. "Sometimes it isn't."

The hidden sorrow in his words pulled Scully's attention from 
Kira. She knew much about Claire's disappearance would trigger 
painful memories, but Mulder's face betrayed nothing except 
compassion.

"Kira, I have a final question, and I'd like you to think very 
carefully before you answer."

"Okay."

Mulder took a deep breath. "Do you think your ex-husband is 
responsible for Claire's disappearance?"

Kira's gaze darted to Grey's face before she looked Mulder 
squarely in the eye. "No. I don't."

Grey hissed and stood up, face twisted into a scowl. "Listen, Kira, 
I..."

"No, it's time for YOU to listen, Grey. Because you haven't, so 
far." Kira's sharp retort startled them all. She turned back to 
Mulder and Dana, voice softer but eyes like flint. "I will be the first 
person to admit that marrying Steve Talbot was one of the worst 
mistakes of my life. He's controlling, manipulative, and has a nasty 
temper." She grimaced. "Not to mention a helluva backhand. I've 
never regretted ending my marriage. It was the best thing for me, 
and for Claire.

"I've known the man for nearly twelve years; lived with him for 
five of them. I know what he is and isn't capable of. He's hurt 
Claire and me, yes, in the heat of the moment when he's lost 
control. But something like this--calculated? Planned? It's not in 
him."

Grey stalked back to brace his palms on the table, leaning into 
Kira's space. "How can you still defend him? He came back here to 
get Claire, didn't he? Is it such a stretch to think he'd take matters 
into his own hands?"

"He came back to SEE Claire, Grey. He didn't even ask for full 
custody, just visiting privileges. For God's sake, he hired a lawyer-
-what kind of kidnapper does that?"

"A desperate one."

Kira laughed bitterly. "Yeah? Well, I have news for you--he didn't 
have anything to be desperate about. My lawyer already warned 
me the judge would probably allow Steve to see Claire on a limited 
basis, under supervision."

Grey looked as if she'd slapped him. "How...? He hit her, Kira! 
Why would a judge let him anywhere near her?"

Kira shrugged. "According to Steve, he's cleaned up his act. He 
hasn't taken a drink in over a year." She huffed. "He even took a 
class on anger management."

Grey stared at her a moment, then abruptly straightened. "Son of a 
bitch." It was more of a growl than a curse, punctuated by his foot 
connecting solidly with the plastic chair. He stalked out the door 
without pausing or looking back.

Thick silence blanketed the room until Mulder shoved his own 
chair back. "I, uh..." He tipped his head toward the hallway and 
Scully nodded.

As Mulder followed his brother, Scully focused her attention on 
the woman seated beside her. Kira had dropped her head into her 
hands, face hidden by a curtain of dark curls.

"Are you all right?"

Kira's snuffle of laughter held a ragged edge. "All right? My baby 
is missing, could be in the hands of...of..." She sucked in a shaky 
breath. "And my damn brother can't let go of an old grudge long 
enough to do his job."

"That's not fair, Kira. He's doing everything he can to find Claire--I 
don't think he slept a wink last night."

Kira's shoulders slumped and she lowered her hands to look at 
Scully. "I know he is. But, Dana, he's letting his hatred for Steve 
blind him to any other possibilities. And that terrifies me."

"He asked Mulder and me to help--remember? On some level I 
think he recognizes his own bias. To tell you the truth, I'm 
surprised he's been allowed lead the investigation--he's too close to 
this."

"They almost pulled him off. If it hadn't been for Mark, I'm sure 
they would have." Kira scrubbed at bloodshot eyes. "Maybe it 
would have been best if they had."

"You don't mean that."

Kira traced the woodgrain of the tabletop with one finger. "I don't 
know. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I'm feeling right 
now. Dana, I love my brother, and I know he loves me. But 
sometimes I'm not sure the Kira he loves is a real person. 
Sometimes... Sometimes I don't think he really knows me at all."

She sighed and shook her head, eyes hardening. "I loved Steve 
Talbot. A part of me still does, though I'd never admit it to my 
family. I know Grey likes to think of me as this sweet, innocent 
child, seduced and deceived by Steve. But the truth of the matter is 
that I saw the dark and dangerous side to him." She looked at 
Scully defiantly. "And I liked it."

Scully's lips curved. "If you're expecting to shock me, you've 
missed the mark." She laughed quietly at Kira's raised eyebrows. "I 
was raised by a sea captain in a household run with military 
precision, Kira. I'm well aware of how tiresome being a 'good girl' 
can become. I've fallen for one or two bad boys myself."

"Yeah?" Kira smiled and a little of the weariness melted from her 
face. " But you're with Fox now, and he'd hardly be considered... 
What?"

Scully's smile had become a smirk. "Let's just say Mulder's not 
exactly the poster boy for FBI agents. And if you polled my family 
on whether he's a suitable partner for me, well, you'd get mixed 
results."

Kira digested this information, her smile slowly fading. "I know 
my family will never understand what I saw in Steve. But he is 
Claire's father. Maybe he's been a pretty poor excuse for one, but I 
believe in his own way he loves her. And he wouldn't do this, 
Dana. He wouldn't."

Scully gave Kira's arm a gentle squeeze. "If there's one thing you 
can count on about Fox Mulder, it's that he's never afraid to think 
outside the box. He's going to go by the evidence, Kira, not 
popular opinion."

Kira bit lip, eyes welling with tears. "Thank you."

Before Scully could respond, Grey stuck his head inside the door. 
"Dana, we're going to head over to the house now. Fox went to get 
the car."

Scully gave Kira's arm another quick squeeze, then stood and 
headed for the door. 

Grey's eyes remained on Kira, who was nervously gathering up her 
purse, as Scully walked past. "I'll be there in a minute."

Kira slipped the straps over her shoulder and headed for the door, 
eyes on the floor. Grey's extended arm stopped her, and her head 
snapped up, eyes blazing. 

"What is it, Grey? Because I don't..."

"I'm sorry."

The broken, lost tone of his voice defused her anger but not the 
hurt inside. "Okay."

"I just..." Grey looked away, blinking hard. "I'm scared, Mouse. 
This is my job; it's what I'm supposed to be good at. And I'm so 
afraid of letting you down. Of letting Claire down."

Kira's breath hitched and she lurched forward, wrapping her arms 
around his waist and burying her face in his shirt. "I understand, 
Grey." She choked out the words past a throat filled with tears. 
"I'm afraid it's too late for me. I think I've let her down already."


Continued in Chapter 4

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (4/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


133 Waterbrook Lane
Wednesday
9:02 AM


The diorama sat forlornly on the kitchen table, just as Kira 
described. Inside it a pink construction paper pig gazed up at a 
dangling yarn spider. Scully picked up a sheet of notebook paper 
and perused the painstakingly neat cursive, lips quirking at Claire's 
passionate diatribe against the butchering of pigs.

"Does she realize that this would mean no more bacon with her 
scrambled eggs?"

"Claire hasn't touched bacon or ham since she discovered that 
book." Grey chuffed. "Kira's worried she'll read one about a calf 
next. She says she can't cope with a vegetarian."

Scully moved down the short hallway toward Claire's bedroom, 
relieved to see a bit of Grey's spark return. He'd been 
uncharacteristically silent on the drive to Kira's house, and she'd 
taken Mulder's lead and let him be. Whatever had passed between 
him and Kira had left him drained and subdued.

Claire's room was an eclectic mish-mash of little girl and big girl, 
princess and tomboy. *NSync and The Little Mermaid posters 
hung side by side, and American Girl dolls shared shelf space with 
baseballs and a catcher's mitt. Mulder stood in front of a large 
window that overlooked the backyard.

"Any luck?"

He startled, one hand jerking reflexively to the gun at his hip. 
Scully skirted the twin bed to stand by his side.

"Sorry."

"'S okay. That's what I get for woolgathering." He smiled down at 
her but something dark lurked behind his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"Just a little tired. Grey wasn't the only one who didn't sleep much 
last night." His eyes neatly dodged hers. "Did you check the 
power?"

Scully let it slide, well aware that little girl rooms held bittersweet 
memories for her partner. "We checked the cables and the fuses. 
There was a coat of dust an inch thick on the fuse box, and the 
lines were all intact. The ground around the meter is still soft from 
the rain they had a few days ago. It would be impossible for the 
kidnapper not to leave footprints." She sighed. "Just as there are no 
prints in the ground outside this window or any other. And 
absolutely no marks to indicate forced entry."

"Nor are there signs of a struggle." Mulder gestured toward the 
unmade bed. "The sheets and blanket are still tucked in. Nothing 
was knocked over or broken. The books, toys--everything appears 
to be in place."

Scully walked over to the nightstand and lifted the framed photo of 
a dark-haired man with intense brown eyes. "There's a logical 
answer to that, Mulder. Claire may well have gone willingly--if the 
kidnapper was her father."

Mulder chewed his lip. "Kira's convinced it's not Talbot."

"And Grey is equally convinced that it is. Neither one is operating 
with objectivity. They're both too emotionally invested."

"You'll get no argument from me on that."

But his eyes wandered back to the window, their darkness more 
pronounced.

"Mulder. What are you thinking?"

His lips twisted into something that was more grimace than smile. 
"You don't want to know."

The edge of anguish in his voice surprised her. "Of course I do."

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating her face, then jerked his 
thumb at the window. "Did you notice the trees?"

Mystified, she joined him and peered out the glass. A line of tall fir 
trees marked the eastern border of Kira's yard, their tops singed in 
a disturbingly familiar pattern. Scully's stomach dropped to her 
toes.

"Mulder..."

"Have you looked at the clocks?" Before she could turn her head 
he plowed on, voice tight and defensive. "I'll spare you the trouble-
-they're all nine minutes slow."

Scully folded her arms with a shake of her head. "Mulder, you're 
not... Are you suggesting that Claire was abducted by aliens?"

He looked away, jaw clenched.

"Slow down a minute and think about this. Grey called us in 
because he trusts us. He's counting on your profiling skills to catch 
a kidnapper. You can't do this to him. You can't make this into an 
X-File."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Do you really believe I *want* that, 
Scully? You think it's my choice? What the hell am I supposed to 
think if the only evidence I have points in that direction?"

"What direction?" Grey stood in the doorway, eyebrows knit 
together as his focus shifted between their faces. "What evidence?"

Scully's fingers dug into Mulder's forearm. "Nothing concrete. We 
really haven't had much more luck than forensics did."

Grey shook his head, stepping closer. His eyes locked onto his 
brother's face. "Don't bullshit me. What evidence, Fox?"

Mulder stared at a point just past Grey's left shoulder, unable to 
meet the intensity of his gaze. "Scully's right. I've seen nothing to 
indicate that someone broke into this house and took Claire by 
force."

"But you have seen something you think is significant. It's written 
all over your face. What is it?"

"It's nothing concrete. I need time to..."

Grey crossed the room in three strides until he was in Mulder's 
face. "Don't. I told you up front that I won't be brushed aside. If 
you've found something--anything--you think is important, then I 
want to know about it."

Mulder swallowed, then looked directly at his brother for the first 
time. "There's no evidence that a man kidnapped Claire from this 
house. But there is evidence she was taken."

Grey's face went blank with confusion. "What are you saying? 
That she was kidnapped by a woman?"

Scully watched Mulder's fingers curl into fists as he braced himself 
to deliver the bomb. "Grey, what evidence I've found points to 
abduction. Alien abduction."

Grey blew out a puff of air, half snort, half laugh, catching himself 
when Mulder's face remained stony. "You're not serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about this."

"You..." Grey's face flushed and he spun on his heel. He paced 
across the room and back again, one hand raking through his hair. 
"I can't believe this. I understand if you have reservations about 
Talbot, but this..."

Mulder worked hard to keep his voice calm and even. "Listen to 
me. You have no physical evidence to corroborate a kidnapping. 
On the other hand, I can cite multiple signs consistent with alien 
abduction."

Grey's expression twisted into a sneer. "What--you saw little green 
men hiding in the woods? There's a spaceship parked around the 
corner?"

Mulder visibly flinched and Scully stepped forward. "Stop it, Grey. 
You wanted to know what Mulder found. Let him tell you."

Grey laced his arms across his chest, eyes frigid. "Fine. I'm 
listening."

Mulder took a deep breath. "The trees out there have heat damage. 
All the clocks in the house are exactly nine minutes slow. There 
was an interruption of the electricity last night." He ticked the 
items off, one finger at a time.  

"Each one of those could have a completely ordinary explanation."

"Maybe so. But taken together, they point to something 
extraordinary."

Grey glared at his brother for a long moment, then turned on 
Scully. "You agree with him?"

Scully looked up into Mulder's eyes; saw him braced for rejection. 
She turned a cool gaze on Grey. "I believe in Mulder's abilities as 
an agent. And I've seen too much to dismiss alien abduction as 
impossibility. If Mulder thinks that avenue warrants further 
investigation, then I think you should pay attention to him."

The tension that leaked out of Mulder's body was palpable. Scully 
surreptitiously hooked her little finger through his and squeezed.

Grey turned away, speaking through gritted teeth. "You two want 
to chase flying saucers? Fine. Just don't ask me to follow. I'm 
going to check in with the guys at the station, see if there's any 
word on Talbot. I'll be in the car."

The stricken expression on Mulder's face made Scully's throat 
ache. Without letting go of his fingers she reached up with her free 
hand to cradle his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheek.

"Give him a chance, love. This is all pretty new to him." She lifted 
an eyebrow. "It took me years to reach this point."

It was obvious his heart wasn't in his smile. "You were a tough 
sell, all right." 

She dropped her hand and started for the door, pulled up short 
when Mulder didn't follow. "Mulder?"

"I'd like to poke around here a bit longer, maybe talk to a few 
neighbors."

"You want me to tell Grey to go ahead?"

He shook his head. "No, I want you to go with him." He lifted a 
hand to stall her protest. "The rest of the forensic analysis should 
be coming through. You'll know best whether anything needs to be 
sent on to the Bureau. And I...I could use a little time, Scully."

She hesitated; nodded. "All right. I'll come back and pick you up in 
about an hour."

"Make it an hour and a half and you've got a deal." He must have 
read some emotion in her face because he leaned in and brushed a 
kiss across her lips. "I'm okay, Scully."

He wandered into the living room, standing in the shadows and 
watching through the large picture window as Scully climbed into 
the car and spoke to Grey. His brother glanced up at the house, 
distance rendering his expression unreadable, before throwing the 
car into gear and pulling out of the driveway.

Mulder let himself out the back door and walked across the yard. 
He stared up at the crisped treetops, trying hard to banish the sick 
feeling that had settled in his chest from the moment he'd noticed 
them. As desperately as he'd searched for proof of extraterrestrial 
life, now he hoped with equal fervor not to find it. 

He propped his hands on his hips and dropped his head, closing his 
eyes against the image of Grey's face. Disbelief. Anger. Scorn. It 
was the last that cut the deepest, left him raw and aching. Scully 
was right; it had taken her years to accept the most extreme of 
possibilities. But from the very beginning she'd respected the 
journey. He'd never looked in her eyes and seen...

He shook his head and turned away to scan the rest of the yard. A 
large wooden sandbox sat in the shade of an oak tree. The canvas 
tarp meant to cover it was askew, a bright yellow handle peeking 
out from beneath. Mulder moved close enough to tug the canvas 
completely off. It was riddled with scorch marks--burned 
completely through in spots. He bit down hard on his lip when he 
saw what lay beneath.

What had once been a collection of sand toys were now brightly 
colored but barely recognizable blobs. Mulder crouched and 
picked up what must once have been a green pail, now a lopsided 
puddle of plastic. Heart pounding, he stirred the sand with his 
finger, uncovering small, polished lumps of glass.

"Mind telling me what you're doing there?"

Mulder jumped, nearly falling on his butt before he regained his 
balance and stood. An elderly woman with snow-white hair stood 
on the patio of the house to the left of Kira's. She shaded her eyes 
against the sun, scowling at him.

Mulder walked toward her, pulling his ID from his pocket. "I'm 
FBI--Agent Fox Mulder."

To his surprise, the woman's blue eyes brightened and a smile 
replaced the scowl. "So you're Claire's Uncle Fox! My name is 
Cordelia Logan, but everyone just calls me Corrie. I've heard an 
earful about you."

He knew there was a stunned expression on his face, but couldn't 
seem to remove it. "You have?"

"Goodness, yes. Uncle Fox the FBI agent. Uncle Fox who lives in 
Washington, D.C. Uncle Fox who taught her to hit a baseball." She 
chuckled softly. "She's such a little thing, at first I thought she 
must've gotten your name wrong. Imagine my surprise when Kira 
told me she was right."

Mulder tucked the ID back into his pocket. "You know Claire is 
missing."

All the merriment left the old woman's face. "Yes. I saw the 
commotion yesterday morning and came over to see if Kira was all 
right. The police questioned me, of course, but I'm afraid I wasn't 
much help." 

"Would you mind if I asked you a couple questions?"

"Agent Mulder, my husband and I were never blessed with 
children. That little girl is the closest thing to a granddaughter I'll 
ever have. I'd do anything to help find her."

"The night before last, the night Claire disappeared, did you see or 
hear anything unusual?"

Corrie's face crinkled with regret. "I wish I had. It was a very quiet, 
very normal night. When the power kept flickering, Sam--that's my 
husband--and I turned off the television and took the dog for a 
walk. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful."

"What time was that?"

"Oh, I don't know. About nine-thirty, ten o'clock?"

"And there were no strange cars, nobody you passed that you didn't 
recognize?"

She shook her head. "We didn't see a single soul. Everyone was 
inside, I guess. A real shame too, since it was a beautiful evening. 
We stood out front for almost half an hour watching the meteor 
shower."

Mulder's breath caught. "Meteor shower?"

She waved a wrinkled hand. "Well, that's what I'd call it. I'm 
certainly no expert on such things."

"What did it look like?"

"Just a lot of bright lights in the sky, darting and swooping. At first 
we thought they were planes, but then Sam decided they must be 
meteors, falling to earth. It was fascinating." She sighed. "But I've 
gotten off on a tangent, haven't it? Meteor showers aren't going to 
help you find little Claire."

"No, you've been very helpful. Thank you for your time." Mulder 
pushed the words past numb lips.

Corrie patted his arm. "I'm sure I haven't, but you're sweet to say 
so. You tell Kira she and Claire are in my prayers, will you?"

"I... Yes, I'll tell her."

Mulder stumbled back to Kira's house on wooden legs. He sat 
down on the cement steps, pulling his trenchcoat more tightly to 
his shivering body. But the chills that tingled up and down his 
spine had little to do with the chill March air.

"Not again." He dropped his face into his hands as tears burned his 
cheeks. "My God, I can't do this again."


Continued in Chapter 5


Blood Ties 11: Revolution (5/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com 


133 Waterbrook Lane
Wednesday
11:21 AM


Scully eased the car to the curb and killed the engine. She pulled 
the keys from the ignition but made no move to exit the vehicle, 
dropping her head onto the seatback with a weary sigh. A young 
mother pushed a stroller along the sidewalk, its tiny occupant 
bundled so thoroughly only two eyes and a pair of rosy cheeks 
protruded from the blanket. Across the street, an older woman 
tramped from car to house and back again, hauling plastic bags of 
groceries. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked incessantly. 

Less than thirty-six hours ago, a little girl had disappeared from her 
bed without a trace, yet peaceful suburbia hummed along with 
barely a hiccup. Bitter irony considering the devastation wrought 
in the lives of those who loved her.

Grey had been civil but distant during the car ride back to the 
precinct. Scully hadn't pressed, though her stomach churned with 
empathy and regret. At the station they'd gone their separate ways-
-Scully to follow up with the forensics team and Grey to check on 
the search for Talbot. She hadn't seen him since.

Kira haunted the hallways like a hollow-eyed waif, consuming 
cups of bad coffee and waiting for some scrap of news on her 
daughter. She'd politely rebuffed Scully's offer to bring her a 
sandwich from the cafeteria, though Scully was certain she'd eaten 
little or nothing over the past twenty-four hours.

And Mulder. Scully closed her eyes but could not shut out the 
memory of the almost physical pain Grey's scorn had caused. 
Cases that involved missing children could not help but resonate 
within Mulder. In such a state of heightened vulnerability, Grey's 
bitter invective had drawn blood as effectively as fists.

A sharp shake of her head, and Scully got out of the car. She 
glanced up and down the street, then, seeing no sign of Mulder, 
walked around to the rear of the house. He sat perched on the 
cement stoop outside the back door like a lanky black bird, legs 
folded to his chest and open coat flapping in the breeze. She 
crossed the narrow strip of grass to stand beside him.

Mulder cocked his head, squinting a little in the glare from the sun. 
Despite the lines of weariness and grief around his eyes, his mouth 
curved into the gentle smile that never failed to make her heart 
ache with emotion. "Hey, Scully."

She smiled back, reaching down to sift her fingers through dark, 
windblown hair. "Hey yourself. Any luck with the neighbors?"

He scooted over, patting the now vacant corner. "Most were 
spectacularly unhelpful."

"Most?" She sat, leaning into his warmth.

Mulder tipped his chin toward the house next door. "Corrie and 
Sam Logan, Claire's surrogate grandparents. According to Corrie 
they didn't see anything unusual the other night. Except for the 
lights in the sky."

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but he headed her off with an 
upraised hand. "I know what you're going to say, Scully, but this 
isn't some crank. If I hadn't questioned her I don't think she would 
have given what she saw a second thought. She and her husband 
dismissed it as a meteor shower."

"Maybe it was."

He gave her a long look, then jerked his thumb toward something 
covered by a large piece of canvas near the back of the yard. "Take 
a peek in the sandbox and then we'll talk."

A moment passed before she realized he was serious. Scully stood, 
feeling his eyes on her back as she walked across the grass and 
peeled back the tarp. Scorch marks, melted plastic, hunks of 
glass. It didn't take a genius IQ to see what Mulder had--just a 
few years on the X-Files.

He loomed at her back, hands stuffed into coat pockets. "We've 
been here before, Scully."

Short, clipped, the words held both self-assurance and stubborn 
determination. Good. He was going to need both in order to 
convince his brother. 

Scully turned and met his probing gaze. "You're right."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Dear Diary."

"I'm not saying Claire was abducted by aliens. I'm saying there's 
sufficient evidence to warrant further investigation." She hesitated. 
"Mulder. There's another possible explanation. One we've also 
seen before."

His lips tightened to a thin line. "I'd thought of that. But why 
Claire? She doesn't have a drop of Mulder blood; there's no reason 
they should be interested in her. It's far too coincidental that she 
would be a random test subject."

"And your theory isn't? Less than one percent of the population 
claims to have been abducted by aliens. What are the odds that 
your brother's niece should be one of them?"

He propped hands on hips, frustration and weariness sharpening 
his voice. "I thought you agreed that the evidence."

"I do. But bright lights and melted toys are only half the equation. 
You said it yourself--why Claire? Motive is as important as 
method, Mulder. Grey is not going to take you seriously until you 
can answer your own question." 

He glared at her a moment longer before nodding. "You're right."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Dear Diary."

 It earned her a delighted chuckle--the first, she realized sadly, 
since they'd gotten the call from Grey. Scully grinned back, 
basking in the moment. 

"So where do we go from here?" she asked as they began walking 
back to the car.

"I think I'll give the Gunmen a call. Have them check UFO activity 
over the last week or so."

"You think this might have happened elsewhere?"

Mulder shrugged, crossing to the driver's side of the car. "I need to 
find some kind of pattern, Scully, if I'm to understand why Claire 
and not the kid down the street." His eyes hardened and he bent 
over to unlock the door. "And to have any chance of convincing 
Grey."

"Mulder."

"Save it, Scully. I don't need you to make excuses for him."

"I wasn't going to."

He paused, key halfway to the lock, momentarily nonplussed. 
"Well.I don't need you to make me feel better, either."

"Never crossed my mind."

Mulder straightened up, irritation creasing his brow. "Then what 
were you going to say?"

Scully strode over and nudged him out of the way, pulling out her 
own set of keys. "I'm driving." She unlocked the door and slid 
behind the wheel, her expression daring him to protest. "After all, 
the seat's already adjusted so my little feet can reach the pedals."

Mulder slouched around to the passenger side. "You're never going 
to let me forget that, are you?"

Scully just started the engine, her smile distinctly enigmatic.


Raleigh Police Station
12:33 PM

 
Something had changed. Mulder and Scully could feel the 
undercurrent of restrained excitement the moment they entered the 
building. Grey stood behind his desk, phone tucked between ear 
and shoulder as he wrote on a yellow legal pad.

".That's right. Take the car straight to impound; forensics can go 
over it for trace evidence." He motioned them over, still scribbling 
frantically. "What did you expect, a spontaneous confession? Just 
get him in here; we can hold him for up to 48 hours if we have to."

"You've located Talbot?" Mulder's voice was scrupulously neutral.

"Our APB paid off. A state trooper spotted him about fifty miles 
south of here, on Interstate 95. They're on their way in now, should 
be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Is Claire with him?" Scully asked.

A wisp of doubt dimmed the satisfaction shining in Grey's eyes, 
but he shrugged it off. "No. But he could have her stashed 
somewhere--a motel, a friend's place. Once he sees we're onto him, 
I'm hoping he'll come clean about everything, including where to 
find Claire."

"Which direction was he headed?"

Grey turned to his brother with a frown. "What?"

"Talbot. Which direction was he headed when the cop stopped 
him, north or south?"

Grey glanced at his notes. "North." When his brother didn't reply 
other than to flash Scully a significant look, he folded his arms. 
"What?"

Mulder's face was expressionless but a hint of impatience crept 
into his voice. "Don't give me that. You know what."

"So he was heading toward the city. He still didn't show up for 
work the past two days, and he's still the most likely suspect."

"Grey."

"This is the first break we've had, Fox. If things go well, this 
nightmare might be over in a matter of hours. Allow me a little 
optimism, all right?"

"Grey?" Kira wound her way through bodies and desks until she 
stood beside Scully. "Is it true? Did they find Steve?"

"He's on his way in right now. No sign of Claire--yet."

"I want to be there when you talk to him."

"Kira." Grey looked at Mulder.

"Kira, it's not a good idea." Mulder reached around Scully to lay a 
hand on Kira's shoulder. "Aside from the fact that it could 
influence Steve's response to questioning, it's completely against 
police procedure."

A line appeared between Kira's brows. "Unless I'm mistaken, Grey 
working a case that involves family isn't exactly going by the book 
either. Claire is my child; I have the right to hear what Steve has to 
say."

"Does your interrogation room have an observation area?" Scully 
asked Grey. 

He nodded, relief softening his features. "Yeah. I guess that would 
be all right." He turned to Kira. "You'll be able to listen in without 
him knowing you're there. Okay?"

A slight hesitation before she returned his nod. "Okay."

Grey glanced around, then beckoned to a nearby uniformed officer. 
"Covelli, would you please show my sister to observation for 
interrogation B?"

When Kira had been escorted away, an awkward silence fell 
between the three. Scully watched Grey fiddle with his pencil and 
Mulder shuffle his feet, biting back the urge to knock their heads 
together. When Grey finally spoke, it was with eyes still trained on 
the pad of paper.

"So. Find anything else at Kira's?"

Mulder caught the slight jerk of Scully's head from the corner of 
his eye. He gritted his teeth but kept his tone mild. "Nothing I care 
to share at the moment."

Grey looked up sharply. "I'm not sure if I should be disappointed 
or relieved."

Mulder bared his teeth in a grin. "Like you said, this may all be 
over in the next few hours."

"But you don't think so."

"I think."

Grey's phone trilled and he scooped it up. "McKenzie.Put him in 
B; we'll be right there." He dropped the receiver back onto its 
cradle, scooped up a folder, and stood, tugging his jacket from the 
back of his chair. "Let's go."

Talbot was seated at a small wooden table, hands cuffed in front of 
him, when they entered the room. Scully wasn't sure what she 
expected, but it certainly wasn't the harmless-looking man with 
weary eyes and a slight build. He looked up, eyes widening, then 
narrowing at the sight of Grey.

"I should've figured you were behind this. At least maybe now I'll 
get some answers."

"These are Special Agents Scully and Mulder from the FBI," Grey 
said as he and Scully took seats at the table. Mulder wandered to 
lean against the wall at a point just beyond Talbot's left shoulder. 
Talbot's gaze flicked quickly over him before returning to Grey.

Grey set down the file folder in his hand and pressed both palms 
against the scratched and pitted tabletop. "Claire is missing."

Talbot stared at him, blank expression quickly transforming to 
angry confusion. "Missing? What the hell is that supposed to 
mean?"

"She wasn't in her bed when Kira went to wake her up yesterday 
morning. We've searched the area, checked in with all her friends. 
No one has seen her since Monday night."

"That doesn't make any. Why would she run off like that? And 
how could an eight-year-old kid just disappear?"

Grey's face remained impassive but his hands curled slowly into 
fists. "Maybe because she didn't 'run off.' We don't believe Claire 
left of her own free will."

"Oh my God." Talbot leaned forward, burying his face in his 
hands. "Do you know who might've." He dropped his hands, 
glaring at Grey. "Is that why--you can't possibly think I would."

"Where were you Monday night, Steve?"

"You've got to be kidding." When Grey didn't respond, Talbot 
turned to Scully. "Look, I don't know what he's told you, but I'm 
no kidnapper."

"I know exactly what you are, Mr. Talbot." Scully's voice was cool 
as she drew the folder from Grey and opened it. "Your record 
speaks for itself." 

"That was five years ago. A lot has changed since then. *I've* 
changed."

Something in his tone, hidden beneath the sullen growl, made 
Scully steal a quick look at Mulder, who responded with a barely 
perceptible nod.

"You want custody of Claire," Grey said.

"Joint custody. Just because a man wants the chance to see his own 
daughter doesn't make him a kidnapper, for God's sake! I'd never 
do that to Kira."

Grey's lip curled. "'Course not. You're just a big ol' teddy bear, 
aren't you? You'd never hurt her."

"We've strayed from the question." Scully looked pointedly at 
Grey before returning her attention to Talbot. "There's an easy way 
to put these accusations to rest, Mr. Talbot. Just tell us where you 
were on the night Claire disappeared."

Talbot pressed his lips tightly together before answering. "I 
was.out of town."

"Where?" Grey asked. "And for what purpose?"

A sharp shake of his head before he looked coolly into Grey's 
angry face. "I can't say. It's a personal matter."

"Personal?" Grey's response was low, dangerous. "Like taking 
your daughter from her bed and driving her to wherever you're 
holding her right now?"

Face twisted in rage, Talbot shoved back his chair and stood. In a 
flash Grey was on his feet, hand on the butt of his weapon. "Sit 
down, Steve."

Talbot hesitated, breath puffing in short, hard pants. He dropped 
back into his chair, spine rigid. "I told you I didn't do it. Hell, I was 
400 miles from here. You're wasting your time with me when you 
could be out looking for the real kidnapper." He scrubbed at his 
face with both hands and barked out a semi-hysterical chuckle. 
"But that wouldn't be nearly as much fun, would it?"

Scully tensed as Grey stepped closer to Talbot, looming over him. 
"What are you trying to say?"

"This is your big chance, isn't it? A way to get back at me for all 
the grief I caused your sister? You had me tried and convicted 
before you walked in this room."

"Maybe I just know what you're capable of, you little."

"Grey."

Scully's hand on his arm pulled Grey back. Barely. He 
straightened, running the fingers of one hand through his hair, then 
stalked over to the door and shoved it open.

"Covelli!"

The uniformed cop who'd escorted Kira to the observation area 
appeared almost instantly, looking ready to bow or salute--Scully 
wasn't sure which. She chewed the inside of her cheek to hide her 
amusement. Evidently Grey's current run of bad temper had 
everyone walking on eggshells.

"Process him and put him in a holding cell." Grey ignored Talbot's 
angry hiss.

"You can't do this. Last time I checked, you need evidence to 
charge someone with a crime." Talbot spat the words at Grey as 
Covelli grasped one arm.

"I can hold you up to 48 hours without charging you with a damn 
thing. With any luck, by then I'll have the evidence I need."

Talbot's reply, as Covelli ushered him from the room, was crude 
but creative. Grey watched him go, then turned on his brother.

"What was with you? You're the great profiler; I expected you to 
say something."

Mulder pushed himself off the wall he'd been holding up, 
shrugging. "You and Scully had things under control. I can usually 
tell more about a person by observing."

Grey folded his arms. "So?"

"I think he's telling the truth. I don't believe he had anything to do 
with Claire's disappearance."

Obviously not the answer Grey wanted. "Were we just in the same 
room? The guy refuses to account for his whereabouts Monday 
night. Why--unless he has something to hide?"

Mulder shook his head. "I didn't say he's not concealing something. 
I just don't think it has anything to do with Claire."

"Really? Have you got anything to back up that opinion? Or am I 
just supposed to take it as face value because it comes from 
Spooky Mulder?"

Mulder's eyes went dark and flat. Scully started to speak, desperate 
to say anything that might deflect the anger, but he cut her off. "I 
watched him, Grey--did you? I saw his face when you told him 
Claire was missing, and I'm telling you, he didn't know. I 
guarantee when you get the forensics on his car there'll be no 
physical evidence, just as there was none at the house."

"You wrote him off from the beginning." Grey uttered the words 
softly and nearly without inflection, a sure sign he was furious. 
"You'd rather believe Claire was taken by ET than accept the truth. 
I know that son of a bitch, Fox. You ask if I've watched him? 
Damn straight I have--watched him bully and abuse my sister for 
years. He has Claire somewhere, and I'm going to get it out of him, 
with or without your help."

Mulder stared at his brother, face pale. "Talbot was right, wasn't 
he? This isn't about Claire, it's about Kira and what happened five 
years ago. You *want* him to be guilty, don't you? Damn it, Grey, 
can't you see you've crossed the line?"

For a moment Scully thought it would be all right. Grey's face 
crumbled and he dropped his head, breathing ragged. But when 
Mulder reached out to lay a hand on his brother's arm, it was 
shrugged off and Grey's shoulders stiffened.

"I need to follow up with forensics on the car and search his 
personal affects. Maybe there'll be something to tell us where he's 
been." He stalked out of the room without meeting their eyes.


Continued in Chapter 6

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (6/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh Police Station
2:37 PM


"Mulder."

"Hm?" He looked up into exasperated blue eyes, abruptly aware he 
hadn't spoken for at least five minutes.

She pointed to his plate with her soupspoon. "That's already dead. 
No need to torture it."

Mulder glanced down at the shredded remains of his roast beef on 
rye. He shoved the plate aside and propped his elbows on the table. 
"Sorry, Scully. The bread was kind of dry."

"I warned you to stick to the soup." Her expression softened. 
"Want some of mine?"

"Thanks, but I'm not very hungry." Face pensive, he watched 
several uniformed cops make their way through the cafeteria line.

Scully slid her hand, palm up, across the tabletop. "Then how 
about sharing whatever's going on in that head of yours? You've 
been a million miles away ever since we sat down. We're in this 
together--remember?"

Mulder's lips curved, smoothing some of the lines of tension 
around his eyes and mouth. He slipped his hand into hers with a 
gentle squeeze. "I'm not holding out on you, Scully. I'm just trying 
to process the last few hours."

"You still think Talbot is innocent?"

He chuffed softly. "The last word I'd use to describe Talbot is 
innocent. But I don't think he had anything to do with Claire's 
disappearance. Do you?"

She considered the question a moment before shaking her head. 
"No. As you said, his surprise felt too real to be faked. But Grey 
has a point. If he's not guilty, why won't he reveal where he's been 
the past few days?"

"That's one of the things I've been thinking about. I believe I may 
have the why, if not the where."

"I'm listening."

"Talbot appears genuinely concerned about finding Claire. Yet not 
cooperating with us is counterproductive to achieving that. After 
all, as long as he remains the number one suspect, the police are 
going to concentrate their efforts on him."

"And not on finding the real perpetrator," Scully added.

"Exactly."

"So why isn't he talking?"

"Maybe whatever took him out of town could jeopardize his 
petition for joint custody of Claire."

Scully frowned. "Such as?"

Mulder worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Unpaid debts? 
Drugs? Could be any of a number of factors that would cast doubt 
on his competence as a parent. His past record of abuse already 
works against him. Anything more could be the final straw that 
keeps him from his daughter forever."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We need Talbot to come clean. Grey's not going to move on until 
he does." Mulder made a face. "He's being an arrogant, pig-headed 
bastard about this whole case. He's so convinced he's right he won't 
listen to reason."

Scully looked at him, deadpan.

"What?"

"Do you have any idea how many locals have used those words to 
describe you? If I had a dime..."

"Ha, ha."

The amusement faded from Scully's eyes and she extricated her 
hand from Mulder's. "Kira," she said, smiling at a spot just over his 
right shoulder.

Mulder stood, offering Kira a chair and then reseating himself. 
Scully observed the woman with concern.

"Kira, can we get you something to eat? Some soup?"

"Thank you, but I just... I can't. That's not why I'm here." Kira's 
gaze darted between their faces, her dark eyes huge in her pale, 
pinched face.

"You came to talk about Steve." Mulder's voice was gentle but 
sure.

"Yes." Kira picked up a paper napkin and began twisting it in 
restless hands. "I've just come from the cell where they're holding 
him." She looked into Mulder's eyes. "He didn't do it, Fox. He 
didn't take Claire. You've got to talk to Grey; he won't listen to 
me."

Mulder glanced helplessly at Scully before turning back to the 
distraught woman. "Kira, he's not listening to me either."

"Steve talked to you?" Scully asked. Kira nodded. "Did you ask 
him where he's been?"

"I tried, but he wouldn't tell me. He said he's innocent, and Grey 
will realize that, sooner or later."

"It's the later I'm worried about," Mulder muttered.

"Grey's always been overprotective of me." Kira began tearing the 
napkin into bits, jaw clenched. "He acts as if I'm some kind of 
fragile flower. He doesn't treat Shannon that way."

"Shannon wasn't abused by her husband." Scully's tone was blunt 
but kind. "It's understandable that he doesn't trust Steve, 
considering all he put you through."

Kira's shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. I lived it, after all. But 
since Steve's come back... Something's changed, Dana. He's 
different somehow--calmer. Focused. I'm not saying he doesn't still 
have a temper," she added quickly. "But for the first time since I 
met him, I can see him really trying to control it. I believe him 
when he says he's sorry for the past and that he wants to build a 
relationship with Claire."

Mulder leaned forward in his chair. "Kira, why now? He let five 
years pass without so much as a birthday card to his daughter. 
What changed his mind?"

Kira shrugged, one corner of her mouth quirking. "He said he 
realized life's too short to waste time. And that the people we love 
are all that really matter."

Mulder was silent, tugging on his lower lip, then shoved back his 
chair and stood. "I have a phone call to make. I'll catch up with you 
both later. Scully, make her eat something."

He was gone before either of them could open their mouths. Kira 
looked at Scully, eyebrows raised. "Is he always like that?"

"He has his moments."

"And I thought keeping up with Claire was exhausting."

Scully grinned. "Let me buy you a bowl of soup and we'll swap 
war stories."

Kira hesitated briefly before breaking into a reluctant smile. 
"Sounds too good to pass up."


Interrogation Room B
4:02 PM


"What's going on?" Grey stalked into the room, eyes narrowing at 
the sight of Mulder, Scully, and Kira already seated around the 
table.

"Sit down, Grey." Mulder nudged the empty chair beside him with 
his foot.

Grey ran a hand through disheveled hair, one corner of his mouth 
turned up in exasperation. "Not that I don't want you to make 
yourself at home, Fox, but don't you think summoning me to my 
own interrogation room is taking things a bit far?"

"Scully vetoed the engraved invitations." Mulder waited until Grey 
had taken a seat before continuing. "Covelli's getting Steve. They 
should be here any minute."

Grey's amusement sharpened to wariness. "I'll ask you one more 
time. What's going on?"

Mulder glanced at Scully, then back at his brother. "I know where 
Talbot was the night Claire disappeared. I think I can persuade him 
to talk."

"Why is Kira here?"

"I invited her."

Grey spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't want her anywhere 
near him, Fox."

"She deserves to hear this, Grey. It concerns her as much as any of 
us. More."

"Look, you don't seem to get the fact that she..."

"Excuse me, but 'she' is sitting across from you. Would you mind 
not discussing me as if I'm either hearing impaired or brain dead?" 
Kira leaned across the table, eyes giving a whole new meaning to 
the phrase "if looks could kill." "Grey, I love you for wanting to 
protect me, but back the hell off. I'm not going anywhere."

Grey slouched into his chair and folded his arms. "Fine. I'm not 
getting into a pissing contest with you over this. But I just want it 
on the record that I think it's a bad idea."

Kira rolled her eyes. "As if we had any doubts."

Covelli appeared in the doorway, Talbot in tow. He flushed a bit at 
the sight of Grey's thunderous face. "Uh...Agent Mulder asked 
that..."

"I've heard. Just sit him down over there, Covelli. I'll see he gets 
back where he belongs when we're finished."

Talbot lowered himself into the designated chair, gaze darting from 
face to face before dropping to where his cuffed hands rested on 
the tabletop. "Haven't we done this dance already? I don't have 
anything more to say."

"I think you do," Mulder said. "I think you've got a story to tell, 
Steve. And I think we're the perfect audience for it."

Steve's head jerked up and his mouth twisted into a sneer. "So, you 
can talk after all. Tired of playing the strong, silent type?" When 
Mulder just looked at him, he shook his head. "You're wasting 
your time. Unless you've dug up some kind of evidence to prove I 
took Claire--and we both know you haven't--you're going to have 
to let me go, sooner or later. May as well make it sooner. Got it?"

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw, unobtrusively nudging Grey's leg 
with his own. Even through the brief touch he could feel his 
brother's fury; Grey was like a tightly coiled spring.

"It's not our time that's being wasted, Steve. It's Claire's. See, the 
longer you dick around with us, the longer you remain a suspect. 
And that just distracts us from finding out what really happened to 
your daughter." He showed his teeth in a cold smile. "Got it?"

Steve glared at him, lips pressed into a thin, white line and fingers 
clenching spasmodically into fists. Mulder tipped backward, chair 
balanced precariously on two legs.

"How's your health these days, Steve?"

Talbot froze, smug self-assurance draining from his face along 
with most of the color. He started to look at Kira before catching 
himself. "I don't know what you mean."

"Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. How have you been 
feeling?"

A slight twitch of his shoulder. "Fine."

"Really?" Mulder adopted a faintly puzzled expression. "You sure 
about that?"

"Yes." The response was delivered in a voice that could cut glass.

Mulder let the chair drop back onto four legs with a thud. He 
locked eyes with Talbot, ignoring the questioning looks from Grey, 
Kira, and Scully. "Then maybe you can explain why you spent the 
weekend in an Atlanta hospital." He reached into his coat pocket 
and pulled out two amber prescription bottles, setting them on the 
table in front of Talbot. "And why these were in the medicine chest 
at your apartment."

Scully reached for the bottles but Talbot's hand was there first, 
snatching them up in a clenched fist. "No!" He looked at Mulder, 
anger and sorrow mingled together until they were 
indistinguishable. "Why couldn't you have left this alone, left me 
alone? I needed..."

"Because it's time you got over yourself, Talbot, once and for all. 
This isn't about what you need; it's about what Claire needs. 
Finding her, bringing her home, is what matters."

Steve searched his face for a long moment, evidently finding what 
he needed. He handed the pill bottles to Scully, then dropped his 
face into his hands. Scully scanned the labels before turning to 
Mulder.

"Tegretol? Zarontin?"

Kira caught her breath. "Zarontin? That's an anticonvulsant. 
Steve...?"

"I didn't want you to know." Talbot's voice was muffled. "I was 
afraid if you knew, if the judge knew, you wouldn't trust me with 
Claire."

Kira reached out to peel his hands from his face. "Knew what?"

"I have cancer, Kira. A tumor in the right parietal lobe of my brain. 
It's inoperable." He laughed--a bitter, lonely sound--and looked at 
Grey. "I remember you telling me that one day I'd get what I 
deserved. Guess you were right."

Grey looked away, too stunned to answer. Kira pressed trembling 
fingers to her lips, blinking hard.

"Are you saying you...you're dying?"

Talbot shrugged. "Doc gave me six months two months ago. He's 
got me on some new, experimental treatment, but it's too soon to 
tell if it's helping." He chuckled, desperately trying to appear 
unaffected by her tears. "Makes me sick as a dog, though. That's 
why I have to check into the hospital. If the tumor doesn't kill me, 
the drugs will."

"Don't," Kira said sharply. "Please, don't."

Talbot tentatively slid his hands across the table to cover hers. 
Grey stiffened, but didn't protest.

"When I got the news, after the shock wore off, I started 
wondering what to do with the time I have left.  I tried on a lot of 
different ideas, but no matter where I started, I always seemed to 
wind up in the same place. Claire." He blew out a long, slow 
breath. "My life has been a series of screw-ups, Kira, one right 
after another. But that little girl...she's the only thing I've ever done 
right. I couldn't die without fixing things between us. Without 
letting her know her father loves her, even if he is a loser."

Kira turned her hand and linked it with his. "You should have told 
me the truth, Steve. Did you really think I'd keep her from you?"

His smile was wry. "I haven't exactly given you a reason to trust 
me. I was hoping if I could get my act together, show you I was 
trying to change..."

Mulder stood and motioned Grey and Scully to the door of the 
room. "How about we give them a few minutes?" he said, sotto 
voce.

Grey nodded. He stared at his brother, still bewildered and a little 
shell-shocked. "You're certain that he was in the hospital the night 
Claire was taken? You have witnesses?"

"The doctor wouldn't discuss the details of his treatment with me, 
but yes, he confirmed that Talbot spent three nights there. Too sick 
to be a threat to anyone, from what I can gather. With the 
occasional seizures he's experienced, he's not even supposed to be 
driving a car."

"What gave you the idea to check hospital records?" Scully asked.

"Something Kira mentioned. She said Steve told her life was too 
short to waste. It started me wondering why a guy like Talbot 
would be contemplating his mortality."

"It was a damn good piece of investigative work, Fox." Grey shook 
his head. "You were right. You had reservations about Talbot from 
the beginning, but I was too blinded by my own prejudices to 
listen."

Something loosened in Mulder's chest. "I never said I didn't 
understand why you felt the way you did." He glanced through the 
open door at Kira and Talbot, heads close together in deep 
conversation. "He's not exactly the kind of husband anyone would 
want for their sister."

Grey tucked chin to chest, massaging the back of his neck. "Worst 
part is now we're back to square one. And to be honest, I'm not 
sure where to go from here."

Mulder stole a quick glance at Scully. "I do."

Grey's head snapped up and the atmosphere abruptly chilled thirty 
degrees. "Don't start."

"Grey..."

"It's ridiculous, Fox, and I don't want to hear another word about it! 
Can you imagine what the cops around here would think if I started 
spouting your alien abduction theory?"

Mulder stepped forward, into his brother's face. "What's the 
matter? Afraid they'll start thinking you're as crazy as Spooky? 
Insanity is hereditary, after all."

Scully placed a restraining hand on her husband's arm. "Grey, you 
called us in on this case for our expertise. You can't just ignore..."

"I called you in to help me find a kidnapper, to profile. If you two 
want to chase aliens then you damn well better do it on your own 
time. Leave my family the hell out of it!" Grey punctuated his 
words by stabbing a finger at Mulder's chest. Heads turned at the 
sound of their raised voices.

"This isn't about Scully and me, it's about you," Mulder snarled. 
"You're so worried about what people will think, you'd rather close 
your eyes to the truth than risk looking foolish. It's a pity Claire 
isn't as important to you as your damn reputation."

The blow caught Mulder under the jaw, nearly lifting him off his 
feet. He was sprawled on the tile before he knew what had hit him, 
Scully's angry cry ringing in his ears. 

Grey stood over his brother, rubbing his knuckles. "And it's a pity 
you see Samantha every time a little girl disappears." He turned to 
walk back to his desk, but paused. "Go home, Fox. I can handle 
this on my own."


Continued in Chapter 7

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (7/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
7:17 PM


"You're both acting like stubborn children." Scully leaned in the 
bathroom doorway, arms laced across her chest, as Mulder tossed 
toiletries into his shaving kit.

He paused, razor in hand, to glare at her. "What do you want me to 
do, Scully? Apologize to my brother for knocking me on my ass?" 
He tucked the razor into the case and reached for the shaving 
cream.

"No." She sighed, struggling to keep frustration in check. "I'm not 
saying Grey wasn't way out of line when he hit you. And I'm not 
denying that he's been rude and overbearing when it comes to this 
case." She reached over and plucked the pouch from his fingers, 
forcing him to meet her eyes. "Mulder, he hasn't slept in over 36 
hours. He's worried about Kira and terrified for Claire. You and I 
both know he's got no business running this investigation."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Scully set the kit aside and moved behind him, slipping her arms 
around his waist and leaning her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm 
telling you to cut him some slack. To realize he's not himself, and 
that maybe right now *you* have to be the big brother. Swallow your 
pride and your anger and go make things right with him."

Mulder stared at their reflection in the mirror, fingers tracing the 
darkening bruise along his jaw before covering her hands with his 
own. "Scully, I can't."

"Mulder..."

"No, listen. This is about something far more basic than anger and 
pride. This is about respect, Scully. Respect not just for what I do, 
but for who I am."

"Grey respects you, Mulder, he..."

"He doesn't! He accepts me. Loves me in spite of...me. Fox, the 
brilliant but damaged brother. He's a terrific agent--writes a mean 
profile. Just look the other way if he starts seeing aliens, though. 
Poor guy had a traumatic childhood."

Scully dropped her arms, a chunk of ice in the pit of her stomach. 
"That's not true."

Mulder turned to face her, calm--or perhaps just resigned. "I might 
never have realized, if not for this case." He shook his head, 
looking bemused. "You said it yourself, Scully. What are the odds 
that someone so close to me would be abducted by aliens? There's 
a cruel irony in there somewhere."

His placid surrender infuriated her. "So...what? You're just going 
to chuck the whole relationship? Write Grey off as a lost cause and 
go home? He's your *brother*, Mulder. The only blood relative you 
have left. Isn't he worth more to you than that?"

"No, I'm not going home, I'm going to a hotel. I owe it to Kira and 
Claire to see this case through to the end." Mulder picked up the 
shaving kit, zipped it shut, and shouldered past her. She followed 
him down the hall to the guest bedroom, where he tossed it into his 
open suitcase.

"And Grey?" she asked quietly.

"Despite what you might think, I'm not really angry with him. But 
I...I can't..." His voice turned wispy and broke. She watched the 
clench and release of jaw muscles, the flutter of eyelashes. "I don't 
care if I'm 'Spooky' around the Bureau, Scully, or even with the 
local boys. I don't give a damn what they think. But Grey... It 
matters."

She wanted to argue, torn between hugging him and shaking him, 
but the trill of his cell phone intervened.

"Mulder...Whatcha got, Byers?" He listened a moment, gaze 
roaming the room until it landed on her laptop case. "Hang on." 
Phone cradled between ear and shoulder, he pulled a notepad and 
pen from the side pocket and sat down on the bed. "Go 
ahead....No, all of them...Really?"

Scully's ears perked up at the excitement in his voice. "What is it?"

He waved a hand at her and began scribbling furiously on the pad. 
"Dates and locations. Names, too, if you have them."

Scully tired of listening after a few minutes. Deliberately ignoring 
her open suitcase, she headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. 
She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and wandered 
into the living room. A shelf containing framed photos caught her 
eye, and she moved closer to get a better look.

Grey and Kate's wedding photo, he looking impossibly young and 
eager in a black tux; she radiantly beautiful in an ivory satin gown. 
Grey and Kristen in hiking boots and backpacks, posed against a 
wooded backdrop of brilliant fall colors. The last she recognized. 
Taken by Grey's mom, it was a photo of the three of them--Scully, 
Mulder, and Grey--during a family picnic the previous summer. 
Fresh from a game of softball, they all were flushed, sweaty, and 
slightly disheveled. 

She lifted the photo from the shelf, the dull ache in her chest 
expanding. With Scully tucked under one arm, the other thrown 
over Grey's shoulders, Mulder's face reflected happiness and 
contentment. An expression she'd seen more and more over the 
past two years. She let her eyes drift shut. How had things soured 
so quickly?

The front door rattled and swung open, emitting a gust of chill air 
and Grey. His eyes met hers only briefly before he ducked his head 
and turned to shut the door. Scully replaced the photo and walked 
over to where he was busily hanging up his coat. Evidently the task 
took great concentration, since he focused his whole attention on it. 

"Grey."

"Mark kicked me out--can you believe it? Told me not to come 
back until I'd gotten at least five hours of sleep." His gaze skittered 
over her face to the bottle in her hands. "Think I'll grab one of 
those; I'm parched."

Scully stopped his forward momentum with a firmly placed hand 
to the shoulder. "Grey. We need to talk."

Grey folded his arms across his chest. "What do you want from 
me, Dana?"

*God, give me strength. One is irritating. Two just might push me 
over the edge.*

She gave him a look usually reserved for her husband. "You're as 
bad as Mulder. You can't ignore the elephant in the middle of the 
room and just go about your business."

"I'm prepared to give it the old college try." When she didn't 
respond, he blew out a long, weary breath and pinched the bridge 
of his nose. "I never... I didn't mean to hit him."

Scully handed him her still unopened bottle. "It's not that bad. His 
jaw's a little bruised, but the swelling is minimal."

"Still." Grey twisted off the cap and took a long draught, swiping 
the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. "I know Bill 
knocked Fox around a few times. For me to resort to my fists..."

She shook her head. "What you just said--insinuating he's some 
kind of victim? That's exactly what he's afraid you'll think of him."

Grey's remorse took on a defensive edge. "I just meant I was sorry, 
that I realize..."

"It was one punch, Grey. I must have seen my brothers exchange 
as bad or worse at least a dozen times. Mulder's jaw will be healed 
in a week. The hits to his spirit--that's another matter altogether."

"You've lost me, Dana."

Scully glanced up the staircase, then drew Grey into the living 
room. "Do you know when they started calling Mulder 'Spooky'?"

Grey stared at her blankly for a moment before obviously deciding 
to go with the flow. "I always assumed it was when he relocated to 
the basement and started investigating aliens."

"Understandable, but incorrect. People were calling him 'Spooky 
Mulder' years before he picked up his first X-File. I'm not sure 
anyone remembers who coined the nickname, but it originated 
when he began profiling." Scully shook her head. "There he was, 
fresh out of the Academy, looking barely old enough to shave, yet 
in six months he'd turned the BSU upside down. Not only did his 
solve rate surpass that of older, more seasoned agents, he'd 
managed to write the monograph that led to the capture of Monty 
Props, a serial killer who had eluded police for nearly two years. It 
was downright spooky."

Grey looked thoughtful. "So that's how it started. I never realized."

"My point is, while it was never exactly flattering, initially it 
communicated a kind of respect--even awe. He intimidated the hell 
out of people, but no one doubted that he was the Bureau's rising 
star."

"Until he started to crash and burn," Grey said quietly.

"Mulder took on the X-Files for two reasons, Grey, the least 
significant of which was his mental health. He glimpsed in them a 
path to the truth--truth about his missing sister and about a 
conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life. And he 
dedicated his life to following that path. Nothing was more 
important--not his career, the respect of his peers...not even his 
life."

"Until you."

"And you." Scully walked over to the shelf and held up the picture 
of the three of them. "We changed him, Grey. You and I. We 
pounded on the door long enough, and hard enough that he finally 
let us inside. I didn't become a part of his life out of charity. Did 
you?"

Grey's brows drew together. "Of course not! You don't really 
believe that, do you?"

"No. But I'm not so sure about Mulder."

Indignation gave way to confusion. "Fox? Why would he think 
such a thing? Just because I don't agree with his theory..."

"Don't agree? Grey, you've not only dismissed it, you've ridiculed 
it. But what's worse is that you've ridiculed *him*. That's nothing 
new for Mulder--he's endured similar treatment in countless police 
departments all over the country, gotten pretty adept at deflecting. 
Problem is, you flew in under his radar. He never saw it coming."

She detected a quick flash of guilt before Grey's expression turned 
mulish. "Dana, I love my brother, but I'm not about to let him turn 
Claire's case into an X-File."

"Even if it is one?" She held up a hand to still his protest. "Forget I 
said that, it's irrelevant. Look, you don't have to agree with him, 
Grey. Just respect him. He's earned it."

The sound of footsteps overhead and then Mulder's voice. 
"Scully?"

Scully held Grey's gaze a moment longer before turning and 
walking to the foot of the stairs. "I'm down here."

"Get your stuff together; we've got to get moving." He appeared 
from the bedroom and jogged down the steps, suitcase in hand, 
talking a mile a minute. "Wait'll you hear what the guys dug up. As 
soon as we get checked in somewhere I've got to find a fax 
machine. They've located more than a dozen instances of UFO 
activity across the country over the last two days and in every case 
there's been a corresponding..." He broke off, stalled on the bottom 
step, as he stared at something just past Scully's right shoulder. She 
felt Grey's proximity a moment later.

Grey inclined his head. "Don't stop on my account."

Mulder's eyes narrowed and he spoke through gritted teeth. 
"Thought you didn't want to hear this."

A shrug, but Grey's shoulders were stiff. "Changed my mind."

Mulder descended the last step and set down the suitcase, directing 
his words to Scully. "There have been over a dozen reports of UFO 
phenomena over the last two days--lights in the sky, power 
fluctuations, even a near miss with a small plane. They seem to be 
spread evenly across the country, but with no discernable pattern." 
He glanced warily at Grey before continuing. "The guys are still 
confirming, but...it looks like in each case a child has also been 
reported missing."

There was a long and very pregnant silence before Grey spun on 
his heel and strode down the hall to the kitchen. Scully watched 
Mulder's face adopt the carefully neutral mask he used to conceal 
pain.

"I want copies of police reports for all the missing kids. Some 
precincts may not have email capability, so if we can locate a 
fax..."

"There's one upstairs, in my office."

Grey walked slowly up the hallway and handed Scully a bottle of 
water. "I think I owe you one of these, darlin'." He turned to look 
at his brother. "Got the machine a year ago when I hurt my back. I 
could at least keep up with paperwork while I was stuck at home." 
His gaze dropped to the suitcase. "Don't go, Fox."

Mulder propped hands on hips, shaking his head. "What's the 
point, Grey? Unless you've had a sudden epiphany regarding my 
theory, we've got very different ideas about how this investigation 
should proceed. You've certainly made it clear..." He took a deep 
breath; sighed. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I don't either." Grey ran one hand over his stubbled chin with an 
audible rasp. "I won't lie to you--I think you're way off base. I 
think whoever took Claire was very clever, and very human, and 
that's the direction I intend to pursue. And I'm not likely to change 
my mind, no matter how many reports of lights in the sky you 
show me." 

He glanced at Scully, who was watching him carefully between 
pulls on the water bottle. "But...I shouldn't have cut you off the 
way I did, without giving you a chance to explain. And I sure as 
hell shouldn't have lost my temper and hit you. I'm sorry, Fox."

Mulder shrugged, mouth twisting in a self-deprecating smirk. "I 
tend to have that effect on people." He studied Grey's face as if 
trying to decipher a code. "What exactly are you suggesting? That 
we each pursue our own line of inquiry?"

"Why not? Split up and we cover twice the ground."

"And avoid fratricide." Mulder's tone was teasing, but Scully 
detected an underlayer of bitterness. He hesitated a moment longer 
before nodding. "All right. If you're sure."

"I am." Grey punctuated his words with a jaw-cracking yawn that 
he unsuccessfully tried to smother behind his hand. "Guess Mark 
was right--I really am nearly asleep on my feet," he admitted 
wearily. "Think I'd better grab a quick nap."

"I believe the requirement was at least five hours--remember?" 
Scully cocked an eyebrow as if daring him to argue.

He chuckled, holding up both hands in surrender. "Yes, Ma'am." 
He scooped up Mulder's suitcase as he headed for the stairs. "I'll 
just put this back in your room. Wouldn't want anyone to trip over 
it."

Mulder waited for the sound of Grey's door closing before turning 
to Scully, arms folded. "You talked to him, didn't you?" His 
expression held a mixture of annoyance and affection.

Scully drained the last drops from the bottle and replaced the lid. 
"It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it."

"Do I even want to know what you said?"

"Probably not." She walked back to the kitchen and deposited the 
bottle in the recycling bin. Mulder leaned against the counter, 
looking pensive. She sighed.

"I told him the truth, Mulder. About you. About me. About the X-
Files." One corner of her mouth turned up. "And I threw in a dash 
of verbal ass-kicking while I was at it."

Mulder feigned a wince. "Been there. No wonder he was 
exhausted."

She punched his arm, leaning companionably beside him.

"Nothing's really changed, you know," Mulder eventually 
continued, his voice very soft. "He still thinks I'm a playing 
without a full deck. It's just that this way he doesn't have to watch."

Scully moved to stand in front of him, chin high. "Then I guess 
you'd better deal with him in the usual manner."

He chuffed quietly. "Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

Her answering grin had a core of steel. "Prove him wrong."


Continued in Chapter 8

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (8/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Eagle Rock
Thursday
6:33 AM


Coffee.

Grey followed his nose down the stairs, draping his tie around his 
neck but leaving it undone. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, 
lips parted to bless whomever had turned on the coffeemaker, but 
pulled up short. 

The first pale threads of light seeped in through the sliding glass 
doors and onto his kitchen table. At least, he was pretty sure it was 
his table. At the moment it was completely hidden beneath faxes, 
emails, notepads, a large map...and his brother. Sprawled over the 
paperwork with cheek cradled on an extended arm, his deep, even 
breaths surprisingly loud in the stillness, Fox held a pen still poised 
in his hand. Dead to the world.

Grey stepped closer and after a moment's hesitation reached down, 
intending to pluck the pen from unresisting fingers.

"Just leave him, Grey."

The soft voice stalled his hand. He straightened, peering into the 
heavily shadowed family room for its owner. Dana sat curled on 
the couch, sipping coffee from one of his large, ceramic mugs. 
Grey retrieved another from the cupboard, filled it, and joined her. 
Clad in sweatpants and one of his brother's tee shirts, freshly 
washed hair tucked behind her ears, she looked like a college girl. 
Only her eyes, shadowed from weariness and too much pain, gave 
her away.

"Morning." He eased himself onto the cushions beside her and 
took a long, satisfying draught from his mug. "Thanks for making 
the coffee."

She smiled. "You're welcome, though I'm afraid my motives were 
less than altruistic. After a long night, it's the only thing that gets 
me moving." She chuckled quietly. "Mulder likens my first cup of 
the morning to a pair of jumper cables."

Grey tilted his chin toward his brother. "How long has he been like 
that?"

Scully checked her watch. "About three hours."

Grey nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. "Three hours?"

"More or less."

"And you just left him there? The bedroom is right upstairs--hell, 
the couch is only five feet away."

Scully gave him a pitying look. "Either option requires waking 
him, Grey."

"So?"

She sighed. "You've seen him when he's immersed in a case, how 
driven he becomes. What do you think would have happened if I'd 
awakened him?"

Grey looked over at the motionless figure, lips twisting into a 
rueful smile. "He'd've gone right back to whatever he was working 
on."

"Exactly."

He winced. "I can't believe he's lasted three hours. He's going to 
have a helluva backache when he wakes up."

"He likes to call himself an insomniac, but when he's finally out he 
can sleep through just about anything." Her mouth quirked with a 
repressed grin. "He'll leverage my guilt into a backrub."

"I can just..."

The phone rang, and Grey scrambled up from the sofa to answer it. 
"Hello?...Hey, sweetheart, it's good to hear your voice..." The 
warmth faded, sorrow creeping in. "No. Nothing more so far..." He 
wandered out of the room and down the hall, voice becoming a 
distant rumble.

Mulder pushed himself upright with a groan. "I hope you got the 
license plate of that truck." Scrubbing his face with both hands, he 
blinked owlishly down at the tabletop. "Damn. I think I drooled on 
Minnesota."

Scully padded into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. She 
placed it into his hands, then attempted to smooth his spiky hair. 
"Well, they do call it the land of 10,000 lakes."

Mulder wrinkled his nose but refrained from reply. After several 
swallows of the hot liquid his eyes had sharpened from bleary to 
alert. "Did I hear the phone?"

She nodded. "Kristen, I think."

"Grey said she's stuck at a seminar in Chicago. She intends to get 
here by the weekend."

"I hope so." Scully gave up on his hair and sat down beside him. 
"He needs her. Maybe more than even he realizes." 

Mulder stretched, grimacing as tendons popped. He looked more 
closely at Scully, brow furrowed. "You showered? What time is 
it?"

"Just after six-thirty. You were out for about three hours."

"Three hours? Did you sleep?"

She nodded, cocking a thumb over her shoulder. "I stretched out on 
the couch for a while. I woke up about a half an hour ago, so I 
showered and made coffee. And don't even say it, Mulder, because 
you know why I left you here."

His scowl was more like a pout. "My back hurts."

"I've got some ibuprofen in my suitcase."

"Sculleee."

She smirked a bit, but stood and moved behind him. Digging her 
fingers into tight muscles, she peered over his shoulder at the map. 
"So, where were we?"

"Fourteen children gone missing over the last several days. Three 
in California," he touched the map with his index finger, "two each 
in Texas and Colorado...Ah, yeah. Right there, babe...and one each 
in Florida, Wisconsin, Illinois, Georgia, Ohio, Massachusetts..."

"And North Carolina," Scully finished quietly, massaging the back 
of his neck with both thumbs.

"The police reports we've seen so far all read the same. The kids 
range from eight to eleven years of age, both boys and girls. No 
witnesses to the abductions, and a complete lack of physical 
evidence at the crime scenes." He paused; shook his head. "Of the 
non-paranormal variety, anyway. However, the guys have been 
able to correlate UFO activity to each disappearance."

Scully gave his shoulders a parting squeeze and sat down. She 
picked up the faxed photo of a little girl with blonde pigtails. "The 
question still remains--why? Why Claire? Why any of these kids?"

Mulder shrugged. "You might ask the same of any abductee. Max 
Fenig, Duane Barry...I'm sure they wished for an answer."

"Are you suggesting this is only the beginning for these kids? That, 
even if returned, they face a future as human lab rats?"

Mulder slipped the photo from her fingers and replaced it with his 
hand. "I know it's not something either of us wants to consider, 
Scully. But I think we would be remiss not to acknowledge the 
possibility."

She latched onto his fingers, face pale. "If it's true... Mulder, I can't 
help wondering how prevalent this could be. Suppose what's in 
front of us is only the tip of the iceberg? Hundreds of children go 
missing every day..."

They stared at each other, stunned. Mulder released her hand and 
fumbled for his cell phone, hitting speed dial four. The Gunmen.

"Byers, it's me...Yeah, I do know what time it is. Look, I need you 
to do another search for me. Same parameters, only this time go 
back a year or two."

Scully collected both their mugs and took them to the sink, one ear 
on Mulder's conversation. Images of her own abduction pressed in 
upon her, a heavy weight on her chest that made it difficult to draw 
breath. The little she remembered of the experience was 
unbearable. That children could be forced to endure something 
similar was unthinkable.

She braced her palms on the counter, shivering. Remembering 
devastating vulnerability. Powerlessness. The ever present 
sensation of being watched by unfriendly eyes. And then, with a 
gut-wrenching twist, she was assaulted by a vivid image of Emily 
lying in her place.
 
Strong arms around her waist and solid warmth along her spine 
pulled her back from the abyss. She tensed, then melted into 
Mulder's embrace, blinking against the dark spots that danced 
before her eyes. He rocked her gently, stubble tickling her cheek as 
he murmured soothingly into her ear. Moments passed before 
words coalesced into meaning.

"Shhh. Scully, it's okay. Deep breaths. Slow it down, babe."

Abruptly, she realized she was gasping like a fish, respiration 
reduced to short, sharp pants for air, heart hammering wildly. 
Pressing her hands over Mulder's, she concentrated on the feeling 
of warmth and security until her tightly coiled body slowly 
relaxed.

"You all right?" Mulder's lips brushed across her temple while he 
kept her securely enveloped within his arms.

Scully nodded, not sure she could trust her voice. She felt raw, off 
balance, and oddly grateful he could not see her face.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm all right. The lack of sleep, the stress--it just got to me for a 
minute."

"Bullshit." The word was uttered without anger, as if he were 
making a statement of fact. She turned in his arms, frowning, but 
he cut her off before she could protest. "You had a flashback, 
Scully. Do you honestly think I don't recognize one when I see it?"

It took the wind out of her sails. He was right, of course. Denying 
it to Mulder, denying it to herself, wouldn't make it go away. She'd 
tried so hard to treat her abduction like an outdated appliance, 
packed up and stored away in a neatly labeled box. In actuality, it 
was more like an embarrassing page in the family photo album--
something she continued to stumble over whenever she tried to 
move forward.

She wound her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the 
soft cotton over his heart. "The one thing I remember with absolute 
clarity is the fear." She uttered the words haltingly, with effort. 
"The unmitigated terror of being completely at the mercy of others 
outweighed even the pain they inflicted."

"It was like you were there. Experiencing it all over again." 
Mulder's voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked her hair.

"At first it was me. But then..." She steeled herself; took a calming 
breath. "Then it was Emily."

His hand stilled, coming to rest on the back of her neck. "Ah, 
Scully."

The ache in his voice soothed a bit of her own sorrow. "I'm all 
right, Mulder."

He pulled back a little to study her face. "I know you are." His 
smile was a bit grim. "This case is bound to push some buttons. 
For both of us."

"I'm heading into the station, so if you two..." Grey paused just 
inside the doorway to the kitchen, gaze shifting between their 
faces. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Scully said, releasing Mulder and returning to 
the mugs in the sink. "How is Kristen?"

A little of the weariness lifted from Grey's face. "Bored. She'd cut 
out early but she's scheduled to make a presentation today at one. 
She'll catch a four o'clock flight and should get in around seven."

Scully smiled. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me, too." 

Grey replaced the phone on its cradle and leaned one hip against 
the counter, watching her set the rinsed cups in the dish drainer. 
After an awkward moment of silence, Mulder walked over to the 
table, slipped on his glasses, and began shuffling paperwork. 
Scully observed them surreptitiously as she dried her hands.  Both 
appeared willing to look everywhere but at each other, and the 
tension between them was tangible.

Grey cleared his throat. "I, uh, got to be heading in to work. Y'all 
should feel free to help yourself to anything edible in the fridge."

Scully waited until it became clear that Mulder, his head bent over 
the paperwork, wasn't going to respond. She gave Grey a tight little 
smile. "I'm surprised you're still here. I expected you to grab a 
quick nap and sneak back to the station. Mark must be tougher 
than I thought."

Grey snorted and shook his head, a flash of his old self surfacing. 
"Mark? Nah, he's nothing but a big softie. Truth is, I called down 
there just after midnight but didn't see much point to going in. He 
had the database stuff under control, and we couldn't start making 
the rounds until morning."

Scully glanced over at Mulder, who was scribbling on a notepad 
with great concentration. If he sensed her attempt to draw him into 
the conversation, he was ignoring it. She plunged onward. 
"So...you're searching the FBI database for known offenders in the 
area?"

"That's the plan. We'll pare down the list as much as possible and 
start checking them out." An uneasy silence. Grey abruptly 
straightened and scooped up the clean mugs, carrying them to the 
cupboard. "Did that fax machine work okay for you last night?"

"Like a charm." Scully walked over and tapped a stack of paper on 
the tabletop. "We were able to collect police reports for eight out 
of the fourteen missing children. Including Claire's, of course. We 
should be able to get the rest today, right Mulder?"

Mulder nodded without pausing in his note taking. Obviously 
distancing himself from the conversation and Grey, damn him.

"Fourteen? All missing like Claire?" Grey's attempt to sound 
casual failed pitifully.

"That's right. What was it again, Mulder? Eight girls and six 
boys?"

"Nine and five." Mulder lifted his head at last, pinning her with a 
glare that said he knew exactly what she was up to.

Grey stepped closer. "Did they all disappear from their beds?"

"No. But all were taken from their homes, at night. No signs of 
forced entry. No physical evidence of an intruder. No witnesses."

Grey's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He folded his arms. "Kids 
go missing every day. Half the time the guilty party is a relative 
and forced entry isn't an issue. Just because it wasn't the case for 
Claire, doesn't mean it didn't happen to one or more of those kids."

Mulder picked up several sheets of paper. "There are other 
similarities to Claire's case, Grey. Reports of lights in the sky. 
Power outages. Heat damage. I can show you..."

Grey raised both hands, palms out. "We had a deal, remember, 
Fox? You steer clear of my investigation and I don't interfere with 
yours."

"If you would just listen for one minute..."

"I don't have a minute." Grey's voice dropped ten degrees, a clear 
warning. 

Mulder thrust his jaw out and turned away. Picking up the pad and 
pen, he doggedly continued to take notes. Anger expressed clearly 
in the stiff set of his shoulders and the short, controlled motion of 
his hands.

"I'll have my cell phone on if you need to reach me." Grey 
addressed the words to Scully. Posture as rigid as his brother's, he 
was out of the kitchen without waiting for acknowledgement.

Scully's eyes slipped shut in resignation.

*End round two. Both parties to their neutral corners.*

*Sure. Fine. Whatever.*


Continued in Chapter 9


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (9/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Eagle Rock
Thursday
10:28 AM


She'd reached critical mass at 9:30. One more minute of pacing, of 
tapping pens, fingers, and toes, of crunching and spitting, and 
Scully was certain she'd be facing charges of manslaughter. She 
doubted any judge would convict her. Mulder was a bundle of 
nerves, snide and sharp-tongued one minute, subdued and 
apologetic the next. At 9:30 she'd plucked the pen from his hand 
and dumped his sweats in his lap, steely eyes daring him to argue. 

He'd just gazed up at her with that trademark smirk. "You know 
what, Scully? Think I'll take a run."

With his departure the house had settled into blessed silence, and 
she'd seized the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

There were good reasons for law enforcement officers not to 
investigate cases involving their family members. Grey's lack of 
objectivity had already proven to be a problem, but Scully was 
beginning to worry about Mulder and herself as well. Samantha 
issues aside, for Mulder this case had become as much about 
proving himself to his brother as finding Claire. Then there was her 
earlier loss of control, and the raw, bruised feeling that even now 
lingered in her chest... Who was left to view the evidence with a 
dispassionate, assessing eye?

From nowhere, an image popped into her head--she and Mulder 
lying on a moonlit beach, bodies entwined, making love under a 
backdrop of stars. The soothing hiss of waves meeting sand. The 
taste of salt and his kisses. And, most of all, the soul-deep 
sensation of peace and contentment she could see reflected on his 
face. Why did it seem those moments, too few and infrequent, 
were inevitably snatched from their grasp? 

Her conversation with Rosa echoed in her head...

*My mother says it's the strongest character that God gives the most 
challenges.*

*Your mama is a wise woman, chiquita. It would seem He has 
challenges for you both.*

Mulder's phone trilled, a jarring interruption to stillness and deep 
thoughts. It rang four times before she found it buried beneath a 
pile of faxes and scooped it up, breathless.

"Scully."

"Ah, the better half."

"Good morning to you too, Frohike."

"Where's my man Mulder?"

"Out for a run. Do you have the information he requested?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"We're still working on it, but I knew you'd be interested in what 
we've found so far."

"I'm listening."

"Like I said, we're still collecting data. But it looks like the events 
of the last few days are a repeat of something that happened six 
months ago. The circumstances appear nearly identical."

Scully's mouth worked impotently for a moment as her brain 
struggled to process what she'd just heard. "What exactly are you 
saying, Frohike? That there was another series of missing 
children?"

"Missing kids, documented UFO activity, the whole nine yards. 
The names and locations are different, but the rest is carbon copy." 
He paused. "With a twist."

"A twist?"

"They came back, Scully. Exactly three days after they 
disappeared, all the kids turned up."

Something in his voice put Scully on alert. "What do you mean, 
they 'turned up'?"

"We're still verifying newspaper articles and police reports. But 
from what we've seen so far, every kid was found very close to 
wherever they were when they went missing."

There it was again, the slightest edge of discomfort in Frohike's 
tone. Apprehension fluttered in Scully's stomach.

"Frohike, what is it you're not telling me?"

An even longer pause--she could almost see him consulting with 
Byers and Langly. When he did speak, he sounded almost 
apologetic.

"This is the part we're still working on, but...the kids...they're dead, 
Scully."

She folded into a chair, heart pounding and mouth dry. "All of 
them?"

"We've confirmed eight out of ten. No details on what killed them 
yet, only that they were in a comatose state when found. Most died 
within a week; one lived nearly three."

Scully closed her eyes against a heartbreakingly clear image of 
Claire's small face. "We'll need names, dates, locations..."

"That's actually the reason I called. One of the kids, Jessica 
Chapman, was from Boone, North Carolina. Thought you'd want 
to know."

"You were right. Fax us everything you've got on her, ASAP. And 
keep us posted on the rest." She drew a hand down her face; 
sighed. "Thank you, Frohike. You've been very helpful."

"No problemo." She was reaching for the disconnect button, 
certain he'd signed off, when he added, "Sorry we don't have better 
news. Tell Grey..."

"I will."

Scully had just replaced the phone on the table when the front door 
slammed. Mulder breezed into the kitchen a moment later, sweaty 
and flushed with cold air and exertion. He grabbed a bottle of 
water from the refrigerator, sent the cap spinning into the garbage 
can, and chugged half its contents. Lowering it with a sigh of 
contentment, he brushed the back of his hand across his lips and 
looked at her for the first time. The animation drained from his 
face as he studied hers.

"What is it, Scully?"

She told him Frohike's news, then followed him upstairs where the 
fax machine was already spitting out pages. They passed them 
back and forth in silence, stunned by the ramifications of what they 
were reading.

Jessica Chapman, age 9. Disappeared from the backyard of her 
home just after dusk on a hot summer evening. No physical 
evidence of her abductor. No witnesses. No phone calls or 
demands for ransom. Found three days later in a patch of tall grass 
at the edge of the property, unconscious. Dead five days after that 
from undisclosed trauma, presumably inflicted by her kidnapper. 
Picture of a vivacious little girl with a page boy haircut and an 
impish smile. A quote from her grief-stricken mother: "I don't 
understand. Things like this don't happen in Boone. We've always 
felt safe here."

Mulder pulled off his glasses and rubbed bloodshot eyes. "We've 
got to go to Boone. Today. Talk to the parents, the doctors. We 
have to find out what really happened. If the timetable holds..."

"How far is Boone?"

"Near the Tennessee border. I'd guess a three, maybe four hour 
drive." He picked up the photo but Scully could tell he was seeing 
the face of a different little girl. 

"We take this one step at a time, Mulder."

His gaze shifted from the photo to her face, something just short of 
anger lurking behind his eyes. "The implications are clear."

"Implications won't help Claire. We need facts."

One corner of his mouth curved upward in the parody of a smile. 
"In my experience the facts haven't helped a helluva lot either." He 
replaced his glasses and began gathering the pages into a neat pile. 
"You know it better than anyone, Scully. Identifying the cause of a 
nightmare is easy. Curing it...that's something else altogether."

The memory of Emily's flushed face and fever-bright eyes stole 
any rebuttal she might have attempted. She took the papers from 
Mulder's hands and gestured to the phone. "We'll need to spend the 
night in Boone. I'll pack us a bag; you give Grey a call."

"Ah..."

She made it to their bedroom before his voice stopped her. 
Looking over her shoulder, she found him leaning in the doorway, 
features arranged into a carefully passive mask.

"Why don't I pack the bag and you can let Grey know what's 
happening?"

Scully struggled to keep her own poker face. Like she couldn't see 
that one coming from a mile away. Turning, arms laced across her 
chest, she propped her weight on one hip.

"For two very good reasons, Mulder. Number one--the last time I 
let you pack our overnight bag, you forgot a few little...necessities. 
Like underwear. *My* underwear."

She knew he'd never be able to resist, and of course, he didn't. 
"See, now that's where we differ, babe. I don't consider underwear 
a necessity."

"Really? I don't seem to remember you going commando anytime 
in the recent past."

"You've been checking? Scully, have I stumbled upon an 
unfulfilled fantasy?"

"*Number two.*" She'd walked right into that one. "I'm not going to 
act as a go-between for you and your brother. I didn't like it in the 
sixth grade when Amy Milligan coerced me into asking Jack 
Pritchard if he liked her; I sure as hell don't intend to reprise the 
role as an adult."

"Fine, I'll do it." Mulder disappeared only to pop back a moment 
later. "And I just want to draw your attention to the fact that I'm 
forgoing the wealth of opportunities presented by that childhood 
tidbit."

His voice was light, the words teasing, yet Scully sensed a darker 
emotion beneath their surface. She tugged Mulder's duffel from 
beneath the bed and began filling it with a change of clothes, 
wishing for a suit and pumps to replace slacks and loafers. Bad 
enough she and Mulder had a dearth of clothing suitable for cold 
weather. If the case dragged on much longer, a shopping trip 
would be unavoidable.

She moved quickly and efficiently--if partnering with Mulder had 
taught her anything, it was how to pack a bag at a minute's notice. 
When she was satisfied she'd overlooked nothing, Scully zipped up 
the duffel and carried it downstairs. She left it on the tile by the 
front door and went in search of Mulder.

He was standing in front of the sliding glass doors, staring out at 
the backyard. Teeth gnawing his lower lip, cell phone clenched in 
his fist, it wasn't difficult to judge his state of mind. She walked 
over to stand beside him. Waiting.

"Guess we didn't do such a bad job building that shed after all. It's 
still standing, anyway."

She remained quiet, letting him talk. Sometimes Mulder had to 
take the long route to reach what he really wanted to say. He'd get 
there, eventually.

The silence stretched long between them before he spoke again. 
"His cell said he was unavailable. I had to leave a voicemail." 
Another long pause. "I was glad, Scully. I was glad I didn't have to 
talk to my own brother."

The lost quality to his voice bothered her less than the resignation. 
Scully tugged on his arm, pulling him over to sit in one of the 
kitchen chairs. She stepped between his knees, one hand brushing 
through his hair before coming to rest on his cheek.

"The days of running are over, Mulder. You're not alone anymore--
you have a family, people in your life who care about you. That 
means weathering the bad times, working through them even when 
it hurts like hell. Not shutting yourself off to numb the pain."

He jerked away from her touch, eyes flat and hard. "Being part of a 
family shouldn't mean baring your jugular and then handing over a 
knife."

"Nor should it mean hiding all sharp objects."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Scully kept her voice gentle but firm. "I think 
you experienced it first hand, after your sister was taken. Your 
mother, your father... They taught you to guard your heart, love. 
But now it's time to unlearn that lesson; it's time to take a risk. 
Grey's worth it--isn't he?"

Mulder looked away and his throat worked convulsively. "You 
don't understand." The words were rough and thick with anger and 
tears. "Losing Sam was almost more than I could bear. I felt I'd let 
her down, that it was my fault I lost her. I've finally--" he sucked in 
a shaky breath--"*finally* come to accept that what happened was 
beyond my control. 

"But, don't you see, Scully, if I lose Grey now it *will* be on my 
shoulders. A direct result of who I am. And I don't think..." He 
choked on the words, jaw tightly clenched. "I *know* that I can't 
open myself up to that. Better to pull back now and salvage what I 
can."

How could someone be so intuitive in some areas and blind in 
others? Scully laid her hand on the top of his head, not stroking or 
caressing, just connecting.

"Mulder, pulling back is the only thing that will cause you to lose 
Grey. This is a crossroads in your relationship, an opportunity for 
it to evolve into something deeper, stronger. Do you remember 
what Rosa said to you? Dark times will either pull souls together or 
tear them apart. *You* have to choose."

He stared at her for a disconcertingly long moment, then wrapped 
his arms around her and rested his cheek against her belly. "You 
make it sound simple."

She chuckled, petting the hair beneath her fingers. "It's an illusion. 
I'm sure you've noticed I'm not always the most open person 
myself. But I'm trying, Mulder. For you. For us."

He chuffed quietly, breath warming her stomach through the thin 
cotton of her shirt. "Guess we're both works in process." Another 
squeeze and he released her, standing up. "Bag all packed?"

"Packed and ready to go. I left it by the front door."

He glanced at his watch. "Let me grab a quick shower and we'll hit 
the road. If we make good time we should be able to get there 
before dark." He cocked an eyebrow at her as they left the kitchen. 
"Did you remember your underwear?"

Scully gave him a longsuffering look. "First thing in the bag."

"Damn."

She followed him up the stairs, hiding a smirk. He'd neglected to 
ask if she'd packed his.


Continued in Chapter 10


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (10/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Boone, NC
Thursday
4:18 PM


"You mind telling me why the FBI is so interested in this file?" 
Sheriff Paxton kept one hand atop the folder, a decidedly 
suspicious glint in his eyes.

"It's an open kidnapping case, isn't it?" Mulder's answer was mild, 
his face guileless.

"Depends on your definition of open. That case hasn't seen any 
action in almost five months." Paxton's words might be directed 
toward Mulder, but his eyes were busy conducting a geological 
survey of Scully's figure.

Mulder clamped his teeth together until his jaw ached. "Did you 
find the kidnapper?"

That captured the sheriff's attention and cooled his tone another ten 
degrees. "You know we didn't."

"Then it's an open case." With great effort Mulder refrained from 
uttering any one of at least five follow-up digs that popped into his 
head. Barely.

Scully shot him a quelling look before smiling politely at Paxton. 
"I'm sure you're very busy, but before you leave us, Sheriff, is 
there anything not in this file that, in your expert opinion, you feel 
we should know about this case?"

Mulder shoved his hands into his pockets and tucked chin to chest, 
chewing on his lower lip to stifle a grin. No one could schmooze 
the locals better than Scully--in one sentence she'd managed to ask 
Paxton to leave while still stroking his ego. He watched from 
beneath his lashes as Paxton smoothed silver hair, chest puffed 
with self-importance.

"I run a thorough, by-the-book department here, ma'am. If it's 
important to the case, it'll be in that file. Whoever took that little 
girl--if someone did indeed take her--was very careful not to leave 
a speck of trace evidence. Sad to say, there just wasn't much to 
investigate."

Mulder looked up, eyebrows raised. "*If* someone took her?"

Paxton shrugged, his gaze crawling over Scully's body as he spoke. 
"Like I said, we found no evidence of a kidnapper. This is a close-
knit community, Agent Mulder. Little girls don't get snatched from 
their yards without somebody noticing."

"What are you saying?" Scully folded her arms across her chest--
whether in irritation or self-defense, Mulder couldn't have said.

"If you ask me, I think the child wandered off. Maybe she was 
angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans, I dunno. 
It's easy enough to get lost out here, turned around until you don't 
know what direction you're headed. Maybe a simple sulk turned 
into more than she bargained for."

Mulder didn't attempt to hide his scorn. "You think she just headed 
into the forest with no food, no water? Do you really believe a 
nine-year-old girl could survive for three days under those 
circumstances?"

Paxton's eyes narrowed. "Well, she didn't exactly survive, now, did 
she?"

Mulder bristled. "That's..."

"...an interesting theory, Sheriff." Scully laid a restraining hand on 
Mulder's arm as she reached for the folder. "Thank you for sharing 
your thoughts with us. We'll let you know if we need anything 
else."

Paxton glared at Mulder for a moment longer before relinquishing 
the file. He tipped his chin at Scully-- "Ma'am" -- and swaggered 
out of the room.

Mulder yanked a chair away from the table and sat, muttering 
something that sounded suspiciously like "redneck" under his 
breath. Scully eased into her own seat with a bit more finesse, lips 
twitching.

"Mulder, let it go."

"'Angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans'? What 
kind of a lame theory is that?"

"I'm forced to point out that he'd consider your own theory to be 
equally without merit. We both know he's fallen off the track, so..."

"Fallen off the track? You're kidding, right?" Mulder leaned in 
closer, jerking his thumb toward the door. "He'd need a map to 
locate the track. Maybe if he kept his mind on business he'd have 
some answers for what happened to that little girl."

"Kept his mind on business? Mulder, are you jealous?" She poked 
her tongue into her cheek, but the grin still tugged at the corners of 
her mouth. "The man must be at least sixty years old."

"Yeah, well there's nothing wrong with his eyesight, given the way 
he kept taking inventory."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we look at the file now?"

Despite its eerie similarity to Claire's case, the investigation into 
Jessica Chapman's disappearance and reappearance offered little 
insight into what really had happened. As they read through the 
documentation, Scully found herself drawn again and again to a 
black-and-white crime scene photo of weeds crushed and flattened 
in the shape of a little girl's body.

"It says here that there were no outward signs of physical trauma," 
Mulder said. "No bruises or contusions. She was clean and dressed 
in the same clothing as when she disappeared. Yet she was 
completely unresponsive, even to painful stimulus."

"There could be many explanations for that, Mulder. Trauma to the 
brain can occur from something as simple as a sudden, violent 
motion of the head, the so-called 'shaken baby syndrome.' Not to 
mention the number of chemical compounds that would be 
undetectable on a routine toxicology screen." Scully flipped 
through several pages of witness statements before locating the 
autopsy report.

"Her older sister Theresa, age...14, found her." Mulder arranged 
his features in a neutral expression. "She was coming home from a 
friend's house, cutting across the backyard. After several 
unsuccessful attempts to wake Jessica, she ran and got her mother, 
who called police and EMTs."

"Oh my God." Scully's soft gasp pulled his attention from the 
paperwork. Her gaze flickered rapidly across the autopsy report.

"What is it?"

"The coma... I'd guessed it was due to internal damage. But this..." 
She swallowed; shook her head. "A CT scan at the hospital 
showed, and the autopsy confirms, that a small section of Jessica's 
cerebral cortex near the parietal lobe was excised."

"Excised? You mean someone cut out a piece of her brain?" 

"Yes--" Scully licked her lips, "--and no. Though a section of brain 
tissue was clearly missing, she displayed none of the 
corresponding effects of major brain surgery--her head had not 
been shaved, there was no incision, and the skull remained intact. 
Mulder..." She shook her head as if trying to break out of a daze. 
"It's as if the tissue was neatly extracted without cutting her open."

Mulder stared at her, vindication and dread churning his stomach. 
"And how could that be accomplished, Dr. Scully?"

"It couldn't. Not by any medical technology currently available."

"On this planet, anyway."

She ignored his jibe. "I've never seen anything like this. According 
to the report, Jessica's EEG showed massive amounts of 
electroconductivity."

"What does that mean?"

"It's analogous to an electrical storm across the brain's surface. A 
comprehensive, rapid misfiring of neurons that essentially 
paralyzed brain function."

"As in brain death?"

"Clinically, it's the antithesis of brain death, but with the same 
impact on the body's systems--an irreversible vegetative state." 
Scully flipped the report closed and looked up at him, face grim. 
"A condition similar, in some respects, to what you experienced 
after exposure to the artifact. In Jessica's case, her body's systems 
began to shut down. Her parents eventually made the decision to 
terminate life support."

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw. Weariness settled across his 
shoulders like a heavy blanket, and he could read exhaustion in 
Scully's eyes. "We need to talk to Jessica's family. Tonight."

"I have the home number right here. I'll call and find out if they're 
willing to see us." Scully pulled out her cell phone, but made no 
move to dial the number.

"Scully?"

She sighed. "It's been six months. I hate to reopen wounds just 
beginning to heal."

"We have no choice, Scully, and neither do they. They're witnesses 
in an ongoing investigation into the kidnapping and murder of not 
only their own child, but others as well. Claire's life may depend 
on what we can learn from Jessica."

"I know that, Mulder.  I also know how it feels to lose a child. So 
I'd appreciate a bit less logic and a little more compassion, if you 
don't mind." She stood up, phone in hand, pointedly ignoring 
Mulder's stunned expression. "Why don't you see if you can make 
a copy of that file? I'll meet you by the front door."

She'd marched halfway across the room when he found his voice. 
"I was there too, Scully."

She jerked to a stop, but it was a moment before she slowly turned 
to face him. The anguish in her eyes made his throat ache. "I know 
you were, Mulder, but you'll never understand. She wasn't *your* 
child. And I realize we have to talk to the Chapmans. I'm just tired. 
Tired of seeing little girls treated like lab rats. And tired of being 
powerless to stop it. Samantha, Emily, Jessica, and now Claire... 
When is it going to stop, Mulder? When are we ever going to do 
more than pick up the pieces?"

He stood and walked over, enveloping her trembling body in his 
arms. "I'm tired too. But every time we pick up the pieces, we put a 
little more of the puzzle together. And one day we *will* stop them, 
Scully. I promise you that."

She buried her face against his chest, her reply muffled by the soft 
material of his shirt. "I want to believe, Mulder. I really do."


808 Larkspur Lane
6:23 PM


Sometimes she forgot how good he was at this.

From the moment Sharon Chapman had opened the front door, 
Mulder had taken charge, shepherding the still grieving couple 
through a barrage of difficult and often painful questions with tact 
and sensitivity. Scully winced at the thought of her earlier outburst, 
fueled by stress and fatigue. Though Mulder's pursuit of the truth 
could be relentless, it was tempered by deep compassion and 
empathy. Time and time again she'd seen victims sense this and 
respond--Duane Barry, Lucy Householder, Marty Glenn...

The Chapmans, initially wary and reserved, had proved to be no 
exception.

"The doctors ran every test they could think of, but came up 
empty." Kevin Chapman, shook his head, hands clasped tightly 
between his knees. Though Mulder's age, he looked nearly a 
decade older. "How can you fix something if you don't understand 
what's broken?"

"No one could tell us *why* Jess was...the way she was. She looked 
just like she had when she ran out to play that night, there wasn't a 
mark on her, not a scrape or a bruise. When I picked her up out of 
those weeds, I thought, 'Thank God! My baby's home, she's come 
back to me.' And then I realized she wasn't responding..." Mrs. 
Chapman's eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears. "When 
the doctors compared her condition to brain death, I was sure there 
must be some mistake. I still believed she'd wake up any minute 
and prove them all fools."

Her husband reached over to clasp her trembling hand between his 
own. "They told us there was no hope. That Jessica's systems were 
shutting down. We could either prolong the inevitable--" the 
ragged words caught in his throat, which he cleared with an 
unsteady breath, "--or let her go. I wonder every day if we made 
the right choice." He directed the last at Scully, wounded eyes 
begging for any absolution she might grant.

As she was hunting for a response, Mulder spoke. "You made a 
judgement call based on your love for your daughter. There was no 
wrong decision."

And that, Scully reflected wryly, was why she put up with the 
man's crap. Beneath the occasionally insensitive bastard was a soul 
who felt others' pain as keenly as his own.

"We'd like your permission to look at Jessica's medical records and 
speak with her doctors," she said aloud, offering Mulder the barest 
curve of her lips. 

"You still haven't told us why you're here." Kevin, who owned and 
managed a small grocery store in town, had proved to be astute and 
perceptive--far from the "small town hick" stereotype. "Why have 
two agents come all the way from Washington DC to look into 
Jess's kidnapping--especially after all this time?"

Mulder's eyes flicked to Scully's before meeting Chapman's. 
"There's been an incident near Raleigh. A little girl has gone 
missing under circumstances similar to Jessica's.  Our hope is that 
something we learn from this case may help us to help her."

"Dear God." His wife searched their faces. "You think the same 
person who hurt Jessica kidnapped that child? Like a serial 
murderer?"

Scully gave her partner a warning look. "We really can't be certain 
of anything at this point."

Mulder picked up a framed photograph from an end table--Jessica 
and an older girl with arms slung around each other's necks, both 
dressed in hiking boots and backpacks. "Do you do much hiking?"

Mr. Chapman's wistful smile erased a few of the lines around his 
dark eyes. "Our favorite family activity. I started taking the girls 
out as soon as they could walk. By the time she was five Jessica 
could hike several miles without asking to be carried."

"So young? Weren't you afraid she'd wander off, become lost?"

"I kept a close eye on her, of course. Taught her all the basics 
about safety and woodcraft, what to do if you ever become 
separated from your group."  He huffed. "Compared to some of the 
city folks we see camping around here, both my girls were pros."

Mulder's eyes grazed Scully's as he replaced the photo. She heard 
his message loud and clear. So much for Sheriff Paxton's theory 
that Jessica had simply wandered off and lost her way. 

He leaned forward, forearms propped on his knees. "Mr. and Mrs. 
Chapman, would you mind if we spoke to Theresa?"

The couple stiffened, defenses raised. Some sort of nonverbal 
communication passed between them before Sharon spoke. "I don't 
really see what possible help she could be."

"According to the police report, she was the one who found 
Jessica." 

"That's right. But she didn't see anything." Mr. Chapman glanced 
at the staircase; lowered his voice. "Agent Mulder, Theresa and 
Jessica were very close. Finding her little sister that 
way...well...Theresa had nightmares for weeks after Jess's death." 
His expression hardened. "Being grilled by the police didn't help. I 
know you're just trying to do your job, but you can't imagine what 
it's like from this end, especially for a child..."

"My younger sister was abducted from our home when I was 
twelve. I was the only one there at the time, the only witness to the 
crime." Scully glanced sharply at her partner, surprised by his 
admission. Mulder's gaze never wavered from the Chapmans' 
faces. "Believe me, sir, I understand. I won't say or do anything to 
upset Theresa."

Another silent consultation and Mr. Chapman slowly nodded his 
head. "All right. As long as she agrees."

"Thank you."

Mr. Chapman paused by the staircase. "Did you ever find out what 
happened to your sister, Agent Mulder?"

A loaded question. Scully watched her partner fumble for a 
response.

"She was raised by another family, but died when she was 
fourteen."

"I'm sorry."

Mulder met Scully's eyes; smiled. "It was a long time ago."

An awkward silence descended as they waited for Mr. Chapman to 
return with Theresa. Mrs. Chapman stood and walked over to the 
bay window, gazing into the darkness.

"This other little girl--how long has she been missing?"

"Nearly three days," Scully answered.

For a moment the woman's only response was the slump of her 
shoulders. When she did speak, the words were nearly inaudible. 
"Whoever her mother is, I hope to God she doesn't have to endure 
what I have."

Footsteps on the stairs, and Mr. Chapman returned with the older 
girl from the photo. Theresa's face was longer and thinner than her 
sister's, her hair a darker shade of blonde. Still, the sibling 
relationship was obvious. She perched on the edge of a chair, 
eyeing Mulder and Scully with some trepidation.

Scully's warm smile and gentle tone were calculated to put her at 
ease. "Theresa, I'm Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Agent 
Mulder. We just want to ask you a few questions about the night 
you found your sister. Would that be all right?"

A long pause as Theresa's gaze moved from mother to father, 
evidently reassured by what she saw. "Okay."

"You were on your way home from a friend's house--is that 
correct?"

Theresa nodded. "Stacey lives right behind us."

"You were alone?" Scully couldn't help voicing some surprise.

"Of course not, " Mr. Chapman interrupted, plainly defensive. "For 
all we knew Jessica's kidnapper was still in the area. Stacey's father 
walked Theresa home."

Scully frowned. "I don't understand. The police report only lists 
Theresa as finding her sister."

Theresa ducked her head, flushing. "That's not when I found her. 
I...um...went back outside. Mom and Dad didn't know." She darted 
a sheepish glance at her parents. "I'd dropped a pack of gel pens 
somewhere along the way and I was pretty sure I knew where. So I 
took a flashlight and went out to find them."

"And found more than you bargained for." Scully's voice was 
gentle.

Theresa swallowed, eyes glistening. "Yeah."

"And you didn't see anyone else? In one of the adjacent yards or 
walking along the street?"

"No. Nobody."

Scully nodded. "Thank you, Theresa. We appreciate you talking to 
us."

"I have one more question." Mulder smiled encouragingly when 
Theresa appeared startled by his abrupt interjection. "It's an easy 
one. Theresa, when you were walking home with Mr. Cooper, did 
anything unusual or interesting happen?"

Her forehead crinkled as she tried to process his question. "No." 
She caught herself; smirking a bit. "Unless you call Jimmy Joyce 
still setting off fireworks a month after Fourth of July interesting."

Mulder leaned in closer, his face bland. "Fireworks?"

She nodded, disdain transforming her from fourteen to thirty-two. 
"I don't know what it was, but it made a real big flash. Lit up our 
whole backyard, and Stacey's, too. Mr. Cooper said he was gonna 
call the cops, but he always says that when Jimmy's causing 
trouble, and he never does."

Mulder's answering grin didn't touch his eyes. "Thank you, 
Theresa. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about this. You've 
been very helpful."

She shrugged, offering a shy smile. "You're welcome."

They all stood and began the niceties for Mulder and Scully to 
make their exit. Mulder had one hand on the doorknob and Scully 
was already standing on the front porch, when Theresa peered 
around her father.

"Agent Mulder, the little girl who's missing--does she have a sister 
to find her?"

Only Scully was able to see the hairline fracture in Mulder's 
professional facade. He blinked, then looked somberly at the little 
girl. "No, Theresa. But she has me."

Scully placed a firm hand on his arm, her voice pitched for his ears 
alone. "She has us both."


Continued in Chapter 11

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (11/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


St. Mary's Hospital
Thursday
8:47 PM


Dr. Joshua Keating, neurologist, was not pleased.

He sat stiffly behind his large mahogany desk, drumming fingers 
and increasingly sour expression clearly communicating 
impatience. Hardly surprising. If the string of agitated nurses he'd 
left in his wake was any indication, the good doctor was not 
accustomed to being kept waiting.

Scully, by contrast, presented the picture of calm. Settled 
comfortably into the leather-cushioned chair, legs crossed, she 
worked her way through Jessica Chapman's medical file, scanning 
reports and examining test results with thorough and unhurried 
attention to detail. To the casual observer she appeared completely 
oblivious to Keating's barely restrained irritation. Mulder alone 
recognized that she was deliberately ignoring the doctor--by the 
obstinate line between her brows and the occasional tightening of 
her lips when Keating's fidgeting disrupted her concentration.

He leaned back into his own chair, answering the doctor's 
longsuffering glare with a studiously bland look to conceal his 
amusement.

*Tsk, tsk, Agent Scully. Who's not playing nice now?*

Keating propped his arms on his desk and cleared his throat. "Can 
we get on with this? I spent ten hours in surgery today and another 
two writing up my notes. The last thing I needed was to be dragged 
back here less than an hour after I arrived home."

Scully continued reading, leaving Mulder to smooth ruffled 
feathers. He pasted on his most diplomatic smile.

"As I said over the phone, doctor, we do apologize for the late 
hour. The time-sensitive nature of our investigation prohibited us 
from waiting until morning."

Keating's scowl deepened. "Jessica Chapman died six months ago, 
Agent Mulder. I fail to see the urgency."

All right, so he sucked at diplomacy. Why should Scully have all 
the fun?

"If I'm not mistaken, Dr. Keating, the true cause of Jessica 
Chapman's death was an overabundance of ignorance--on the part 
of police who failed to determine the specific details of her 
abduction, and a medical community that could neither adequately 
diagnose her condition nor devise a cure. Now there's another little 
girl missing under nearly identical circumstances whose parents 
would consider your input extremely helpful. Does that fit your 
definition of urgent?"

Keating turned purple. "Now look here, I did everything possible 
for that little girl..."

"Dr. Keating, I'm certain Agent Mulder didn't mean to imply you 
were less than thorough in your treatment of Jessica Chapman." 
Scully directed an upraised eyebrow and a quelling look at Mulder 
before turning her attention to Keating. "From the her chart I can 
see that you tried all the conventional approaches to handling what 
was, indeed, a very unconventional condition."

Keating huffed, shooting Mulder his own glare before favoring 
Scully with a thin smile. "As you can see, I consulted with 
colleagues in Ashville during every step of the treatment. 
Unfortunately our efforts proved too little, too late. In layman's 
terms, the child's brain simply went into overdrive until it burned 
itself out. All her life-sustaining systems began to fail within 
twenty-four hours after she was admitted. There was simply 
nothing we could do to save her."

"According to the chart, you tried heavy doses of anticonvulsants. 
There were no discernable effects?"

Keating ran a hand over his face, weariness replacing self-
righteousness. For the first time they saw not an arrogant surgeon, 
but a frustrated healer. "None. Considering we had previous data to 
show that Jessica responded to Zarontin, I'd hoped that in 
combination with Tegretol it might at least achieve some 
dampening of the electrical activity across the brain's surface."

Scully sat up a little straighter. "Jessica had been on Zarontin prior 
to this incident?"

"Not over the past twelve months, but yes, Jessica Chapman had a 
history of epilepsy. Nothing severe, just the occasional petit mal--
or what we now call absence seizure. Her pediatrician had 
maintained her on a low dose of Zarontin for several years."

Scully frowned. "We spoke with her parents earlier this evening. 
They never mentioned it."

"My understanding was that she'd outgrown the condition. As I 
said, she hadn't been medicated for it in over a year."

As Scully flipped back through the chart, armed with this new 
piece of information, Mulder cleared his throat. "Dr. Keating, do 
you have any explanation for the missing brain tissue?"

Keating's wry laugh surprised them both. "Unless someone's 
invented one of those gizmos the doctor on Star Trek had, no, I 
don't. We're not talking an area of dead tissue, Agent Mulder. It 
was extracted--surgically, I'd say, if I could only have found the 
damn incision." He shook his head. "Ironic, really."

Scully looked up. "How so?"

"The area that had been removed? It was the exact section of 
affected tissue that had caused the child's earlier bout with 
epilepsy. What are the odds of that?"

"I'm beginning to wonder." Mulder's muttered response was nearly 
inaudible, spoken more to himself than the others.

Scully's gaze was sharp, but she remained pensive and silent. 
Keating shook off his own bemusement, irritation once more 
creasing his brow.

"Is there anything else?"

Feeling Scully's silent question, Mulder gave a slight shake of his 
head. She turned back to Keating, gravely professional.

"That's all for now, Dr. Keating. If anything else comes up, we'll 
be in touch." They all stood, Scully still holding the chart. "If 
you've no objections, I'd like a few more minutes to go over 
Jessica's test results."

With freedom in sight, Keating could afford to be expansive. "Not 
at all, not at all. Feel free to use my office for as long as you like, 
and to make yourself a copy of that chart, if necessary. If you leave 
it on my desk, I'll make sure it's returned to records in the 
morning."

*In other words, you'll order some overworked nurse to take it down 
for you.*  Mulder extended his hand, smirking inwardly.

"Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Keating."

He waited until he was certain Keating was out of earshot before 
allowing himself a look into Scully's eyes. The turmoil he saw 
more than matched the churning in his gut. He opened his mouth to 
speak, but she beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say, Mulder."

"Coincidences, Scully. You know how I feel about them."

"I agree, it seems beyond mere chance that the same brain tissue 
responsible for Jessica's epilepsy should be the tissue missing after 
her abduction. But at this point I'm inclined to think it has little 
bearing on Claire's case."

It was there, on the edge of conscious thought, hovering just out of 
reach. Something important, something he'd heard or seen... A key 
that could possibly open the door to all the answers they sought. 
Mulder turned and braced his palms on Keating's desk, letting his 
eyes slip shut as he tried to concentrate, to follow the wisp of 
smoke to its source.

"Mulder." Scully's fingers, somehow freed from the chart, kneaded 
the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. "I want to connect the 
dots as badly as you, but we have to take care not to draw lines that 
don't exist."

Normally soothing, her hands and words were an irritation, a 
distraction. He ground his response through clenched teeth. "They 
*are* there, Scully. We just aren't seeing them."

"Everything we've learned here will serve Claire, should the need 
arise. Even knowing which treatments failed, that the Tegretol and 
Zarontin had no effect..."

Like a raised shade in a dark room, the memory returned in one 
glorious burst of light. Mulder spun on his heel so quickly he 
nearly knocked her off her feet.

"That's it! *That's* what I've been trying to recall. Scully, do you 
remember Kira's reaction when you showed Talbot the prescription 
bottles?"

Scully gazed at him blankly for a moment before her brow 
furrowed with concentration. "She was surprised...worried, too, I 
guess."

"Exactly. Because she recognized the Zarontin. She not only knew 
the name, she was familiar with its purpose."

Scully's frown deepened as she searched her own memory. "That's 
right. She called it an anticonvulsant."

"A pretty technical term--don't you think?"

Scully's eyes widened. "You think Claire is an epileptic? Grey's 
never mentioned it, and she's never shown any sign."

Mulder began to pace--no easy feat in the small office. "If she'd 
pretty much outgrown it, like Jessica, why would he?"

"It's not exactly an uncommon childhood ailment. The symptoms 
are so mild they can easily be mistaken for a limited ability to 
concentrate."

Mulder abruptly stopped moving. "What if this is our answer, 
Scully? What if that little piece of seemingly damaged brain tissue 
is more than meets the eye? What if it's the reason the kids were 
abducted?"

Scully gaped at him for a moment before shaking her head. 
"You're getting ahead of yourself. We don't even know if Claire 
and the other kids were epileptics."

"Then we need to find out. As soon as possible."

His cell phone punctuated his words with a sharp trill. He 
absentmindedly punched the button, his mind traveling 60 miles an 
hour in the opposite direction.

"Mulder."

"We've got news."

The lack of telephone foreplay sent Mulder's stomach on a long, 
slow roll. "What is it, Frohike?"

"Those other kids that went missing the same time as your 
brother's niece? Four of them are back."

"Details."

"Sketchy so far--we're working on it. From what we're seeing, 
they're being returned in the same order they were taken. We've 
been monitoring all the hot spots, figuring the rest will keep 
showing up in the same sequence."

"Any word on their conditions?"

"In every case so far, EMTs were called and the kids taken to the 
hospital. Langly was able to hack into admittance records for the 
first two." A slight hesitation. "They list the kids as being 
comatose on arrival."

Mulder gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a steadying breath 
before answering. "I need everything you can dig up, Hickey. 
Police reports, witness testimony...  If you get me a list of the 
hospitals, Scully can call and use her badge number to access 
patient records." Dryly. "Legitimately."

"Got it covered. I'll have Langly email ASAP."

"Keep in touch."

"One more thing you should know. The kids are turning up close to 
wherever they were when they disappeared. One of 'em was even 
back in her own bed. The mother was seriously freaked when she 
walked into the room and found her daughter sleeping as if nothing 
had happened." He cleared his throat. "Uh, until she tried to wake 
her up, that is. Maybe you'd better make sure your brother has 
someone watching the house."

"I'm on it. Thanks."

Scully laid a hand on his arm as he disconnected and then began 
rapidly punching in Grey's number. "Some of the children have 
been found?"

"Four. All comatose." Mulder grimaced, hating the sharpness of 
his reply. "The guys think they're being returned in the same order 
they were taken."

"Detective McKenzie."

"Grey, it's me."

"Fox? You in Boone?"

"Yeah. We're done here, we should be on the road shortly." He 
watched Scully tense, then slump in resignation.

"Tonight? I thought you were going to get a room. That's a helluva  
long trip to make this late."

"We'll mainline some caffeine. Listen, Grey, I need you to do 
something for me."

"Anything, Fox. You just gotta ask."

It warmed a spot inside of him that he'd feared would never thaw. 
His lips curved and a little of the tightness eased in the aching 
muscles along his spine.

"I need you to have someone keep an eye on Kira's place. Twenty-
four hour surveillance."

A pregnant silence as he sensed Grey examining his request, 
turning it over and over like a child with a new toy. "What do you 
know that I don't know?"

"Do you remember me telling you that some other kids went 
missing the same time Claire did? Well, a few of them have been 
returned."

"What do you mean? Did they catch who did it?"

There were so many answers to that question, none of them 
conducive to healing the rift between them. Mulder sighed. "No. 
All I'm saying is that I think there's a good possibility Claire could 
turn up, and if she does it will be close to home. Just trust me in 
this, will you? It's not going to cost you anything."

Another long pause, and he knew Grey was biting back his own 
string of retorts. Finally, his brother let out his own gusty sigh. "All 
right. I'll see who I can spare."

The flood of relief left him exhausted and nearly giddy. "Thank 
you."

Grey's voice dropped until it was little more than a murmur. "You 
think we're going to find her soon, don't you? That's why you're 
driving home tonight."

The phone felt slippery in Mulder's grip. "Yeah. I do."

"I hope to hell you're right." His wistful tone turned businesslike. 
"Be careful. Some of those roads can be tricky in the dark."

"We will." He was about to hang up; caught himself. "Grey?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to sound strange, but... Is Claire epileptic?"

A sharp intake of breath. "What in the... How did you know that? 
Did Kira mention it?"

Goosebumps broke out, tingling along his arms and legs. "No. Are 
you saying she is?"

"*Was* is more like it. It was always pretty mild, and she hasn't had a 
seizure in over a year. Kira doesn't give her medicine for it 
anymore." His voice sharpened. "Why, Fox? What does it have to 
do with anything?"

"Not over the phone. I'll explain when we see you."

A trace of Grey's dry wit returned. "I'll be looking forward to it 
with bated breath."

"See you in a few hours." He disconnected, still reeling from the 
impact of Grey's confirmation.

"Claire has epilepsy?" Scully studied his face as he pocketed the 
phone.

"Had. Sounds just like Jessica; their symptoms even disappeared 
about the same time. It's the link, Scully. I know it."

"We'll get a clearer picture when we can compare the other kids' 
medical records." She ran her hand down his arm, taking his hand. 
"You've done all you can for now."

Mulder rubbed at eyes burning with emotion and fatigue. "Maybe 
so. I just wish I didn't get the feeling this has been the easy part, 
Scully. That the really hard part's yet to come."

Her only response was a tightening of the fingers tangled with his. 
Somehow, though, it was more than enough.

 
Interstate 
1:58 AM


Scully sipped her coffee, blinking gritty eyes. She eased the 
styrofoam cup into the holder, careful not to disturb the man 
sprawled bonelessly against her shoulder. She'd taken possession 
of his car keys at the last rest stop, firmly ignoring protests that he 
was perfectly able to drive. Within ten minutes, darkness and the 
rhythmic hum of tires on pavement had lulled him to sleep. An all-
to-brief respite before the ordeal that lay ahead.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and rolled her head, 
steeling herself against her own weariness. Mulder's soft, even 
breathing and warm weight against her side was a seductive 
invitation to join him in slumber. Not an option, if they were going 
to make it back to Raleigh in one piece. Thank God they were 
within an hour of their destination.

The high-pitched warble of his cell phone, abnormally loud in the 
silence, startled her. Her hands jerked inadvertently to the right, 
briefly swerving the car onto the shoulder of the road with a spray 
of gravel before she caught herself. Mulder jerked upright as if the 
tone carried an electrical charge, fumbling in his pockets until he 
produced the offending device. His voice was thick and heavy with 
sleep.

"Mulder."

She read the caller's message in his rigid posture and the tight, 
carefully controlled tone of his voice. Depressing the gas pedal, 
she increased the car's speed to well past the posted limit. Mulder's 
announcement, when it came, brought no surprise. Only bitter 
resignation.

"Claire's back. She's been taken to Raleigh Community Hospital."

She gave a short nod, keeping her gaze focused on the road as she 
sent up a silent prayer.

*Dear God, help Claire. Help us all.*


Continued in Chapter 12

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (12/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh Community Hospital
Friday
3:16 AM


She was so small. 

Pale as the sheet beneath her cheek, tousled curls spread across the 
pillow, the hospital bed and machinery dwarfed her already slight 
frame until she appeared impossibly frail and tiny.

Mulder chewed on his lip, throat tightening as he watched Kira 
press Claire's limp hand to her cheek, weeping. Peripherally, he 
was aware of Scully's hushed consultation with the doctor, Grey's 
agitated pacing, and Kristen's gentle attempts to soothe. But he 
couldn't seem to tear his gaze from the poignant tableau on the 
other side of the glass.

Scully's hand at the small of his back startled him from 
contemplation. He turned to face her, abruptly struck by her 
shadowed eyes and the lines of weariness around her mouth. He 
inwardly berated himself for acquiescing to her demand that she 
drive the final leg of the trip back to Raleigh. They were both 
skating on the edges of exhaustion, but with her medical expertise, 
Scully held the crucial role in what lay ahead. 

He smoothed a disheveled lock of hair behind her ear. "Let me 
guess--she's a mirror image of Jessica Chapman."

"Tests are still being run, but, yes, her condition is remarkably 
similar to that of the Chapman girl. Right down to the mysteriously 
excised brain tissue. And get this, Mulder. The missing tissue is 
from the cerebral cortex, near the parietal lobe."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Like Jessica."

"The location is practically identical." Scully gazed over his 
shoulder, then away, swallowing. "Dr. Hsu has graciously offered 
me the use of a conference room and fax machine. I need to review 
data on the other children as soon as possible. Perhaps by 
determining which treatments have failed--"

"What other children?"

Scully looked up sharply, surprised to see Grey standing just 
behind Mulder, Kristen at his side. His piercing gaze was that of a 
drowning man.

"I need you two to be straight with me. I can see you know 
something about what's wrong with Claire."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a long look before Mulder spoke. 
"Are you certain you want to hear this, Grey? Because you haven't 
up till now."

Grey huffed, shrugging off Kristen's hand and pacing several steps 
down the hallway before returning. He ran his fingers through hair 
that appeared to have received the same treatment many times, and 
laughed bitterly. "Did I mention that she was found inside a locked 
house? Lying in her bed, not a single broken seal on the doors and 
windows, the damn crime scene tape intact? 'Course, you already 
know the best part. The Houdini who performed that little magic 
trick also managed to remove part of her brain without leaving a 
single mark on her."

His voice cracked and he ducked his head, throat working 
convulsively. Kristen made an abortive motion to touch him before 
dropping both hands to her sides. When he resumed speaking, 
Grey's voice was very soft.

"I know how this sounds--even I can recognize the irony. I've been 
a bastard ever since you got here, when all you've tried to do is 
help. I've pissed on your theories, Fox, and even now...even now I 
can't completely accept what you believe. He raised his head and 
stared into his brother's eyes, tone hardening. "But I'll do anything
--*anything*--to save that little girl."

Mulder met his gaze without flinching. "So will I, Grey. That's 
why I'm still here."

"Then tell me. Tell me everything."

With another quick glance at Mulder, Scully launched into a 
detailed synopsis of their investigation thus far. Grey's face 
remained impassive until she described Jessica Chapman's return 
and its outcome.

"Dana, are you trying to tell me there's nothing to be done for 
Claire? That her brain will eventually just...self-destruct? Because 
I can't accept that. I won't."

Scully opened her mouth to respond, but Kristen beat her to it. 
"Slow down, Grey. You know they would never give up without a 
fight. Dana's saying they've found a pattern. And that studying the 
pattern, and what happened to those other children, might be the 
key to saving Claire." She looked from Scully to Mulder. "Am I 
right?"

Mulder's eyes filled with gratitude as he tapped his nose with his 
index finger.

Grey's expression softened as he slipped an arm around Kristen's 
shoulders, but the fingers of his other hand still drummed 
nervously against his leg.

"If what you say is true, if Claire's condition is identical to that 
other little girl's, then we don't have time to waste. Mark is with 
forensics at the house. My parents are downstairs getting coffee 
and something to eat for Kira. Help me out here, Dana. There must 
be *something* I can do."

Mulder's prior concern for Scully's exhaustion was reinforced 
when she fumbled for a response. He knew for a fact she'd only 
dozed in the car, and neither of them had consumed more than 
coffee and a few cookies since lunch the day before. 

"There is." He ignored Scully's frown, choosing to focus on his 
brother instead. "Scully has to be the point person for reviewing 
the hospital records of the other children. But she's not going to 
make it through even one chart unless she has a decent meal that 
consists of something more than sugar and caffeine." He cocked a 
challenging eyebrow at her when she began to demur. "Shut up, 
Scully. I've listened to this lecture so often I know it by heart--this 
time it's my turn. Kristen can help you get set up in the conference 
room and Grey and I will get us all something to eat." He 
grimaced. "It's been a long night, and I'm afraid it will be an even 
longer day before it's over."

Scully folded her arms but her gaze warmed him. "It's good to 
know you've been listening, Mulder. I must admit, I've had my 
doubts."

"That's the best you can come up with for me to do?" Grey flashed 
Scully an apologetic grin. "Don't take that the wrong way, darlin', 
you know I'm more than willing to help you. I was just hoping for 
something a little more, I don't know..."

"Manly?" Kristen filled in sweetly.

Grey gave her a wounded look--one Mulder had a sneaking 
suspicion he himself had used many times. 

"C'mon." He tipped his head toward the elevator and started 
walking down the hallway. "If it helps, I'll let you carry 
everything."

"Very funny." Grey took a few steps; hesitated. "Aren't you going 
to ask Dana what she wants?"

Mulder didn't bother turning around. "A cup of yogurt, the closest 
thing that passes for a bran muffin, and coffee--one cream."

Grey's head swiveled back to consult Scully, who imitated 
Mulder's earlier gesture with a tap to the nose. He turned to 
Kristen, who was observing the entire exchange with fascination. 
She shrugged with a sidewise grin at Scully.

"Make it two, I guess."

By the time Grey caught up, Mulder had pressed the button and 
was leaning against the wall, waiting. A strained silence descended 
until the elevator doors rumbled open, discharging Grey's parents 
and two nurses. Mulder accepted a distracted kiss from Grey's 
mom and a handshake from his dad, allowing his brother to field 
their anxious questions about Claire's condition. After a flurry of 
conversation, they headed for the ICU, and Mulder and Grey 
boarded the elevator.

Mulder folded his arms and propped himself against the back wall, 
watching from beneath his lashes as Grey studied the floor 
indicator. His brother's right foot tapped a staccato beat, his fingers 
first opening and then closing into fists.

"You have to stop blaming yourself."

Grey peered over his shoulder with a scowl. "Huh?"

"Nothing you could have done would have helped find Claire any 
sooner, or changed her condition. You haven't failed her, Grey. Or 
the rest of your family, for that matter."

His brother's eyes were wounded, but he lashed out in anger. 
"What the hell would you know about it?"

Mulder tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Me? I 
wrote the book."

A soft chime and the doors slid open. He walked past Grey, who 
seemed stunned into immobility.  Thanks to the graveyard shift, 
the cafeteria was quiet, populated with only a handful of doctors 
and nurses. Plucking an obnoxiously orange plastic tray from the 
stack, Mulder slid it along the track, collecting vanilla yogurt, a 
generic, whole-grain muffin, and an enormous cheese Danish 
oozing enough fat and cholesterol to put Scully in lecture mode.

"Living on the edge, huh?"

Startled, he looked up to find Grey peering over his shoulder at the 
pastry in question. Though a part of Mulder appreciated his 
brother's attempt to reproduce their usual banter, his harsh words in 
the elevator still stung. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grey ignored the rebuff. "So much for the lecture on good 
nutrition. Dana's gonna kick your butt when she sees that invitation 
to a heart attack on your plate."

Mulder sourly jerked a thumb at Grey's tray, where a bagel rested 
beside Kristin's muffin, amused in spite of himself. "Coward."

"Let's just say I know what's good for me."

Mulder sighed and placed the Danish back on the shelf. "All right, 
hand me one of those. But I'm having cream cheese, damn it."

Grey made the switch, expression smug. "Atta boy." 

As Mulder started to fill two large styrofoam cups with coffee, 
Grey cleared his throat. "Fox...about what I said a minute ago. I 
didn't mean it."

Mulder carefully snapped the first lid into place; reached for a 
second. "Forget it."

"No, I..." Grey's hand covered the cup, arresting his movement. "If 
anyone understands, it's you."

The corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Scully says we Mulders 
have a corner on the market for guilt. I've begun to see her point."

Grey dropped his hand and fiddled with his own cups. "Say what 
you will, but in this case a great deal of it is deserved. I never 
should have insisted on running this investigation. I've done 
nothing but spin my wheels." He raised his eyes to Mulder's. "And 
alienate the people closest to me."

Mulder stared at him for a moment, oddly numb despite the words. 
*Too little, too late.* The thought pierced him with a brief pang of 
regret but he brushed it aside. *Things can never be the way they 
were, but at least we can salvage something.* 

"You've done what you thought was right, and you've never had 
anything but Claire's best interests at heart. Let it go, Grey. I have." 

Sensing his brother's dissatisfaction with the response, Mulder put 
an end to the conversation. He transferred Grey's food onto his 
own tray and carried it over to the cashier, letting Uncle Sam pick 
up the tab. They walked back toward the elevator without speaking 
until Grey stopped, eyes narrowed.

"How did you know about Claire's epilepsy, Fox? You promised 
you'd explain."

"Now? I kind of have my hands full." Mulder indicated the tray he 
carried.

Grey silently reached over and took it from him, eyebrows raised. 
"Better?"

"Loads." Mulder tried to gather his thoughts, grateful when the 
elevator arrived empty. "What do you want to hear--what I think, 
or what I know?"

Grey eyed him. "How 'bout starting out with what you know? 
Maybe we can work up to the rest."

"Fine. Jessica Chapman and Claire both suffered from a mild form 
of epilepsy marked by occasional petit mal seizures. The 
symptoms were extremely innocuous, just  'phasing out' for short 
periods of time, a loss of mental acuity. Both girls had outgrown 
the condition about a year before they were abducted."

"Go on."

"An examination of the girls' MRIs shows that in both cases the 
excised brain tissue was from the area that had caused the 
epilepsy."

Grey leaned back against the wall, obviously stunned. "You're sure 
about that?"

"Yes."

The elevator stopped to admit a doctor and an elderly couple. Grey 
and Mulder rode the rest of the way to their floor in silence, though 
Mulder could feel sparks of tension coming off his brother like 
static electricity. As they debarked, he braced himself for the next 
round. Grey didn't disappoint.

"I don't know how this nightmare could get any crazier. Tell me 
the rest. Tell me what you're thinking."

Mulder caught a glimpse of a deserted waiting room from the 
corner of his eye. Reclaiming the food tray, he strode over and set 
it down atop a magazine-littered table, then waved Grey toward a 
chair.

"Sit down."

Grey eased himself onto the hard plastic, making a face. "Great. 
It's that bad, huh?"

Mulder paused in the act of reaching for a chair. "You want to hear 
this or not? Make up your mind, Grey, because I'm tired of taking 
your crap."

Grey blinked, disconcerted. "Sorry."

Mulder pulled over the chair, straddling it with his arms resting 
across the back. Took a deep breath. "I think the medical reports 
on those other kids are going to show that they were epileptic, too, 
just like Jessica and Claire, and that they were returned in the same 
condition. I think that little piece of brain tissue is the common 
denominator, the key to why these kids were taken. I think that 
where we see a group of damaged cells, whoever--*what*ever--took 
those kids sees something entirely different, something of great 
significance." He paused, momentarily forgetting his brother as his 
thoughts turned inward and he followed his own line of reasoning. 
"Something that has them fascinated.or maybe just threatened."

When Grey didn't reply, Mulder pulled himself back from 
contemplation. His brother was staring at him, face pale. Mulder 
sighed, scrubbing at tired eyes with the heels of his hands.

"You asked for it." Weariness turned his voice to a raspy mutter. 
"There it is."

Grey leaned forward, elbows propped on knees. "You think the 
children posed some kind of threat to whoever did this?"

Mulder met his gaze. "I think the brain tissue is important to them. 
Important enough to outweigh the risk involved in getting it."

Grey buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. A touch of 
hysteria colored his soft drawl. "Sweet Jesus, this can't be 
happening. Aliens, spaceships, cosmic brain surgery... It's like 
some kind of bad joke." He looked up at Mulder with shell-
shocked eyes. "But you wanna know the funniest part of all, Fox? 
You're gonna love this... 

"I'm starting to believe you."


Continued in Chapter 13


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (13/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh Community Hospital
Friday
10:04 AM


At first he didn't realize she was asleep.

He'd breezed into the room carrying a fresh stack of faxes in one 
hand and slurping coffee from a cup in the other. Mr. and Mrs. 
McKenzie had ducked out for some fresh air and breakfast, leaving 
Grey and Kristen to sit with Kira until their return. Without their 
presence, the conference room had drifted deeper and deeper into 
silence, the rustle of papers and scratch of pens magnified by the 
stillness. 

Scully was seated at the table, chin cradled in her palm and 
medical records spread out before her like a paper feast. Mulder, 
back from a quick circuit that had included the fax machine, fresh 
coffee, and a check on Claire's condition, rounded the table and 
plopped into a chair, adding the new medical records to a pile near 
her right elbow.

"I think that's about it. Last fax came in..." He caught himself when 
he glimpsed her face. Leaning closer, he used one finger to smooth 
back the spill of hair obscuring it. A faint line between her closed 
eyes gave the impression Scully was puzzling over files even in 
her sleep.

Mulder tucked the hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with the 
pad of his thumb. "Scully."

Despite his care she awoke with a start, pen skittering across the 
table as she reached for her watch. "What time is it?"

He couldn't help smiling, despite his concern. "A little after ten. 
You just drifted off for a few minutes."

She blinked, then stretched, rolling her head from side to side with 
a little groan. "My eyes are beginning to cross. When we finish this 
case I never want to see another MRI again." She perused his 
hands, expression hopeful. "Coffee?"

Mulder handed her the cup with a flourish. "I got one extra large 
cup. Figured we could share."

She somehow managed to communicate disapproval while 
practically chugging the contents. "Mulder, do you have any idea 
how many germs there are in the human mouth?"

"Baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me, but now isn't the right 
time."

She rolled her eyes but didn't surrender the cup. 

Mulder slithered down in the chair until he could rest his head on 
the back, long legs stretched out beneath the table and butt 
precariously hanging off the seat. He stared up at the ceiling. "Sum 
it up for me, Scully. What have we got so far?"

She picked up her glasses and slipped them on, peering at her 
notes. "We've received medical records for seven of the ten 
children abducted six months ago. Nine of the fourteen abducted 
three days ago have been found. We have preliminary records for 
six of them."

"And what are the records telling us, Doctor Scully?"

"You should know--you've been reading over my shoulder the 
whole time."

"Humor me."

She sucked in a deep breath; let it out slowly. "All the children 
suffered from a mild form of epilepsy which they appeared to have 
outgrown within a year prior to being abducted. In every case, the 
damaged cells that caused the epilepsy were located on the cerebral 
cortex near the parietal lobe. And in every case, that same section 
of tissue was missing when the children were returned--" she shut 
the folder in front of her--"comatose."

"No incisions," Mulder said quietly. "No scars."

"No damage of any kind. Mulder, the removal of that tissue, as 
horrifying as it may seem, could not be responsible for the massive 
amount of electroconductivity we're seeing in the childrens' brains. 
It doesn't make sense."

Mulder sat up, running his hand over his stubbled jaw. "I have an 
idea about that."

A twinkle lit Scully's tired eyes. "I'll bet you do."

He made a face but continued. "Something was used to extract the 
brain tissue from these kids, Scully. An instrument far beyond the 
scope of our understanding--beyond the understanding of any 
physician on this planet."

"You think the instrument itself caused their condition?"

"I think an instrument designed with alien technology is bound to 
have some nasty side effects on a human brain."

 Scully nodded, expression pensive. "So even though it excises the 
tissue with a minimum of physical trauma, it severely disrupts the 
electroconductivity across the cerebral cortex."

"Exactly."

"Which still leaves the million dollar question unanswered."

"Why they want the tissue in the first place."

"Exactly."

Mulder stood and began pacing. "I've been thinking about that, too. 
Why would a seemingly harmless collection of cells be of interest 
to beings so technologically superior to us? Is it valuable to them? 
A threat?"

Scully frowned. "Wait a minute, Mulder. When did these kids stop 
being alien guinea pigs and start being a threat?"

"The stakes have changed, Scully. These children aren't random 
test subjects destined for a life as multiple abductees. They're 
targeted specifically for that one small area of their brain that sets 
them apart from the rest of us. A clump of cells that is then 
brutally, efficiently ripped from them without regard to the 
consequences."

"What you're saying might make an odd kind of sense but for the 
fact that those cells are useless, Mulder. Worse than useless. 
They're damaged tissue that caused the children's brains to 
malfunction--until they eventually adapted."

Mulder jerked to a stop, staring at her intently. "Adapted?"

"So to speak. As a psychologist, I know you're aware that we 
actually utilize a very small percentage of our total brain cells. In 
mild cases such as these children had, the brain sometimes 
manages to adapt, bypassing the damaged area. Almost as if it 
rewires itself."

"Or evolves." Mulder muttered the words to himself.

"What?"

"Scully, suppose that tissue isn't just a collection of bad cells. What 
if it's some kind of...switch, that hasn't been flipped yet."

"You've lost me."

"You said the kids didn't experience the muscle spasms and loss of 
bodily control characteristic of a full blown seizure, correct? That 
they'd simply phase out for a short time, lose touch with their 
surroundings."

"Put simply, yes."

Mulder sucked in his bottom lip, hand drifting up to touch the back 
of his head. "Almost like they're tuned into something else. Sounds 
familiar, doesn't it?"

Scully sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you suggesting that the 
children's seizures were actually episodes similar to what you 
experienced after exposure to the artifact?" She shook her head. 
"Mulder that's an awfully big leap, even for you."

"Scully, *you're* the one who made the connection." Seeing her 
perplexed expression, he continued. "You were the one to point out 
that the so-called 'brain storm' we've seen in the returned children 
is similar in nature to the brain activity I experienced at that time."

"True, but that hardly--"

"Bear with me for a minute. What if this thing we're seeing, this 
small area of the brain, is a kind of.precursor to what we saw in 
Gibson Praise?"

"The ability to read minds?"

"And to communicate with the aliens themselves." 

Scully shook her head. "But this is very different from Gibson, 
Mulder. We're talking about one small section of the brain; all of 
Gibson's cells were affected."

"Maybe this is just the beginning, one of the first baby steps on the 
evolutionary scale..." Mulder returned to his chair in three quick 
strides, a light growing inside him. "We know there are different 
alien factions, Scully, and that one of them was against anything 
that might result in a pollution of their race. Removing the brain 
tissue now could interrupt the evolutionary process, halting the 
development of more human beings with Gibson's abilities."

Scully stared at him for a long moment before letting her head drop 
onto the seatback with a soft groan. "I need a shower and about 48 
hours of sleep. Mulder, only you could make a connection between 
epilepsy and... Oh my God." Her head popped up and for a 
moment Mulder got the distinct impression she was looking not at 
him, but through him.

"What is it?"

She licked her lips. "Max Fenig. He assumed he was an epileptic 
because of something done to him during one of his abductions. 
But Mulder...what if that was WHY he was abducted?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "That's an awfully big 
leap, Agent Scully."

"Why should you have all the fun?" She sighed, shoulders curling 
inward. "This is all well and good, Mulder, but it doesn't solve the 
problem at hand."

"Curing Claire."

Scully nodded, gesturing to the piles of faxes. "I've been through 
these records with a fine-toothed comb. A variety of treatments 
have been employed to restore normal brain function--some 
creative, some practically incompetent. Nothing has had the 
slightest effect on the child's condition." She pulled off her glasses 
and rubbed her eyes. "Mulder, time's running out. And I haven't the 
faintest idea how to help that little girl."

"Guess that answers my question."

They both turned, startled. Grey stood in the doorway, his 
expression unreadable. He walked slowly over to sit on the edge of 
the heavy oak table. Up close, Mulder could see how hard his 
brother was working to maintain control.

"Claire is having trouble breathing. They just put her on a 
ventilator. Mom and Dad are on their way back."

Mulder glanced over his brother's shoulder. "Kristen?"

"She's staying with Kira until they get here. I wanted to come and 
get Dana, thought maybe she could talk to the doctor."

Mulder looked over at Scully; saw the shine of tears before her 
eyes slipped shut.

"I'm so sorry, Grey." The tears colored her voice, as well. "I've 
looked through every test result, every piece of documentation, and 
I just can't see..."

Mulder reached for her, but Grey's hand was there first, tucking her 
tangled hair behind her ear with great tenderness. "You don't have 
to tell me, darlin'. I have eyes." He dropped his hand and it curled 
to a fist in his lap. "Maybe I've been a stubborn fool on this case, 
but I'd have to be blind not to see how hard you and Fox have tried 
to help Claire." He bit his lip and looked away. "Even I can't 
expect you to work miracles."

"We haven't given up. As long as Claire is still alive, there's still 
hope." Mulder said the words with more assurance than he felt, 
wishing he could will them into being. 

Grey's smile touched only his mouth. "I wouldn't expect anything 
less from you, little brother. But I can't help facing facts. Kira's 
facing them, too. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at Claire." 
He ran a hand down his face, eyelashes fluttering. "Maybe it's best 
she be prepared."

Mulder shoved back his chair and lurched to his feet, heart 
thudding. "I refuse to accept that. There has to be something more 
we can do, something right in front of us, maybe, that we're just 
not seeing." He put a hand on Scully's shoulder, squeezing gently. 
"The answers are there. We just have to know where to look for 
them."

She gazed up at him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips, then 
turned to Grey. "I'll be glad to talk to Dr. Hsu. Then I think we'd 
better make some calls and see how the other children are doing. 
There's always the chance one of their doctors has come up with 
something new."

Grey stood, offering her a hand up as she gingerly stretched 
muscles cramped from inactivity. "Thank you. At the very least 
you can translate the medical speak for the rest of us. Dr. Hsu may 
be a gifted neurologist, but..."

"His bedside manner could use some work," Scully finished dryly. 
"I'm all too familiar with the type."

They reached the doorway, nearly colliding with Kristen as she 
rounded the corner from the hallway, clearly agitated. 

"Easy, sweetheart." Grey steadied her, peering more closely at her 
face. "Is Claire all right? Are my parents here?"

"Claire's okay, but I think you'd better come quickly."

"What's wrong?"

"You know the officer you stationed outside the ICU, just in case?" 
When Grey nodded, Kristen continued. "He's holding some guy 
who's demanding to see Claire. Say's he's her father."


Continued in Chapter 14


Blood Ties 11: Evolution (14/16)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Intensive Care Unit
Friday
11:32 AM


"You have no right to keep my from seeing my own child! Now, 
either use that gun or get the hell out of my way."

Steve Talbot's voice echoed down the corridor, belligerent and 
crackling with fury. They turned the corner and found themselves 
immersed in barely contained chaos. A uniformed cop stood in 
front of the ICU doors, arms folded and face impassive as he 
absorbed the brunt of Talbot's righteous indignation. Dr. Hsu 
cowered in the cop's shadow, clearly unsure what to make of the 
man, while a several nurses hovered nearby.

Grey quickened his stride, reaching Talbot just as he appeared 
ready to give the officer a shove. "Back off, Steve. Officer Larkin 
is just doing his job. Which, it so happens, is protecting your 
daughter."

Steve whirled and directed his fury toward Grey. "I'm her father, 
for God's sake. Claire doesn't need to be protected from *me*."

Larkin, a blond cop in his early thirties, scowled up at Grey. "Sorry 
for the commotion, Detective. I tried to explain to this guy"--he 
cocked a thumb at Talbot's chest--"that access to the little girl is 
restricted, but he was too bullheaded to listen."

"Thanks, Pete. I'll handle it from here." Grey gave the man a slap 
on the back with a smile that disappeared when he turned to 
Talbot. "Follow me."

"You might have had the decency to call, let me know Claire had 
been found." Talbot shouldered Mulder out of the way and caught 
up to Grey as they passed through the doors to the ICU. 

"I've been busy." Grey growled the words through gritted teeth. 
"Evidently you figured it out."

"I tried to track Kira down at the station to see if you'd made 
progress. Somebody there told me what had happened." Talbot 
seized Grey's arm, stopping him. "Don't jerk me around, Grey. 
How is she?"

Grey glared at the restraining hand, lips parted to deliver a sharp 
retort. And then he seemed to really look into Talbot's eyes. After a 
moment's hesitation, he silently tipped his head toward the large 
glass window that looked into the ICU. Claire lay in the nearest 
cubicle, surrounded by tubes and wires, small chest rising and 
falling with mechanical precision as the ventilator breathed for her.

All the color drained from Talbot's face, and he swayed on his feet. 
"Oh my God. What's happened to her?"

Grey shook his head, gaze riveted on his niece. "We...we're not 
sure."

"Not sure?" Two quick steps and Talbot had buried his fists in 
Grey's shirt, dragging him forward until their faces were a hair's 
breadth apart. "What do you mean you're not sure? Three days ago 
that was a normal, healthy little girl! Who did this to her? What in 
the hell have you been doing about it?"

Mulder grabbed the distraught man by the collar of his shirt and 
dragged him off his brother. "Come on. What do you think he's 
been doing--sitting around twiddling his thumbs? He loves her 
too."

Talbot struggled, fighting to break Mulder's hold. No one noticed 
Kira stand up and hurry out of the cubicle.

"Steve? Steve, what's going on?"

At the sound of her voice, Talbot went limp. Mulder released him 
with a little shove and he stumbled toward her. "Kira, I'm sorry, I 
just wanted to..." The words trailed off to a whisper as his gaze 
returned to Claire. "What's wrong with her?"

Kira turned swollen, red-rimmed eyes onto Grey, her expression 
almost apologetic as she took Talbot's hand. "Come on in. I'll 
explain as best as I can."

Talbot spoke in hushed tones as he allowed her to lead him into the 
cubicle, meek as a child. "Can she hear us?" 

A core of steel lurked beneath Kira's weary reply. "The doctor says 
no, but I don't believe him."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a long look--she recalling hazy 
dream images of a rowboat on a solitary lake, he remembering an 
endless night of rambling monologues and the whisper of nurses' 
shoes. He brushed his hand down the length of her arm until their 
fingers were touching though not entwined, his voice pitched for 
her ears alone. "Neither do I."

"Grey. Let it go." 

Kristen's calming words pulled them back to the situation at hand. 
Grey was glaring through the glass, jaw and fists clenched, as 
Talbot took a weeping Kira into his arms. 

"Son of a bitch. I ought to..."

"But you won't." Kristen softened the hard edge to her voice with a 
hand on his arm.

Grey bristled. "You don't understand, Kris. You weren't around 
back then, you didn't see--"

"Then. Not now." Kristen stepped between him and the window, 
forcing him to see her. "This isn't about what *you* need, Grey; it's 
about what *Kira* needs. She's a big girl; she can decide for herself. 
Let it go."

Grey laced his arms across his chest. "Easy for you to say."

Kristen shook her head with a bitter little laugh. "With the mood 
you've been in? You really think so?"

It  pulled Grey up short. He let out a long, gusty sigh and reached 
over to brush a lock of hair off her shoulder. They stared into each 
other's eyes, his lips slowly curving into a faint smile.

"No. I think it's a job I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"Amen."

Mulder grunted as Scully elbowed him in the ribs but the gibe 
lifted the tension. The ICU doors swung open, admitting Dr. Hsu 
and Grey's parents. Grey turned hesitantly toward Scully.

"Dana, would you mind...?"

"Of course not."

"Kristen and I will wait right here." Mulder's gesture encompassed 
the cubicle where Kira and Talbot were now seated beside Claire's 
bed. 

Grey nodded, understanding the subtext. "Thank you."

Silence descended once Grey and Scully had moved off to speak to 
the doctor. Mulder focused on a nurse as she moved about Claire, 
checking her vitals and jotting equipment readouts onto the chart. 
His relationship with Kristen until now had been cordial but 
superficial--unlike Scully, who had formed a close bond with the 
agent while he and Grey were on the camping trip from hell. 
Despite better intentions, the current strain in his relationship with 
his brother left him uncomfortable in Kristen's presence.

"He's really broken up over what's happened between you."

It took a moment for Kristen's soft voice to penetrate his thoughts. 
Mulder darted a sharp glance at her face before forcing his 
attention back to Claire. He hoped his silence would convince her 
to let the matter drop. Too late, he recalled Grey's descriptions of 
her tenacity.

"He's afraid you've decided to shut him out of your life.  That 
you've made up your mind, and nothing he can say or do now is 
going to change it."

His answer sounded wooden, even to his own ears. "A little 
distance can be a good thing. He'll come to see that, eventually."

"He already has."

It pierced his defenses, tearing him in places already raw from 
Grey's rejection. He'd sucked in an involuntary gasp before he 
could reassemble a passive mask.

"At least we can agree on that much."

Pulling the same trick she had on his brother, Kristen stepped 
between Mulder and the glass. He was stunned to see fury in her 
green eyes. "He thinks it's good for *you*, Mulder. Not for himself." 
Ignoring his poleaxed expression, she plowed on.

"He knows he's hurt you--badly. And he doesn't want to be 
responsible for inflicting that kind of pain again." She reached out 
a tentative hand to touch his arm. "You can put things back where 
they belong. It's not too late."

A headache began to build behind his right eye, fueled by fatigue 
and emotion too long repressed. Mulder massaged the bridge of his 
nose, desperately wishing he'd tagged along with Scully and Grey.

"There's too much you don't know, Kristen." He met her gaze 
squarely, anger beginning to eclipse the pain. "Too much you 
could never understand."

Her own temper flared. "I understand more than you think. I fought 
with my father before school one morning, Mulder, a real knock 
down, drag out. Stomped out of the house swearing I'd never speak 
to him again." Her eyes fluttered shut; she shook her head. "I never 
dreamed a car accident would prove me right." When she opened 
her eyes, the anger had turned to deep sorrow. "Not a day goes by 
that I don't wish I could make things right."

Mulder shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry about your father, but--"

"This is different. Sure." She sighed and stepped away, freeing him 
to return to his vigil. "Look, I know you and Grey have history, 
Mulder. You spent the first three decades of your lives without 
each other, I guess you can spend the next three the same way." 
She chuffed a humorless laugh. "What I can't figure out is why 
you'd *want* to." When he didn't respond, she sighed again. "I'm 
going to get a drink of water. Tell Grey-- Never mind, I'll tell him 
myself."

Mulder listened to her footsteps, the slap of rubber on linoleum, as 
he stared sightlessly at Claire's still face. The hollow, gnawing 
ache in his gut, no longer assuaged by files and theories, welled up 
like bitter acid in the back of his throat. *Put things back where they 
belong.* His breath caught raggedly in his chest, a sound 
somewhere between a laugh and a sob. If she only knew how much 
he wished he could.

There was a time when he'd grown so accustomed to rolled eyes 
and veiled insults that he barely registered them. Chalk it up to the 
wildly inaccurate rumor mill, professional jealousy, even simple 
inability to think outside the box--why he'd fallen from golden boy 
to monster boy really didn't matter. He believed in what he was 
doing, the importance of the work, and he'd convinced himself that 
was enough.

Then came Special Agent Dana Scully, forensic pathologist and 
would-be Consortium tool. He'd expected her to be beautiful and 
sexy--his weakness for pretty women wasn't exactly a well-kept 
secret. He'd suspected she would be brilliant--her thesis was damn 
impressive, and besides, his enemies were wise enough to realize 
that anyone less than his intellectual equal would never last the 
week.  

What had knocked him on his ass, the one thing he--and they--
never could have predicted, was her respect. 

He'd had to earn it, of course. Dana Scully never gave away 
anything for free. She'd indulged in her share of rolled eyes and 
incredulous laughter. But she'd listened, really listened, to his 
crazy, off-the-wall theories--challenging, debating, refuting. And 
the work had benefited.

That she'd given him her love as well as her respect was a precious 
gift he was still learning to accept.

He hadn't realized the addictive nature of that one-two punch until 
the last disastrous few days. That Grey seemed able to give him the 
one but not the other was a bitter pill to swallow. Five years ago 
he'd have taken what his brother had to give, grateful and 
unquestioning. But loving Scully had changed him, shown him he 
deserved more. Settling for less felt worse than just going through 
the motions. It felt like a lie.

Unpalatable for a man who'd dedicated his life to the truth.

"Hey." 

Scully's warm fingers encircled his wrist, causing him to 
practically leap from his skin. He looked down into worried blue 
eyes and a furrowed brow, reactions to whatever she saw in his 
face. Consciously slowing his breathing, he sent her an apologetic 
grimace. She studied him for a moment longer, then, with a quick 
glance over her shoulder, took his hand and tugged him down the 
hallway. 

"Mulder, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." A raised eyebrow and pursed lips prompted him to 
qualify the statement. "Nothing new, anyway."

She conceded the point but not the match. "Kristen seemed upset."

He sighed through clenched teeth. "Kristen has developed a Bob 
Vila complex." At Scully's mystified look he added, "She wants to 
fix everything."

"Ah." Scully pressed gentle fingers to the flesh above his right eye. 
"Headache?"

Mulder blinked. "Mindreader?"

Her mouth quirked, though the concern lingered in her eyes. "You 
squint a little. Dead giveaway."

"I'll have to remember that."

Scully trailed her fingers back through his hair before lowering her 
hand. "She's not the only one, you know, Mulder?"

He had to replay the conversation to pick up her thread. Despite his 
inner turmoil he felt more amusement than annoyance. "Yeah, I 
know. She's just not as subtle."

"Let's head back to the conference room. I can fill you in on 
Claire's condition while I hunt for some aspirin in my briefcase."

She'd barely finished speaking when pandemonium broke loose in 
the cubicle behind them. Two nurses wheeled a crash cart to the 
bedside of a middle-aged man whose heart monitor was emitting 
the shrill beep and erratic green line signaling cardiac arrhythmia. 
Within seconds a doctor rushed onto the scene and began directing 
the ordered chaos while a white-faced woman stood to one side, 
tears running down her face.

Mulder watched as the nurses stripped off the hospital gown, 
clearing the way for the doctor to apply defibrillator paddles to the 
patient's chest. The man's upper body arced off the mattress from 
the jolt of electric current, wringing an audible sob from the 
woman. Still, the monitor shrieked its warning and the green line 
jittered and jumped.

"Mulder?"

Scully had taken several steps down the hallway before realizing 
she'd left him behind. She frowned, irritated by his apparent 
distraction.

"Mulder, let's go. We..."

He dimly acknowledged the drone of Scully's voice as some kind 
of drug was injected and the paddles applied a third time. The 
green line stuttered for a moment longer, then settled into steady, 
rhythmic spikes. Mulder turned away from the flurry of smiles, 
tears, and congratulations, his own heart hammering as if it might 
burst.

"Mulder?" Fear, rather than annoyance, now sharpened Scully's 
question.

He waved her aside, tuning out all external distractions as he 
latched onto an idea so big, and yet so incredibly simple, it seemed 
too good to be true.

Could it work? 

What did they have to lose?

"Mulder! What is it, what's going on?"

He slowly raised wide eyes to her face. "I think I've figured it out, 
Scully. I think I know how to save Claire."


Continued in Chapter 15

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (15/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh Community Hospital
Friday
3:26 PM


"You wanna run that by one more time?" Grey's soft drawl 
verbalized the incredulity mirrored on every face in the room. 
"You're suggesting we *what*?"

An unwelcome sense of deja vu washed over Mulder. Combined 
with an excess of fatigue and lack of decent food, it left him off 
balance and disoriented. For a moment he was back in the BSU, a 
rookie profiler pitching theories that whizzed like fastballs over the 
senior agents' heads. 

He blinked, shaking off the images and focusing on Grey. "You 
heard me."

"What we've heard is sheer nonsense. " Dr. Hsu stood just inside 
the doorway, having refused a seat at the large conference table. 
"Worse than nonsense--it's dangerous. Embarking upon such a 
course of action would be criminally negligent." He transferred his 
glare from Mulder to Kira. "Agent Mulder has no medical 
expertise, just a wild theory. You can't seriously be considering 
such a crazy, unconventional--"

"*Doctor* Mulder is an Oxford trained psychologist." Scully spared 
Hsu only a passing glance, addressing herself to those at the table. 
"He has more than a passing acquaintance with ECT and its impact 
on brain function. I suggest we hear him out."

This from the woman who had argued vehemently with him when 
he'd first shared his epiphany. That she would back him up, despite 
her own reservations, lifted Mulder's flagging spirits. He tipped his 
chin in a subtle gesture of gratitude before continuing.

"Yes, it's unconventional. So is Claire's condition. And frankly, 
after studying the medical records I can say without qualification 
that conventional methods have yielded nothing but dead children 
so far."

"I know the drugs haven't worked." Kira's voice trembled but she 
sat up straight in her chair, grimly holding on to her composure. 
"But she's still alive; she's still fighting. To take such an enormous 
risk... The treatment could kill her."

"Damn straight." Talbot pulled his hand from Kira's and leaned 
across the table. "Dr. Hsu is right; what you're suggesting is crazy. 
I'm not going to let you try to jump-start my little girl's brain like 
some kind of dead battery."

"What you're gonna do is sit back and keep your mouth shut." 
Grey's voice was excruciatingly calm. Dangerous. 

Talbot rounded on him. "Like hell I will! I'm her father, Grey. I 
have the right--"

"You lost any rights to Claire when you walked out five years ago. 
I let you sit in on this meeting as a favor to Kira, but so help me 
God--"

"Stop it! Both of you!" Scully's command silenced them. She 
glared at Talbot, then Grey. "It's time you two stop this senseless 
bickering and start thinking about Kira and Claire." When both 
men looked sufficiently chastised, she nodded for Mulder to 
continue.

"Your jumper cable analogy, however graphic, is inaccurate." He 
directed his words to Talbot with as much patience as he could 
muster. "Claire's brain is not dead--just the opposite. It's 
functioning at a level impossible to sustain. We can wait for the 
inevitable burn out. Or, we can intervene."

"By pumping electricity into her brain." No longer confrontational, 
Steve's reply held sullen disbelief.

"By using electricity to re-establish a normal pattern of 
electroconductivity across the cerebral cortex. Unconventional, 
yes. Risky, certainly. But perhaps the only hope for reversing 
Claire's condition."

Hsu grunted derisively. "I'm telling you now, I want no part of 
this...this madness. If you choose to pursue this course of action, 
you will do so without my participation." A piercing look at Kira, a 
scowl for Mulder, then Hsu turned on his heel and left.

Mulder waited a beat before continuing. "Fortunately, we don't 
require Dr. Hsu's cooperation. Scully and I have already talked to 
Dr. Pratt, who heads up the psychiatric wing. We've shown him 
Claire's chart, as well as the records for the other kids. Despite his 
own reservations, he's agreed to perform the procedure."

Grey lifted an eyebrow. "He has?"

Scully glanced at Mulder with pursed lips before replying. "So 
long as we provide a signed consent form exempting him from all 
liability."

Mulder leaned back in his chair, palms up. "It's up to you now, 
Kira. Only you can decide how we proceed."

Kira bit her lip, eyes welling with tears. "I'm holding my baby's life 
in the palm of my hand. One word from me could determine 
whether she lives or dies. No mother should be forced to make 
such a decision."

Scully's voice was very, very soft. "Perhaps not, Kira. But then 
again, that kind of decision is the very essence of motherhood." 
Mulder looked at her sharply but she refused to meet his gaze. 

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Kira shook her head and 
scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Fox. I know you 
mean well and that you truly believe this will work, but it's damn 
unorthodox and just plain dangerous. If Claire died from the 
procedure I'd never forgive myself." Her voice broke. "Or you. I 
have to get back to Claire; my parents will wonder what's keeping 
me." She shoved back her chair and practically fled from the room.

Talbot stood more slowly. "Maybe you do mean well, Agent 
Mulder. But I'd feel lot better if you stayed away from my 
daughter."

No one spoke for several minutes after Talbot's exit. Mulder rose 
and paced the length of the room, hand cupping the back of his 
neck. Eyes moving back and forth, Scully watched him, her 
expression a mixture of empathy and apprehension. Grey stared at 
the tabletop, tracing invisible patterns with his fingertip. And 
Kristen stared at Grey.

Grey finally looked up at his brother. "Kira's just trying to do 
what's best for Claire, Fox. It's a pretty radical idea; I don't think 
she was ready for it. Don't take it personally."

Mulder laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Personally? Nah. This 
is Spooky you're talking to--remember?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with--"

"The hell it doesn't!" Mulder slammed his palm against the 
tabletop, startling Grey to silence.

"Mulder..."

He rounded on Scully, past caring where he directed the anger and 
frustration. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to see...to 
*know* things that other people can only begin to understand. I'm 
sick of shouting out the truth like a damn prophet only to have it 
fall on deaf ears, or worse..." He trailed off, the fire in his eyes 
dying as he turned back to his brother. "To see that look. The one 
somewhere between pity and contempt. God, I'm tired of that 
look." He drew one hand down his face, shaking his head. "I have 
to get out of here. I need some fresh air."

Scully was by his side before he'd taken three steps, one hand on 
his arm. "I'm coming with you."

Mulder frowned. "Look, Scully, I..."

She folded her arms; raised an eyebrow. Mulder sucked in a deep 
breath and let it out with a resigned huff. His hand settled 
comfortably in the middle of her back and he guided her toward 
the door.

"After you."

Grey braced his folded arms on the table, dropping his head onto 
them. After several minutes passed he felt gentle fingers at the 
nape of his neck, sifting through tension-damp curls.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on inside that complicated 
brain?"

He moaned a muffled laugh. "I want a do-over."

Bafflement colored Kristen's response. "What?"

Grey lifted his head. "A do-over. It was a game rule we had when 
we were kids. If the dice fell off the table when you rolled them, if 
you served the ball and it landed on the line--then you got a do-
over. A second chance to get it right."

Kristen's lips curved and she stroked a lock of hair back from his 
brow. "If only life worked that way."

The tenderness, at a moment it felt least deserved, did him in. Grey 
closed his eyes against the burn of tears. "I've made a hell of a 
mess of things, Kris."

"You've made some mistakes. Nothing that can't be fixed."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Believe it." When Grey opened his eyes and fixed her with a 
questioning stare, she explained. "I talked to Fox this morning."

"About...?"

"About the trouble between you two. About your fear that he's 
shutting you out of his life."

Grey's eyebrows drew together. "What's happened between me and 
Fox is just that, Kristen--between me and Fox. It has nothing to do 
with you."

"You're wrong. It has everything to do with me. For three days I've 
listened to your heart break over this rift between you. I love you, 
damn it! Do you honestly expect me to sit by and do nothing? 
Would you?"

Grey winced. "I see your point." He searched her face. "What did 
he have to say?"

She made a face. "Not much. He fed me a line about the benefits of 
a little distance. Not too convincing, really, since it was obvious he 
didn't believe it himself."

Grey swore under his breath. "He must be the most stubborn, 
pigheaded..." Kristen's pursed lips stopped him. "What?"

"Oh, please. You two are poster boys for the expression 'it takes 
one to know one.'"

Grey tried to feel outraged; gave up. "The point is, he's made up 
his mind. He's constructing walls thicker than Fort Knox."

Kristen leaned in, her voice turning to stone. "The point is, you 
have to change his mind; it will never come from him. He's been 
hurt too many times in his life not to have developed some 
impressive coping mechanisms--namely, making sure you don't get 
close enough to repeat the job."

Grey's eyebrows soared. "Since when did you become an authority 
on my brother? You barely know him."

She snorted. "Since Dana and I spent two days pulling your butts 
out of the fire after that little camping excursion you took last fall. 
Guess we've become closer friends than either of you realizes."

"Obviously." Grey ran his fingers through his hair. "The hell of it 
is that he's been right from the start. It's all gone down the way he 
said it would--Claire's disappearance, the way she was returned, 
even her current condition. Crazy as his ECT theory may be, deep 
down I believe he's really onto something. And yet, even now, I 
can hardly bring myself to admit it."

"Are you saying you think Kira should have tried the ECT?"

"I'm saying I think it makes a helluva lot more sense than pumping 
her full of drugs. Or sitting around and waiting for her to die." 
Surprise colored his voice. "Yeah. I guess I am." He searched her 
face. "Kris, do you believe in aliens?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "I don't know. But your brother 
does. And I've heard enough around the Bureau to understand that 
at least 90 percent of the talk surrounding him is fueled by pure 
jealousy. He's not a fool, Grey. Just a guy who doesn't give a damn 
about what most people think." She ran the backs of her fingers 
down his cheek. "Of course, you and Dana aren't most people."

"Dana told me he believes I don't respect him." Grey chuffed and 
shook his head. "Can't say I blame him, considering the shitty way 
I've treated him. But he's wrong, Kris. I'm proud as hell to be his 
brother."

"Then you need to show him. Words aren't going to get the job 
done."

Grey propped his elbows on his knees and cradled his face in his 
hands. "Sure. Simple. Except how in the hell am I supposed to 
accomplish that?" 

Kristen's hand returned to rest on the nape of his neck but she 
remained silent. He let his eyes close but was unable to shut out the 
memory of his brother's agonized expression, his earlier words to 
Kristen echoing in his head. *The hell of it is that he's been right 
from the start. It's all gone down the way he said it would--*

He dropped his hands and bolted upright, eyes wide.

Startled, Kristen instinctively recoiled. "Grey?"

"I know." Hope kindled inside him, making his heart beat faster. 
"Kris, I *know* what I have to do."

"What?"

He stood, reaching down to tug her to her feet. "Let's go. I have to 
talk to Kira. Right away."


Continued in Chapter 16

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (16/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Hospital Cafeteria
Friday
5:39 PM


He hadn't said a word for at least fifteen minutes.

Scully wrapped her hands around the mug of hot tea, icy fingers 
gratefully absorbing the warmth, and surreptitiously observed the 
taciturn figure across the table. By the time she'd coaxed Mulder 
back into the building, he'd been shivering uncontrollably and her 
toes had turned numb. A trip to the cafeteria for a hot drink had 
driven the chill from their bodies. Mulder's spirits, however, had 
yet to thaw.

Her lips tightened as she took in the dark circles under his eyes and 
the uneaten sandwich on his plate. In just 72 hours, a week's worth 
of rest and relaxation had been undone. He'd poured his heart and 
soul into this case, done everything in his power for Grey, Kira, 
and Claire. His investigative work had been top notch, his 
deductive leaps eerily accurate, yet in the end it made little 
difference. For Mulder, this case could only be about another 
shattered relationship he couldn't repair and another little girl he 
couldn't save.

Frohike's call, informing them that one of the other children had 
died, seemed to have quenched the dying sparks of Mulder's hope. 
He hadn't spoken since.

Scully reached across the table, curling her fingers around his 
wrist. "Mulder--"

"I can't, Scully." When she raised her eyebrows, he jerked a thumb 
at the sandwich. "I can't eat that. Right now I can't eat anything. 
Please don't push, all right?"

"And you call *me* a mindreader?"

A weak smile tugged at his lips. "You've been taking turns 
scowling at me and that plate for the last ten minutes. Knowing 
what you're thinking hardly qualifies as mindreading."

"You've barely eaten all day."

He folded over the table, pressing his forehead to the hand clasping 
his wrist. "Probably for the best, considering."

She sighed, bringing her other hand up to stroke his hair. "You 
can't take this on, Mulder. You did everything Grey could have 
asked, and more."

He looked up at her, cheek nestled against the back of her hand. 
"Claire is going to die, Scully. Whatever good I may have done--it 
wasn't enough." He closed his eyes, but not before she glimpsed 
the shine of tears. "I wish the last three days had never happened, 
Scully. I wish to God I could erase them and just start over."

She could barely speak past the ache in her throat. "We haven't 
seen the end of this yet. Give Kira a little time to think things 
through. She's exhausted and half out of her mind with worry."

Pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he sat up straight. "I said I'd see 
this through to the end, and I will. But I can't lie to you, babe. I just 
want to go home." He slid her empty plate beneath his and slipped 
them onto the tray. "Be right back."

Scully watched him dump their trash in the nearest receptacle, then 
trudge across the cafeteria to return the empty tray. Distracted by 
the slump of his shoulders and her own morose thoughts, the light 
touch to her shoulder drove the air from her lungs in a startled 
whoosh.

"Dana?"

She spun and lurched to her feet, one hand automatically reaching 
for her weapon until she saw who stood behind her.

"Kira. I didn't hear you come up."

"Sorry." Kira's red-rimmed eyes left Scully's face and scanned the 
table. "Where's Fox?"

"He'll be right back. Can I get you something to eat? Some hot 
tea?"

Kira shook her head, not even bothering with the pretense of a 
smile. "No, thank you. I just really need to talk to Fox."

"I'm here." Mulder sent Scully an inquiring look as he detoured 
around the table to stand at her side. She responded with the slight 
lift of one shoulder.

"Fox, I need to talk to you, I..." Kira studied his face, her fingers 
twisting and knotting together. "...I know I kind of ran out on you, 
before, and I didn't want to give you the impression... I'm so 
grateful for everything you've done to help Claire. If I was less 
than...receptive to your suggestion, it's certainly not because I 
think...because I *don't*..."

"Kira." Mulder put his hand over hers, stilling them. "It's all right. 
You don't have to apologize. You're Claire's mother. You have 
every right to decide--"

"Please. Let me finish." She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. 
"I'm not like you, Fox. I believe in what I can see, what I can hold 
in my hand. Taking a leap of faith has never been my strong suit--I 
have a hard time believing in God, let alone aliens. But even I can 
see that whatever happened to Claire defies rational explanation. 
And I think that if anyone can make sense of such a completely 
senseless situation, maybe it's you." Her fingers clamped down on 
his in a bruising grip and her voice trembled with emotion. 
"You've been right about so many things up till now. I just...I have 
to trust you're right about this, too."

Mulder went very still. "What are you saying, Kira?"

She dropped his hand and stepped back, struggling to maintain her 
composure. "I've decided to have Claire undergo the ECT. I've 
already spoken to Dr. Pratt. They're going to be moving Claire up 
to the fifth floor within the next hour." She turned her gaze from 
Mulder to Scully. "He'd like you both to be there."

"Of course." Seeing Mulder was still struggling to assimilate Kira's 
news, Scully gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll be right up."

"Thank you. I'd better get back. Steve's...having a little trouble 
accepting all this."

She turned to leave, but Mulder caught her elbow. "Kira, wait." 
When she faced him once more, he released her. "I'm just 
wondering... What changed your mind?"

A wry expression crinkled the corners of her eyes. "There's no 
mystery there, Fox. My big brother can be very convincing when 
he believes he's right."

She turned and walked back toward the elevators, oblivious to the 
stunned disbelief she'd put on his face.


Waiting room
7:12 PM


Mulder found his eyes straying to the wall clock for the third time 
in ten minutes. Nearly half an hour had passed since Claire, Kira, 
and Scully had disappeared behind the double doors to the 
psychiatric wing. Time seemed to have slowed to a snail's pace, 
every tick of the clock fueling his rising anxiety and impatience. 
From what he could see, Grey, his parents, and Steve Talbot were 
faring no better.

Across the room, Talbot resumed pacing, casting baleful glances in 
Mulder's direction and muttering under his breath. He'd been 
roaming the small room like a caged tiger for most of the past 20 
minutes, his agitation only exacerbating Mulder's nervousness. 
And evidently Grey's, as well. His brother ignored Talbot for 
several minutes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Mulder 
tensed, expecting trouble. 

"Steve, do us all a favor? Sit down and shut the hell up."

Grey's words, amazingly, held weary resignation rather than 
animosity. Unfortunately Talbot, strung tighter than a bow, didn't 
hear the difference. Two quick strides and he was standing over 
Grey.

"Fuck off. You expect me to just sit and twiddle my thumbs, not 
knowing what's happening to my little girl? This is *your* fault, 
Grey. Anything happens to Claire, and so help me God, I'll--"

Grey slowly stood up. His lip curled and his voice dropped to a 
dangerously intimate level. "You'll what? Knock me around like 
you did Kira? Go ahead, Steve. Let's see how you do against 
someone your own size."

Mulder moved to separate them, but was outstripped by Grey's 
father, who wedged himself between the two men, expression 
stern.

"That's enough. Last time I checked they didn't allow brawling in 
this hospital. If you two aren't careful you'll be waiting out on the 
street." He gave Grey a look that said he expected more from him, 
then placed a hand on Talbot's shoulder. "Steve, everyone in this 
room wants the best for Claire. Casting blame is not only pointless, 
it's unfounded."

Steve shrugged off the touch, face twisted with anger and grief. 
"Why can't you all see how ridiculous this is? You won't listen to 
me, but you'll take advice from a guy that hunts aliens for a living. 
And you..." He stabbed a finger in Grey's direction. "You're the 
reason things have gotten so out of control. Kira never would have 
agreed to this...this *treatment*...if you'd've kept your mouth shut. 
There's nothing unfounded in--" He broke off with a pained cry, 
grabbing his head and crumpling.

Grey and his father caught hold of Steve's arms, easing him onto 
the linoleum as his eyes rolled back in his head and his limbs 
twitched and spasmed. Mulder knelt beside them, loosening the top 
button of Talbot's shirt.

Grey watched him, face pale. "What the--?"

"The tumor." Mulder ground out the words as he shoved aside a 
chair. "He's on medication for seizures, remember?"

Grey watched Talbot's body jerk and twist. "What do we do?"

"Nothing." Mulder stole a quick look over his shoulder; saw Grey's 
mother approaching with a nurse in tow. "Just make sure he doesn't 
hurt himself."

By the time medical personnel arrived, the spasms had ended, 
leaving Talbot dazed and semi-conscious. Mulder gave the young 
woman a brief rundown of Talbot's medical condition as she 
checked his vital signs. Once she was satisfied he had stabilized, 
she fetched an orderly to help her move him down to the ER.

"We'll run a few tests; make sure nothing else is wrong," she told 
them as Steve was carefully strapped to a gurney for transport. 
"He'll probably just need to sleep for a while. If, as you say, it's 
due to the tumor, there's really not much we can do but provide a 
place for him to rest and keep an eye on him."

"We'll come along." Grey's mother looked to her husband for 
confirmation. When he nodded, she turned to her son. "We'll be 
back as soon as Steve gets settled. Tell Kira--"

"I will." Grey looked at Talbot, pity darkening his eyes before he 
glanced quickly away. "I'll track you down if there's any news."

Once Talbot's little entourage had left, Mulder reclaimed his chair. 
His brother, however, remained standing, forehead creased and 
teeth gnawing his lower lip. After several minutes had passed and 
Grey showed no signs of moving, Mulder cleared his throat.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just..." Grey sounded far away. Distracted. "I guess 
I was so worried about Claire, it never sank in."

"Steve dying?"

His brother nodded, shame flushing his cheeks. "To be honest, up 
until now I've barely given it a passing thought. And when I did..." 
He winced. "The only thing I felt was relief."

Mulder chose his words carefully. "He's not exactly the easiest 
person to like."

Grey snorted. "Tell that to Kira." He sighed; scrubbed a hand 
across his stubbled jaw. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd 
feel sorry for the bastard."

"Lack of sleep, stress--I'm sure the past few days have aggravated 
his condition. It's not really surprising that he's feeling the 
repercussions. In fact, it's possible some of Steve's.anger 
management issues could be traced to this tumor."

Grey walked over and dropped into the chair beside Mulder. "It's a 
helluva way to die." He turned his head to study his brother's face. 
"Fox... Have you wondered if there could be more to Steve's tumor 
than meets the eye?"

"Why--just because Steve and Claire both are suffering from a 
malfunctioning of the cells in their brains?

"Quite a coincidence--huh?"

It coaxed a small smile onto Mulder's lips. "You know what I'm 
gonna say, right?"

Grey's mouth twitched. "I've heard it a time or two, yeah."

The grin faded and Mulder shook his head. "Steve said his tumor is 
located in the parietal lobe, which just happens to be the location 
of the children's epilepsy *and* the area of missing tissue. I can't help 
feeling there is a connection, at least on some level. If Claire and 
the other kids carry the genetic precursor for the abilities possessed 
by Gibson Praise, then perhaps Talbot carries the precursor to what 
they have. Maybe he's one step back in the evolutionary chain."

"So why the tumor? And please don't tell me aliens did something 
to him, too."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Contrary to what you may think, I don't 
see little green men around every corner." He tipped his head back 
against the wall, thinking aloud. "There's an element of trial and 
error in gene mutation, with natural selection serving to ensure 
only the most desirable traits survive. Maybe Talbot's tumor is 
nature's way of weeding out a less successful attempt." 

He sighed rubbing the heels of his hands into gritty eyes. "We'll 
probably never know--though I'd definitely like Scully to take a 
peek at his medical records when this is all over."

Grey shifted in his chair. "I just hope it's soon. I can't take this 
waiting much longer."

Mulder watched his brother search for a more comfortable 
position, Kira and Talbot's words resonating in his head. Finally, 
he could keep silent no longer.

"Why did you do it?"

Grey's jaw tightened and he glanced away. "What do you mean?"

"Kira told me you were the one who convinced her that Claire 
should undergo the procedure."

"That's right."

"Why?"

When Grey didn't immediately answer, Mulder sat up and turned 
to study him. "We've been at odds over this case from almost the 
moment Scully and I got here. You certainly made no secret of the 
fact you wanted nothing to do with our investigation. Why are you 
backing me now, Grey?" His lips twisted into a grim smile. "Are 
you trying to tell me you've come to believe in aliens?"

Grey's reply was very soft. "No. I can't say that I do."

"Then why go along with this line of treatment; why put your neck 
on the block with Kira and the rest of your family? Talbot was 
right, you know--if Claire dies they will never truly forgive either 
one of us." Mulder shook his head, voice rising along with his 
anger. "If you did it out of regret, as an attempt to fix the trouble 
between us, then you needlessly risked Claire's life. And it doesn't 
prove anything."

"It should prove something to you. But not what you're thinking." 
Grey dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes for a long moment, then 
lifted them to Mulder's face. "I do regret what's happened to us, 
Fox. God help me, if I could take back the words, I would. But 
that's not the reason I talked to Kira."

The honest emotion in Grey's eyes was too much. Mulder looked 
away, blinking hard. "Then why?"

"Because as terrible as the past three days have been, they've 
helped me to understand something. Not that I believe in aliens." 
He chuffed. "Give me some time. It took Dana years--I think I 
deserve at least a week." The laughter faded from his voice. "I may 
not believe in aliens, Fox. But I believe in you."

Mulder sucked in a sharp breath as Grey continued. "You're a hell 
of an investigator. You find patterns, make connections most 
people would never see. And you're willing to look beyond 
established boundaries for the answers you need." He bit his lip, 
shame creeping into his voice. "Even if you wind up taking shit for 
it.

"You were right about this case. Every step of the way. And I 
think...I believe...you're going to be right about Claire. *That's* why I 
talked to Kira."

"You may be sorry." Mulder squeezed the words past the lump in 
his throat, then forced a smile. "Despite what I tell Scully, I'm not 
always right."

Grey's lips curved. "I'll take the odds, little brother."

Before Mulder could find his voice, the double doors swung 
outward, discharging Scully, Kira, and several medical personnel 
pushing a gurney bearing Claire. Mulder and Grey sprang to their 
feet.

"What happened? How is she?" Grey trotted alongside the gurney, 
staring down at Claire's still face.

"Too soon to tell." Kira's hand enveloped her daughter's; she 
looked very pale but composed. "Dana will explain everything, 
Grey. I'll see you downstairs."

Grey let them go, watching until they'd disappeared into the 
elevator. He turned to Scully, hope and fear clouding his face. 
"Dana?"

Scully pursed her lips. "Dr. Pratt delivered the mildest dose for the 
shortest amount of time. And it appears to have worked. The post 
treatment EEG shows a drastic reduction in electroconductivity."

"But?"

She lay her hand on his arm. "Claire's brain has suffered a 
prolonged period of extreme stress to the neurons and synapses. It's 
too soon to tell if there will be irreversible damage."

Mulder frowned. "What exactly are you saying, Scully?"

Her eyes drifted closed and she shook her head.

"Dana?"

When she looked up, Scully's eyes glistened with tears. "Claire's in 
a coma. We're not certain she'll come out of it." 


Concluded in Chapter 17

Blood Ties 11: Evolution (17/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com


Raleigh Community Hospital
Saturday
6:16 AM


*Coffee.*

Grey's nose twitched. He sucked in a deep draught of the rich, 
steamy fragrance, forcing heavy eyelids to cooperate. Bleary eyes 
focused first on the styrofoam cup suspended just beneath his chin, 
then on Dana's smiling face. Accepting the cup from her hand, he 
smothered a yawn before taking a sip. Hot and strong, it chased a 
few of the cobwebs from his head. A larger swallow and he heaved 
a contented sigh.

"Darlin', you are a goddess."

She offered him a little smirk and raised her own cup. "Nope. Just 
a fellow addict." Her gaze cut over to the couch where his brother 
lay sprawled across the cushions, motionless. "Do I need to check 
for a pulse?"

Grey chuckled and patted the chair beside him. "Trust me, he's 
fine. I can see his chest move from here."

"Where's Kristen?" Scully took the proffered seat and nudged the 
loafers off her feet, wriggling her toes.

"Having some breakfast with my folks. I wasn't hungry."

She cocked one eyebrow, lips tightening. "You're as bad as 
Mulder. Both of you are going to wind up hypoglycemic before 
this is over."

"Speaking of which... Did you talk to the doctor?"

Annoyance gave way to a genuine smile. "He's cautiously 
optimistic. Claire continues to show an increasing amount of brain 
activity. The EEG indicates something in the neighborhood of four 
to six cycles per second. If the improvement persists, she should 
wake soon."

Grey felt a goofy smile take over his face. "Coffee *and* good news. 
Definitely a goddess."

Scully held up one hand, obviously struggling to control her own 
enthusiasm. "There's still the possibility of brain damage. We 
won't know for sure until she regains consciousness."

"But you don't think so." Grey scrutinized her expression, looking 
for any sign of apprehension and finding none. "You think she's 
going to be all right. Don't you?"

"I think Claire's overloaded neurological system came dangerously 
close to self-destructing. And that the coma is her brain's way of 
shutting down for repairs."

Grey turned to look at his brother, something like awe creeping 
into his voice. "He did it again, didn't he?" He shook his head. 
"Even when the situation looks hopeless, he finds a way. He's a 
regular Houdini--put him in a locked room and he manages to 
conjure up the key."

Scully pursed her lips, unable to hide the twinkle in her eyes. 
"Mulder's methods rarely involve the front door, Grey. A more apt 
analogy would be to say he crawls out a window." She chuckled. 
"One that nobody knew existed."

Grey shook his head, one corner of his mouth turning up. "ECT. 
Nobody but Fox would come up with such a crazy...brilliant idea. 
We owe him Claire's life."

"I've been in touch with the other hospitals, detailed Claire's 
treatment and the results. So far it seems to be achieving similar 
success with the other children." 

"That's great, Dana. Really great."

He leaned back in the chair, aware of her sharp, assessing gaze as 
he continued to drink his coffee. Deliberately ignoring it, he smiled 
inwardly and waited for her to ask.

"Things have changed between you. Again."

He let the smile seep onto his face. "I hope so. How could you 
tell?"

"We haven't had much chance to talk, but..." She gestured at Fox's 
sleeping form. "He's relaxed for the first time in days. It's as if a 
weight has been lifted from his shoulders." She looked at Grey 
from the corner of her eye. "I didn't think it was simply relief over 
Claire."

"Upstairs, in the waiting room, we had a talk." Grey set his empty 
cup beside his chair, wincing. "Well, I did most of the talking, I 
guess."

Scully's lips thinned. "I'm glad to hear it."

Grey snorted. "Yeah. Amazing how clearly you can see things 
once you take your head out of your ass." Her chuckle warmed 
him, giving him the strength to continue. "I'm sorry, Dana. If hard 
times are a test of character, then I'm afraid I've failed. Miserably. I 
hope you both will eventually be able to forgive me."

Her small hand pried open his clenched fist and curled around his 
fingers. "You made a rocky start, Grey. But when push came to 
shove, I'd say you ended well."

Grey lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'd 
say you're being generous. More than I deserve."

"*I'd* say you're kissing my wife. Back off, Bubba."

Grey gave Scully's hand a squeeze and released it, watching his 
brother roll to a sitting position. Clothing disheveled and cheek 
creased by the couch, Mulder ran his hands through sleep-tousled 
hair and feigned a scowl.

Grey chuckled. "Better me than you. I've seen road kill in better 
shape, little brother."

"Looked in a mirror lately? I've got serious competition."

"None of us is exactly fresh," Scully observed dryly. "I'm having a 
hard time remembering when I last saw a shower."

Mulder stood and stretched, then shifted with a grimace. He pinned 
Scully with a reproachful pout. "At least one of us had a *complete* 
change of clothing in the overnight bag."

"Did I forget something when I packed?" Scully was all wide-eyed 
innocence. "I'm sorry, Mulder. We were in such a rush..."

Grey's gaze flitted between them, a slow grin taking over his face. 
"I've warned you about her, Fox. This is a dangerous woman."

"You have no idea."

The patter of running footsteps, and a moment later Kira appeared. 
Flushed and breathless, her eyes glowed with happiness and tears. 
"She's awake! I had to step out while the doctor checks her over, 
but she seems fine, more than fine, she asked where she was and 
she...she complained that she's hungry..." Kira's gush of words 
ended in a sob and she threw her arms around Mulder's neck. 
"Thank you."

Mulder blinked, his arms slowly coming up to return the embrace. 
"You're welcome."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned, latching onto Grey, who 
had come to stand beside her. "And you." She lay her cheek 
against his and murmured into his ear. "You saved me from 
making a terrible mistake." Stepping back, she grabbed hold of his 
hand. "C'mon. I know she'd like to see you."

Grey allowed himself to be drawn down the hallway, casting a 
questioning look over his shoulder.

Mulder waved him on. "Go ahead. We'll go home and get cleaned 
up, see you back here a little later." He smirked. "Wouldn't want to 
scare the poor kid."

As they watched them disappear down the hallway, Mulder draped 
an arm around Scully's shoulders. Sliding her own around his 
waist, she leaned in to his side. "Everything's going to be all right 
now."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah."

Tilting her chin up, she looked into his eyes. "You did it, Mulder."

He grinned, tightening his embrace. "Nope. *We* did."


133 Waterbrook Lane
Monday
7:46 PM


The atmosphere was positively festive. Grey's parents and his 
sister Shannon regaled Kristen with stories of Grey's childhood 
exploits while Shannon's husband, Rob, rode herd over their two 
children, chasing them away from the soda. Scully and Kira sat in 
the corner with heads together, discussing everything from Claire's 
recovery to the novels they were reading. Grey and Steve, his 
condition stable for now, were eating chips and checking 
basketball scores, coexisting peacefully, for once. And presiding 
over it all, set up on the couch like a small queen, Claire nibbled 
pizza and soaked up the attention.

Mulder, ever the willing slave, delivered her third cup of soda, 
perching on the edge of a cushion when she coaxed him with big 
brown eyes.

"You feeling all right, slugger? Sure you're not too tired for all 
this?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "I wish people would stop asking me that. 
I'm fine, Uncle Fox." She looked up at him, lips parted as if about 
to speak, then pressed them together.

Mulder nudged her with his shoulder. "What?"

"It's nothing."

"Funny. Didn't look like nothing." He nudged her again. "Give."

She peered at him from beneath her lashes. "Promise you won't get 
mad?"

"You gonna call me names?"

"No."

"Use four letter words?"

A giggle. "*No.*"

"Then I promise I won't get mad."

She fiddled with her blanket for a moment, picking at a frayed 
edge. "Did your sister really get taken away by aliens?"

He felt his jaw drop. "I... Where did you hear that?"

"Mommy and Uncle Grey were talking once when they didn't 
know I was around. Uncle Grey said your little sister disappeared 
when she was eight, and that you believe aliens took her." She 
studied his expression carefully. "Do you?"

He kept his reply calm and matter-of-fact, though he had a feeling 
he knew where Claire was headed. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Her brow furrowed as she considered his answer, teeth gnawing 
her upper lip. Several minutes passed, and he'd just begun to hope 
he'd dodged the bullet, when Claire spoke again. "Is that what you 
think happened to me?"

He choked out a laugh. "You hear an awful lot, don't you?"

"Is it?"

Mulder's eyes swept across the room, but no help was forthcoming. 
All around him people continued to eat, chat, and laugh, 
completely oblivious to the fact that an eight-year-old girl had just 
backed him into a corner. He met Claire's gaze squarely.

"Yes."

If she was upset by the confirmation, she didn't show it. "I don't 
really remember very much."

"What do you remember?"

She squinted a bit, as if trying to decipher a picture in her mind. 
"Light. A really bright light, except... Instead of being warm, it felt 
cold." She shivered, her expression too old for her years.  
"Whoever took me away, I don't think they liked me very much."

Mulder tucked the blanket around her with unsteady hands. A 
dozen responses flickered through his mind, but he discarded them 
all. In truth, Claire's observation seemed eerily accurate. 

She watched him, face solemn. "You know what's not fair, Uncle 
Fox?" When he raised his eyebrows, she continued. "They gave me 
back to my mommy. Why didn't they give your sister back to 
you?"

The familiar pain pierced his heart, though its edges were blunted 
by old secrets revealed and new relationships forged. Mulder 
managed a smile at her childish outrage. "Lots of things aren't fair, 
sweetheart. But I'm really glad you're here now, and safe. And that 
you're going to stay that way." He tweaked her nose and was 
rewarded with another giggle. "I believe that, too."

Claire's cousins, Patrick and Amanda, chose that moment to bound 
up to the couch. Patrick thrust a box onto Claire's lap while his 
sister perched on the coffee table.

"Hey, Claire, wanna play Monopoly? You can be the dog."

Amanda, remembering her manners, smiled up at Mulder. "You 
can play too, Uncle Fox. Patrick called dibs on the race car and I've 
got the shoe, but you could be the hat."

Mulder grinned. "You know, it's been a long time since I've had an 
offer that tempting, but I think I'll go have another slice of pizza 
instead. Maybe I'll catch the next game."

He wandered into the kitchen, grateful for a respite from the 
commotion of the living room. Bracing his palms on the counter, 
he stared out the window at the backyard. Moments later arms 
encircled his waist and something soft and warm draped itself 
along his back, coaxing a smile onto his lips. Scully.

She pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "What's the going 
rate on thoughts these days?"

He shrugged. "Not sure, but I doubt they're worth the investment."

She moved to his side, peering up at his face. "Mulder, when you 
leave a party to brood in an empty room, I'm all ears."

"I'm not brooding."

Her raised eyebrow communicated more clearly than words what 
she thought of his evasion. Mulder chuckled, in spite of himself. 

"I'm not, really. I just... I had a talk with Claire a few minutes ago."

"And?"

He finally turned to face her, lip caught between his teeth. "It 
reminded me of all the children who didn't make it home. Claire's 
right--it isn't fair."

"That must have been some talk."

"She's some kid."

"She is. And she's home now, alive and well. As are eleven of the 
thirteen other children taken when Claire was. They're going to get 
their driver's licenses, go to the senior prom, fall in love... All 
because of the work you did--" At his warning look, she amended, 
"--we did--on this case. Do you hear what I'm telling you, 
Mulder?"

"That we've ensured years of sleepless nights for their parents? 
Ow!" He rubbed his ribs where she'd punched him. "All right, all 
right. I'll stop brooding."

"Thank God for that." Grey stepped into the kitchen, giving Scully 
a wink. He jabbed a finger at his brother. "Only you could get 
morose in the middle of a party."

Mulder folded his arms, feigning an air of injury. "You know, I 
don't have to stand here and take this. I was invited to join a very 
high stakes game of Monopoly. They're even saving the hat for 
me."

Grey chuckled. "I wouldn't if I were you. I've played with that 
crowd and they're a ruthless bunch. Plus, Patrick cheats."

Scully chuffed. "Sounds like a near miss, Mulder."

Grey sobered, studying their faces. "You know, we don't have to 
stay. You two look tired, and you've got an early flight."

A silent consultation with Scully, and Mulder shook his head. 
"We'll hang around a bit longer. After all, I still haven't heard half 
those stories your folks are telling Kristen."

Grey groaned.

Scully kissed Mulder's cheek and pulled away. "I told Kira I'd 
bring her something to drink. Are you two coming?"

Grey glanced at his brother. "We'll be there in a minute." Once 
she'd left the room, he cleared his throat, eyes dropping to the tile. 
"Fox, I... I wanted to talk to you before you left."

"Okay." Mulder frowned at his brother's obvious discomfort.  
"Grey?"

Grey looked up. "I just need to know... Are things okay between 
us?"

Mulder considered carefully before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, they 
are."

Grey's whole body relaxed. "I'm glad."

Mulder grinned. "You know, I'd almost forgotten what it was like 
to fight with a sibling." He ran his hand along the yellowed bruise 
on his jaw and cocked an eyebrow. "I can live without it."

Grey was oblivious to his attempted humor. "Me too." He sighed. 
"This is important to me, Fox. I spent a lot of years wondering 
what it would be like to have you in my life. I don't want to mess it 
up."

"You haven't." Mulder shook his head. "Maybe even the opposite."

Grey's face twisted in confusion. "Come again?"

"Look, the last three days have been hell. There've been times I 
thought we should just pack it in, call it quits. But I think we both 
learned something about each other, Grey. And that maybe we've 
come through this better. Stronger." A pause. "You might even say 
we evolved." He chuckled softly at his own joke.

Grey eyed him warily. "Why do I get the feeling I don't know what 
the hell you're talking about?" He held up both hands. "Never 
mind. I don't want to know." He tipped a thumb toward the living 
room. "What do you say we check out that Monopoly game? See if 
we can catch Patrick cheating?"

Mulder pushed himself off the counter, grinning. "I'd say that's the 
second best offer I've had all evening." He stretched out his arm 
with a flourish. "After you, Bubba."


End


AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's hard to believe I've completed the 
eleventh installment in this series. A huge thank you once again 
goes to everyone who has encouraged me along the way. It's been 
such a pleasure to receive your feedback and hear your thoughts. 
And, of course, many, many thanks to my wonderful betas: Deb, 
Vickie, Suzanne, and Michelle. You gals make me work for every 
chapter, and the story is better for it.