ARCHIVE: You can put it wherever you want, if you'll keep my name on it and ask me first.
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully (Mulder, in this case), Samantha Mulder, and Marita Covarrubias are the property of Chris Carter, 10-13, and FOX. Lucas, Samantha, Daina Kathryn, and anybody else you don't recognize are mine, namely the citizens of Sunflower. Sunflower is mine, too. (
RATING: PG 
CLASSIFICATION: XRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/ Scully married
SPOILERS: Anasazi, Paper Hearts, Bad Blood, Patient X/ The Red and the Black 
SUMMARY: Years ago, a 12-year-old girl found the truth about her adopted sister in a box in her attic... a truth people would kill for. Now, 22 years later, Fox tries to help a woman named Ann who bears a strange resemblance to Samantha, but doesn't want to have anything to do with her less-than-average past. And when her old truth finally comes out, it could cost Fox, Ann, and the missing Marita Covarrubias their lives. 
DEDICATION: To my best 'net friends: Sarah, Nikki, Erin, and Becca 
NOTE: This story is the sequel to Rainbow Continuum. If you haven't read it, read it before you read this one; you'll be slightly confused otherwise. 
THANKS TO: Anne Teldy, for the story's title (the lyrics to the song 'Rainbow Connection' can be found at the end of the story) 

The Rainbow Connection
Emily Miller
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CASE NO. X2304-29483

SPECIAL AGENTS: FOX WILLIAM MULDER, DANA KATHERINE MULDER

DATE OPENED: JUNE 30, 1999

CASE DETAILS (by special agent fox mulder): AS OF TODAY, THERE HAVE BEEN 7 OF THE UNEXPLAINABLE DEATHS IN THE TOWN OF SUNFLOWER, TEXAS. THESE DEATHS STARTED IN EARLY MAY, WITH THE DISAPPEARANCE OF KIMBERLY HARBINGS, AN 8-YEAR-OLD GIRL WHO HAD BEEN IN TOWN FOR LESS THAN A MONTH. SHE WAS FOUND A WEEK LATER, IN BED, EXACTLY AS SHE HAD BEEN WHEN SHE DISAPPEARED. ACCORDING TO HER MOTHER, "IT WAS LIKE SHE'D BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME AND I'D JUST OVERLOOKED HER SOMEHOW." THE SECOND VICTIM WAS 11-YEAR-OLD DONALD BARKER, DISAPPEARED ON MAY 15 AND FOUND MAY 20, IN HIS BED, JUST AS HARBINGS WAS DISCOVERED. AFTER THIS, ALL DISAPPEARING AT NIGHT AND FOUND IN BED APPROXIMATELY A WEEK LATER, WERE CATHERINE CANPEY, AGE 6; ELLEN ARMSTRONG, AGE 15; TIMOTHY TIAN, AGE 10; MARK SACHSTON, AGE 5; AND ROBERT JAMES WITNON, AGE 17. MY BELIEF IS THAT THESE ARE ALIEN ABDUCTIONS, BECAUSE OF THE WAY THE CHILDREN DISAPPEAR WITHOUT ANY APPARENT BREAK-IN, THEN RE-APPEAR THE SAME WAY. AGENT SCULLY BELIEVES IT TO BE SIMPLE MURDER, SOMEONE WHO KNOWS THE CHILDREN AND THEREFORE CAN TALK THEM INTO LETTING HIM OR HER IN AND THEN GET BACK INSIDE WITHOUT MUCH TROUBLE- SOMEONE WITH A KNOWLEDGE OF LOCKS WOULD BE A PRIME SUSPECT. WITH THE OPENING OF THIS CASE, THE UNSUB IS STILL AT LARGE AND THE CASE HAS OFFICIALLY BEEN CLASSIFIED AN X-FILE.
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EXACT DATE AND TIME UNKNOWN
DECEMBER, 1973

She trembled, curled up in the corner of the room. She had been alone for as long as she could remember, years at least. She couldn't remember anything from before, anyway. But now there were people here, people in the white room. A lot of them. 

"That's our sister? That's Ann?" the girl asked. There were 4 of them: a woman, two boys, a big one and a little one, and a girl. Maybe her family. She had an idea what family was, but no memories of these being her brothers, that being her sister, that her mother. Maybe she'd just forgotten. 

The older boy gave the girl, who was a little younger than she was, a withering look. "Of COURSE it is, stupid. Who else would it be?"

"I was just SAYING, John..." the girl's lower lip poked out and the boy- John- rolled his eyes. 

She turned her attention away from their argument, which heated up after that point, as the woman came to her and crouched on the floor. She looked nice enough, with light blond hair and blue eyes. She was smiling. "Ann?" she said softly, ignoring the fight continuing behind her. "Ann, my name is Marian Covarrubias. That's-" she pointed to the younger boy, who was watching his older siblings with a thumb in his mouth. He looked about 4. "Jamie. And that's John and the girl, she's just your age- 8, right? - is Marita. We're your family."

She was still scared, confused. Was her name Ann? She didn't think so, she thought it was... she didn't know WHAT she thought. But it wasn't this. This wasn't right. Something was missing from her mind. She opened her mouth to start to speak but instead, for the first time in almost forever- as long as she could remember- she started to cry.
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JULY 13, 1999
3:45 P.M.

Daina Kathryn Scully stared out at the brown and gray and green below, fascinated. She'd been glued to the window of the plane for over an hour now, ever since she'd tired of her book, a children's-version of Moby Dick. It was a little hard for a 4-year-old, but she relished challenges- when there wasn't something better to do, like watch the country go by.

"Hey, D.?" Her sister, Samantha Mulder, who had the seat next to hers, poked her in the arm. "Dana says that she wants you."

Daina Kathryn peeled herself from the view and turned to her mother looking at her, waiting patiently for her to give up her entertainment. She was like that. If Daina Kathryn found something she liked, Dana- and Fox, too- did everything she could to encourage her daughter. 

"What?" Daina Kathryn asked. She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear, a habit she'd picked up from her mother early on. She'd gotten her hair cut soon after she'd gone to live with Fox and Dana, to a cut identical to her mother's. People knew immediately they were mother and daughter when they saw them together somewhere, and that made Daina Kathryn feel wonderful. She'd spent so much time with an aunt as her only family. Now she had a mother and a stepfather and a brother and a sister and an aunt and two uncles and two grandmothers, even if she'd never met one of them.  

"Put your seat belt on, we're about to land. And do you have your book?"

Daina Kathryn held up Moby Dick, then reached between her seat and Samantha's and pulled up the seat belt and pulled it over her lap. The trip had gone a lot faster than she'd thought it would, maybe because she'd never been on a plane before. She'd been in cars and in a helicopter and had walked miles and miles to hide from people who wanted to catch her and Melissa, but never a plane. She liked planes best, probably. 

She wished Emily was here to see everything she saw. She didn't remember Emily, who she'd only known the first few minutes of her life, but she still missed her. Dana had given her the picture of Emily at her third birthday and she carried it with her everywhere. She pulled it out of her pocket now and stared at it, at the smiling girl who would have grown up to look just like Melissa. Just like she looked just like Dana.

It was weird, to think that Emily could have been happy and celebrating a birthday party while she, Daina Kathryn, stared out the window of a prison and tried to keep the boredom from becoming overwhelming her. Then Emily had died and she'd gotten out and the situation was reversed. Except maybe, somewhere, Emily was as happy as she was. 

Daina Kathryn just wished that they could be together.
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MAY 29, 1975
2:55 P.M.

Ann Covarrubias sighed softly and stared at the clock on the wall, willing the hands to move just a little faster, the seconds to tick by a little more quickly. Only 5 more minutes, she tried to tell herself, but it wasn't doing much good. The last day of school was always the slowest. Mainly because there was nothing for the teacher to give them to do, no work to be done, and all their books had been taken up the day or the week before.

She was thinking seriously about closing her eyes and sleeping through the last few minutes when a note landed on her desk, tossed expertly from her sister, Marita, who sat 2 seats over. Ann sometimes couldn't believe that they could REALLY be sisters, even though her mother had used the car wreck as an explanation for her change from a "regular" Covarrubias, which meant loud and attention-seeking, to an abnormal, quiet, thoughtful one. She didn't remember the car wreck; she didn't remember ANYTHING from before those days in the white room, except... no, that was just her imagination. It HAD to be. Her brothers were John and Jamie. 

Marita had insisted on sitting next to her at the beginning of the school year, but had been moved to her current desk less than a week later for talking continuously. Ann, who'd been getting the same looks from the teacher Marita did until then, immediately became a teacher-favorite. And she'd stayed that way, which never failed to make Marita and her brothers, especially John, giggle. 

Ann glanced at Marita, who was grinning. Her note was sure to have something less-than-positive about SOMEBODY, but it would probably also be true. For some reason, Marita always knew things about everybody and everything long before anybody else. 

Ann opened the note with reluctant fingers. She didn't want to read it, didn't want to know that so-and-so was moving to Alaska or that this person's parents were getting divorced or that person's sister had died her hair blue and gotten a nose ring. Gossip didn't interest her the way it interested Marita, she hoped it never would. Marita got extremely boring sometimes. 

ANN-

		CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT OLD MS. GILBERTS WON'T LET US SIT WHERE WE WANT, EVEN TODAY, OR EVEN TALK? I THINK THAT IF SHE EVER HAD TO BE NICE FOR 5 MINUTES, SHE WOULD HAVE A HEART ATTACK AND DIE... NO, WAIT, NO SUCH LUCK. SHE WOULDN'T DIE. SHE WOULDN'T EVEN SUFFER. SHE'D JUST GET CARTED TO THE HOSPITAL FOR A FEW HOURS, THEN SHE'D BE RIGHT BACK HERE TO TORTURE ALL US POOR, DEFENSELESS CHILDREN. WHAT DO YOU THINK?
						M'ITA

That's what she was making everybody call her now. "M'ita." She said it made her sound older. Jamie said it sounded like she was some kind of stripper, which got him sent to his room for a while. He was 6 and tried his hardest to be as old as Ann and Marita and especially John. Ann thought that he was the only one in the family that might possibly be okay, or him and his mother, if the others weren't around. But they were, and he wasn't. 

Ann thought Mrs. Gilberts was okay. She wasn't the best teacher in the whole world, but she wasn't the worst either. She was digging through her backpack for a pencil with the bell FINALLY rang. She zipped it back up and was out of her seat, trying to keep up with Marita as Marita tried to catch up with the group of the most popular girls in the class, who wanted nothing to do with her. It was that way every day, and every day Ann tried to tell herself that tomorrow she wasn't going to follow them like a puppy. But everyday she did. Maybe next year the girls wouldn't be in the same class with her and Marita- her mother always made sure they were in the same class- and this wouldn't happen. There wasn't much chance of that, but there was always hoping. Ann was good at hoping, she had plenty of time to dream and hope. Not that it ever came to anything. 

"Mar- M'ita! M'ita, wait up!" Jamie had gotten out kindergarten as fast as Marita and Ann had gotten out of third grade. Of course, as usual, he ignored Ann completely, running right by her to Marita, who put an arm around his shoulder and rubbed his hair. 

Hair was another thing that separated Ann from the Covarrubias' family. Every one of them, from Jonathan Covarrubias, Sr., to little Jamie, had blond hair. LIGHT blond hair. Ann's was dark, wavy, and so different, as she was in most everything. 

Following behind Marita and Jamie, the idea she'd been trying to hide for over a year now, since after the "accident", wriggled it's way into her mind: could it be that she was being lied to? What if they WEREN'T her real family? And what about the boy... the one who's face she saw in her dreams. Who was he?
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JULY 13, 1999
4:15 P.M.

Samantha Mulder stuck her head through the doorway that separated the room she shared with her brother and sister and the Fox and Dana's. "I'm bored. When are we going to do something?" she asked, adjusting one of her long pigtails. Dana had wanted her to cut it, saying shorter hair was easier to manage, especially if it was as thick as hers, but Samantha had refused. Fox had backed her up, he still thought she was a clone of his sister. She'd never had a chance to think about it before, she hadn't known what a clone was- what ANYTHING was-, but now that she did, she didn't think she was clone. She was HERSELF, not the first Samantha Mulder. If she'd been given a choice, she would have given herself her own name, one that would separate herself from the other Samantha. Maybe Katherine, she liked Katherine, but unfortunately, Daina Kathryn had gotten to it first. 

Dana was re-reading the case file they'd come to the tiny town of Sunflower to look into, Fox was watching the little TV, just like Lucas was in the kids' room. You could barely see anything through the static, which was why Samantha had gotten bored. Daina Kathryn, as usual, had her nose stuck in a book. She was so BORING sometimes, all that science junk she loved so much. 

At first, Samantha didn't think she was going to get an answer, because both her adoptive parents seemed engrossed in what they were doing. Then Dana looked up. "In a little while, Samantha. Tell Lucas and Daina Kathryn to put their shoes back on, we'll go see what there is to do in this place." She went back to her file.

Neither Fox nor Dana would tell Samantha, or even Lucas, what they were here about. They just said it was a case they had to investigate. Samantha thought it was probably because they thought she would get scared. Maybe Daina Kathryn would, she was only 4 years old, but SHE was 7, or about 7, and almost never got scared. She had nothing to get scared OF. 

She knew that Dana hadn't wanted to come, or to have her and Lucas and Daina Kathryn come, because she thought it was dangerous. That meant it wasn't just a bank robber or something. Then again, from what Fox and Dana told her, they didn't usually investigate bank robberies. They'd admitted that they didn't know why Skinner would have assigned them to the prison where they'd found Melissa and Daina Kathryn, if they hadn't been there, it would have just been a normal prison. 

Samantha ducked back into the other room. "Dana says to put your shoes on," she said, pleased she'd remembered just what to say. Sometimes she got shoes and socks mixed up, but she thought she was making good progress with language. She'd only been speaking it a little over 6 months. 

Daina Kathryn yawned, put her book down on the bed where she had been stretched out on her stomach, and leaned over the side to pick up her sandals. She loved those stupid sandals and, as long as it was warm enough, refused to wear anything else. There was no chance that it would be too cold in Texas. 

Lucas, on the other hand, ignored Samantha completely, entranced by whatever it was he could see on the TV. He loved TV, movies, anything like that. Dana had gotten him a little TV for his bedroom at home and he would sit on the floor, his back against the bed, for hours, eyes never leaving whatever show was on. Samantha walked over and poked him and he lifted his arm and took a half-hearted swipe at her. But he also looked up. "What?"

"Dana said put your shoes on," Samantha repeated. 

"I'm watching!" he said, turning back to the TV. She sighed and went outside to wait.
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JULY 13, 1999
4:20 P.M.

Dana closed the file quickly when Daina Kathryn walked into the room, book in hand, and sat beside her on the bed. "What're you reading?" she asked, with her usual innocent curiosity. She asked questions 24 hours a day. When Samantha asked her why she did that, she said a scientist needed to know everything. And as far as she knew, Dana DID know everything. Dana was her mother, but she was also her hero. And Dana wasn't quite ready to break the truth to her daughter. 

"A file," Dana said, hoping she wouldn't have to elaborate. She and Fox had spent most of a night arguing about taking the kids with them on this case; she'd said it was too dangerous, he'd said there was no place to leave them. She'd given in, after making him promise they wouldn't let them out of their sight the whole time. 

It was their first X-File since January. Dana wasn't sure it was the one Skinner should have given them: it involved children and children dying. She was overprotective of her kids, especially Daina Kathryn, but that was because she was always worried that she was going to run into another 'Emily.' Daina Kathryn was Emily's twin sister, the government had killed Emily, they could kill Daina Kathryn without much trouble. 

Maybe that was why they were on this case. To get rid of Daina Kathryn. It wouldn't look all that strange, considering what they were investigating, for Daina Kathryn to disappear. If she died... Dana tried to suppress a shudder. Losing two daughters, especially after she'd known Daina Kathryn as long as she had... for possibly the first time, she had a real understanding of what Fox had gone through losing Samantha. 

"Can I look?" Daina Kathryn asked next, but she kept her hands in her lap, understanding that much of what her parents did was NOT the kind of thing she needed to be reading. She had nightmares sometimes. The worst one was the one that came less and less frequently now, but had kept her awake for hours in the months before. The one where she was locked in a prison cell with Dana while Rammin, the man who'd tried to kill her and her mother in Canada, shot first Melissa, then Fox, then Lucas and Samantha. And then he opened the prison and Dana turned to look at her, "Don't move, D. I'll be right back," she would say coldly. Then she would leave Daina Kathryn alone and Rammin closed the door behind her. And Daina Kathryn would have to watch as he shot Dana, too. Then she would scream and he would point the gun at her... and she would wake up. 

Dana smiled and the memory of the vivid nightmare vanished. "Not this time, D." She looked at the folder once more, but didn't think she could take much more reading about children dying. And Fox was obviously bored, lying on his back on the other bed- the only connecting rooms had been ones with double beds, and Dana refused to leave the kids alone-, lazily flipping through channels he could only half-see on the TV. "Tell you what. Go get Lucas and Samantha and we'll go look for some place to eat a little early, okay?"

"Alright." She climbed off the bed and ran to the next room and Dana could hear her ordering Lucas to get his shoes on, Samantha had told him to, they were leaving and if he didn't have his shoes on, he would have to stay here. She smiled. Daina Kathryn wanted desperately to grow up and be just like Dana was, and Dana knew it. Melissa had told her the stories Daina Kathryn had made up about living "on the outside" when she was grown up, working for the FBI with a partner just like Mulder- now Fox, her step-father, to her-, in the X-Files. And Dana was sure she would do it. She had the determination. 

Fox had turned off the TV- chances were he'd been listening more to Dana and Daina Kathryn's conversation than the show he'd had on- and was now lying on his stomach, watching her. "Are you really worried about this case, Dana?" he asked, aware of the way she'd quickly gotten Daina Kathryn out of the room before she could ask anymore questions about exactly WHY they were in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere.  

She tried to smile, but her face rebelled and sat there stubbornly with her usually-reserved-for-the-office stony look. "A little," she made herself admit. 

"About Daina Kathryn," he said, filling in the blanks after her words like he always did. It was annoying, but comforting at the same time. 

"Yeah, about Daina Kathryn. It would be so easy for them to do the same thing to her that they did to Emily... and I don't want her to go through that. To go through the pain and the fear and to know she's going to die and that her mother won't do anything to help her." This time the smile came, but it was one of barely hidden bitterness to what they'd done to Emily. She'd loved that little girl that she'd only known a few days, loved her like she loved Daina Kathryn now. 

He got up and held out a hand to her. She took it, for a change, and let him put a hand on her back as they headed for the kids' room. "Don't worry, Dana," he said softly, because if he spoke aloud they were close enough that one of the kids might here. "She'll be fine."

Daina Kathryn had joined Lucas in TV-watching, although she looked bored with it. He'd put his shoes on and then flopped back on the bed. She sat cross-legged beside him. When she heard Fox and Dana enter the room, she looked up and quickly got to her feet. "Are we going now?"

"Yeah," Fox said. "You too, Lucas." Lucas reluctantly turned off the TV and crawled off the bed. He looked tired. Dana had a feeling he hadn't been going to bed when he was supposed to, instead staying up for just a few more minutes of the radio or TV and losing track of time. 

Daina Kathryn, who'd taken her hand, now looked around the room, bewildered. "Where's Samantha?"

Fox and Dana exchanged looks that bordered on worried. "She's not in here?" Fox asked, looking around and seeing the obvious. She wasn't there. 

"I thought she went to your room," Daina Kathryn said. She realized how stupid that sounded immediately. Samantha hadn't been in Fox and Dana's room when she went in there to talk to Dana and she hadn't been in their room when Daina Kathryn had come back and they hadn't passed each other. Sometimes she wished she thought longer before speaking. 

"Outside?" Lucas offered, looking at the doorway. Dana noticed for the first time that the chain had been carefully placed outside the door so it wouldn't close completely. A fear knifed through her stomach and she looked at Fox.

"I'll go look for her." He nodded and she was gone, closing the door all the way this time. 

There was no sign of Samantha, but she could hear voices from nearby. She reached for the familiar weight of her gun, but it wasn't there, of course: she'd kept it with her at all times before, but Daina Kathryn was terrified of guns, and now she only carried it when she thought she would need it. She wished for the first time she still kept it on her. 

"Samantha?" she called, too worried to care that she was possibly endangering both her life and Samantha's by doing so. She didn't want to be here, she didn't want to be here, she could kill Fox for letting herself be talked into this, for taking the kids with them... she was going to lose on, alright, but it was going to be Samantha, not Daina Kathryn. Were Lucas and Samantha not products of government experimentation as well? Why not kill them, too?

Samantha appeared from behind a car, looking impatient. "What?"

"What are you doing out here?" Dana asked as her heart skipped a beat. She was okay. Samantha was okay. 

"Talking to Chris."

"Who's Chris?"

A teenaged boy, probably 17 or 18 years old, came out from behind the same car. He gave Dana an amused grin; like he thought the fact that she was worried about Samantha- that was obvious from her tone of voice- was something funny. "I'm Chris, ma'am. Chris Harbings," he said with an obvious southern drawl.

Something about the name sounded familiar, but Dana couldn't quite place it. Probably just her imagination. "What are you doing with my daughter?"

"I'm just talkin' to her. My sister Kim was about her age." He put a hand on Samantha's head and rubbed her hair, but she ducked away and stuck her tongue out at him. She hated when people messed with her hair, but they were always doing it. Fox said HIS Samantha had been that way, too. 

The name clicked then. Kimberly Harbings. "Your sister was the first one killed," Dana said. She felt no compassion for this boy; he was the type that cared about nobody but himself. 

Like she'd expected he would, he nodded. "Yep. That was Kim. Just disappeared, came back 'bout a week later, dead. Eight years old."

"I'm 7," Samantha said, but neither Chris nor Dana paid any attention to each other. Dana had a sudden feeling of suspicion that Chris could very easily be the killer- his sister had been the first killed, and the killings had started soon after he and his family had moved to Sunflower. 

She glanced back at the sound of a door opening and closing and Fox's voice. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He was jogging towards her. Lucas and Daina Kathryn were standing by their rented car, he looking interested, she ready to fight along her parents, if it came to that. Dana just hoped Lucas would have the sense to grab her if she tried that. 

"Who's that?" Fox whispered to Dana, coming to a stop beside her. She noticed that he had his gun on, which made her feel a little better. 

"He says his name's Chris. Kimberly Harbings, the first victim? She was his sister. I found him out here talking to Samantha," she whispered back. 

Fox was looking at Chris now as suspiciously as Dana had been. "Samantha, is he bothering you?"

Samantha sighed and rolled her eyes, sick and tired of her parents hovering over her like she was Daina Kathryn's age. "NO! We were just talking."

"Well, we're leaving. Come on." 

She sighed again but did as told, crossing her arms and looking exasperated. "See you later, Chris," she said, then, more softly, to Fox, "I can take care of myself!" She didn't know why they were here, neither did Lucas or Daina Kathryn, Dana realized. If things continued like this, with them talking to anybody they saw without worry, she would have to tell them the truth, the last thing she wanted to do. 

"Not here, you can't," Fox said. He felt like he was 12 years old again all of a sudden, dealing with a stubborn little sister. Why was it that all of his kids, even if they weren't really his kids, wanted to grow up so much faster than they were able? They'd missed so much of their early childhoods already: if he was one of them, he would have stayed as young as he could for as long as possible. 

"Can if I want to," Samantha muttered as Fox opened the car door for her, Lucas, and Daina Kathryn. The latter was staying especially quiet, not asking questions about the narrowly-avoided argument with Chris Harbings, sensing the tension in the car. It made her uncomfortable. She hated it when people fought over nothing.
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AUGUST 15, 1975
10:35 A.M.

Ann stared dismally at the pile of gifts on the picnic table, at the laughing girls playing some stupid game, at Jamie trying to talk them into letting him join in. She hadn't wanted a birthday party, not even for her tenth birthday, which Marita insisted was the most important you would ever have, except maybe 21. Marita had turned 10 a month earlier; she'd had a HUGE party with every kid from their former third-grade class and a few of John and Jamie's friends, too. Ann had stayed in her room until Mrs. Covarrubias made her come out for cake. For her own party, she'd been told she had to stay outside. 

"Ann! Hey, Ann!" Marita called, jumping up and down and waving her arms. The other girls- Ann had watched- had done each other's hair earlier and Marita's was even more fancy than usual. It bounced on her shoulders where they'd done their best- and did a pretty good job- to curl it. Ann's hair would never do anything; she no longer bothered to try any more than a ponytail. She wished Mrs. Covarrubias would let her cut it short. 

Ann waved back, knowing perfectly well that Marita wanted her over there but pretending she didn't. 

"Ann, I mean come over here, stupid!" Marita ran over and grabbed her arm. "Come on!"

Ann pulled away. "I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"I'm tired."

"Why? You went to bed the same time I did. Come ON."

"No."

"Ann, you stupid..." Marita's entire vocabulary of insulting words consisted of 'stupid'. 

"Leave me alone... buttmunch!" 

Marita's mouth dropped open at the use of the forbidden word, 'butt', and Ann felt hers do the same. Why had she said that? She'd never heard it said before in her entire life. She wasn't even sure what it meant. 

"Ann Covarrubias!" Mrs. Covarrubias had the arm that Ann had pulled away from Marita and was jerking her to her feet. "Inside, now!" Ann was swatted on the very area she'd just spoken of and shoved towards the house. She went without reluctance, knowing she fully deserved whatever it was she got for what she'd called her sister and maybe best friend. Only friend, was more like it. 

She could faintly hear Mrs. Covarrubias apologizing for Ann having to leave and telling them she would write them all thank you notes for their thoughtful gifts. She sniffed hard, mad at Mrs. Covarrubias for making it sound like she even WANTED the stupid presents, mad at Marita for talking her into the party, and mad at herself for screwing up a day that MIGHT have turned out okay. 

She slammed the door to the bedroom she shared with Marita as hard as she could.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 13, 1999
5:30 P.M.

The car was still in one of two parking spaces in the town's only caf� while Fox and Dana discussed what to do next. It was too early to go back to the motel, Samantha and Daina Kathryn would drive them crazy with boredom, but there was no place to go except to the homes of the families whose children had been killed to interview parents and siblings. 

"We have to take them," Fox said, referring to the kids in the backseat. None were, fortunately, listening to their conversation: Lucas was holding something-or-other so Samantha couldn't get it and Daina Kathryn had her nose stuck in her book again- she took it with her everywhere, determined to finish it before summer ended. 

Dana nodded. She and Fox had been going over the possibilities of leaving them somewhere for about 10 minutes, but no place seemed safe enough, especially after the afternoon's close call. "They'll be fine, they'll never leave our sight."

"First stop, the Harbings'?" Fox asked, already pulling the car carefully out of the tight parking space. Although he had the address of the house, he wasn't sure where the street was. It couldn't be too hard to find in a town this size. 

Sure enough, they arrived within another 5 minutes, pulling into the drive of one of the town's largest homes. There was a little boy tossing a baseball in the air in the front yard and trying to catch it. Nine times out of 10, he missed and had to go chasing after it, more often than not laughing. He stopped when he saw their car and watched them suspiciously. Fox was the first out, and he backed up when he saw him.

"Where are your parents?" Fox called and the boy's mouth dropped open. He turned and ran back towards the house, shouting, "Mooooooommmmmm!" the whole way. 

A woman appeared at the door and grabbed him by the shirt collar as he tried to get around her into the house. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"The killer's trying to get me!" he cried, throwing his arms around as much of her rather large stomach as he could. "He's right there, see!"

She turned and saw the family standing in the driveway, Fox and Dana looking rather bewildered, and the kids giggling at the idea of Fox being a killer. "Who're you?" the woman asked.

Fox pulled out his badge and Dana, seeing him do so, did the same. "Mrs. Harbings?" Fox said. 

"Ms. Witt. Divorced a year ago."

"I'm Fox Mulder, with the FBI. We need to talk to you about your daughter's death." Dana winced. Fox had lost his sister and father and STILL couldn't understand that a death could affect anyone else the way it had affected him. 

But Ms. Witt only nodded. "Come on in." She dragged the little boy with her and held the door open for Fox, Dana, Lucas, Samantha, and Daina Kathryn. "You FBI people usually bring y'all's kids along on investigations?"

"Not usually," Dana said, feeling a sudden dislike for no reason she could think of for Ms. Witt. What business what it of hers if they brought their kids along? She felt Daina Kathryn grab her hand as she detected the coldness in her mother's voice. 

"Well, that's good, 'cause it seems to me that'd be a little big dang'rous, if ya know what I mean?" She sat down heavily on a chair in what appeared to be a living room. "Y'all have a seat." Fox sat gingerly on the edge of the couch and was joined by Dana and then Daina Kathryn, who curled up against Dana and watched Ms. Witt push her son to the floor at her feet. Lucas and Samantha also sat on the floor, since there were no other seats in the room.  

"Ms. Witt," Fox said, sensing Dana's being uncomfortable and wanting to get out as soon as they could before she decided to break in and say what she wanted to say. She very rarely said her mind to strangers, but Ms. Witt, with her personal questions, might prove the exception. "Kimberly Harbings was your daughter, correct?"

"Yeah. She was a problem child all her life. Wantin' to follow her brother around all the time, never wantin' to spend no time with her momma. Didn't remember her daddy, far as I know, we were separated right after Kyle here was born, didn't speak or see each other until we got the divorce last year. Far as I know, he ran off to California with as much money as he could steal from us in the courts and probably died of a drug overdose."

"Who's her brother?"

"Chris Harbings, he's 17, works at the motel. You stayin' there, might see him."

Fox looked at Dana and found her staring back. "Did Chris like Kimberly following him around?"

"Nah, I guess not. He'd come complainin' to me sometimes about it, but I couldn't make her stop. When she died, it was almost a relief to all of us. She didn't... well, she didn't fit in, if you know what I mean, Mr. Mulder."

"Would Chris have had a reason to kill Kimberly?"

"Kill... oh, no, of course not! He's all talk, he'd never hurt nothin'."

Dana broke into the conversation. "How many children do you have, Ms. Witt?" 

Ms. Witt patted Kyle on the head. He winced, but knew better than to duck away. "Just this one and Chris, now. Chris is workin', like I said, I substitute at the school. Used to be a teacher, before my kids were born."

"How old is Kyle?" Fox asked.  

Instead of answering, Ms. Witt kneed Kyle in the back. "Five," he said, staring at the floor. 

"When you got your divorce, were there any custody disputes?" 

"Nah, he never liked the kids much. That was the reason he left, he said, 'cause Kyle was born. Three children's too much trouble, in his opinion. Didn't want the responsibility."

"So there's no chance that he was the one who killed Kimberly?"

"Don't think so. Like I said, he's in California now, maybe dead."

Dana could see that Daina Kathryn was ready to drift off on her shoulder and Lucas and Samantha looked bored almost to tears, picking at the carpet. "Thank you, Ms. Witt," she said quickly, before Fox could launch into another series of questions. "If you would give us your number, we'll call you if we have any further questions."

"It's 555-2468."

"Thank you," Dana repeated. 
>>>>>>>>

JANUARY 13, 1976
11:21 P.M.

He was just staring, just staring, watching as it happened, he wasn't doing anything, he wasn't GOING to do anything, because he hated her, he wanted it to happen, he was going to watch and probably laugh at her and he was going to be happy because she wasn't there, and she screamed his name but he didn't move, he didn't try to help her, not even when she was screaming for him...

"Ann! Ann, wake up!" Marita was at the edge of her bed, shaking her shoulder hard. 

But the nightmare wasn't quite ready to release its grip on Ann. "Fox..." she muttered, twisting away from Marita. "Fox, help me... Fox..."

"Ann!"

Finally Ann opened her eyes and saw Marita and relaxed. The dream was already growing distant and hard to remember; soon it would be gone. "What?" she asked. 

Marita let her go and moved back to sit on the side of her own bed. She'd been asleep when Ann started shouting, something about a fox, and had been almost ready to run and get her parents when she wouldn't wake up, just kept thrashing and shouting. "You were screaming in your sleep."

"I was?" 

"Yeah, something about a fox."

She managed a giggle, even though it didn't seem very funny. "A FOX?"

"Yeah, a fox." Marita fell backward on the bed and laughed, but her laughter was genuine. Now that Ann was okay, she found the whole thing very funny. "Now shut up, I'm going to sleep." She put her pillow over her face and started snoring loudly.

Ann watched her for a minute, wondering why she couldn't be more like Marita, loud and self-assured and always happy. When Marita looked up again, waiting for her to laugh, she pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't have to say anything. But in reality, she didn't get much sleep that night.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 13, 1999
10:30 P.M.

Dana rubbed her eyes and squinted at the pictures in front of her, struggling to find anything out of the ordinary, something that the people at the actual scene might have missed. She'd been at it for an hour now, since she'd sent the kids to bed. Fox was still watching nothing on the TV. He, of course, didn't think there was any reason to do what she was doing: the children had been abducted by aliens and it had been the aliens that killed them and they knew better than to leave anything that might give away the truth. 

She jumped when the phone rang and got up to get it, seeing Fox only glance in its direction and then go back to his stupid static-y show. 

"Hello."

"Agent Scully?" She didn't recognize the voice. 

"Yes?"

"This is Detective Taylor. We've found another body, a 17-year-old kid."

Dana sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly. "Where are you?"

"Less than a mile from the motel. Looks like he was hitchhiking."

"We'll be right there." She hung up the phone and looked at Fox. "Another child was found dead," she said. 

"And we're supposed to be at the crime scene."

She nodded and he turned off the TV. "What about the kids?" he asked. 

That hadn't been something she thought about. Over the years, she'd gotten used to the odd hours of being an FBI agent working with Fox Mulder in the X-Files division. This was their first case since Lucas, Samantha, and Daina Kathryn had come into their lives. She hated to leave them, but they couldn't very well wake them up and make them go look at a body. "They'll be fine, it's less than a mile from here, we don't have to stay long."

"You sure you want to leave them?"

No, she wasn't sure. She wished now she'd listened to him and left them with Melissa. "They'll be fine," she repeated.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 13, 1999
10:40 P.M.

Daina Kathryn's eyes flew open and she covered her mouth quickly before a cry that threatened could escape. She'd had the dream again, where Rammin shot everybody. A tear slid down her cheek and she shuddered.

"Samantha?" she whispered, wanting somebody to talk to. "Samantha, are you awake?" But the form beside her didn't move. 

She wanted Dana. She slipped out of the bed and crept across the room. The door separating her room from Fox and Dana's was, of course, open. And the light was on, the bed made, a file open on the small table. Something was wrong.

Fox and Dana weren't there. 

She told herself to calm down, they were probably just going to get a drink or to investigate something or talk to someone. They would be back soon. She could wait, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until she was sure they were okay. The dream was still fresh in her mind. 

Maybe she could read the file, see if she could find anything they had missed. There was always a chance, she'd found Melissa's book and known she and Fox had gone that way when they were running to Canada to get away from Rammin. She jumped onto the chair- it was just a little too high for her to sit on comfortably, her legs dangled far from the ground- and turned over papers until she got to the first one. It was a newspaper article, cut out carefully, probably by Fox. A long article. She yawned, fighting fatigue already, and stared reading. 
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
12:00 A.M.

Marita checked again to make sure Ann was asleep, then left the bedroom, closing the door behind her so if she made any noise, Ann wouldn't hear it. She didn't want anybody finding her, not until she was finished. 

Earlier that day, her mother had offered her, Ann, and John five dollars each for cleaning up the attic, where they'd stuck a bunch of stuff when they'd first moved to the house, right before they adopted Ann. While they'd been up there, Marita had come across a shoebox in the very back corner, covered in a folded sheet. It almost looked hidden. Her curiosity had been piqued and she'd barely been able to wait for everybody to fall asleep so she could go back up and see what was in this mysterious box.

Now here she was, the excitement overcoming the fear of the dark she'd felt for years and hidden from everyone. She had a sister in the room with her in the dark; she had no reason to be afraid if there was somebody else there. 

The door to the attic was still open a crack, just enough that she could squeeze in, so it wouldn't creak when she opened it. She flipped on the light and went up.

The box was where she'd left it, behind larger boxes so John and Ann wouldn't find it. There were still toys and books scattered around where they'd gone through them earlier; they'd done more messing up than cleaning up. 

She sat on the floor near the box and picked it up, weighing it in her hands. It felt full, or nearly full. She carefully peeled the yellowed tape off the sides and took the top off. 

On the very top of the pile was a photograph. A picture of Ann with some older boy who looked a lot like her, her brother maybe. Were these the things her mother had told her about, the few mementos Ann had from before her family had been killed? 

Marita and her brothers had been told all about Ann before she came to live with them. She'd lived with her family in a place called Chilmark in Massachusetts all her life, with her parents and her older brother. There had been a terrible car accident and her whole family was killed; she'd almost died, too. Because of how traumatic the accident had been, she remembered nothing of her life before living with the Covarrubias' and nobody was supposed to tell her about it. She was going to think that her name was Ann Covarrubias and that she had been in a car accident and that had erased her memory of her adoptive family, except to her it wasn't her adoptive family. Marita had never really thought about what it must have be like to not remember anything before you were 8 years old, but seeing the picture in the box, she realized how horrible it must be. Poor Ann.

The boy was actually sort of cute. He looked 12 or 13 at the time, Ann about the age she'd been when she came to live with them, so it had probably been taken just before the accident. If he hadn't died, he would've been about 16, maybe 17. Marita was almost 12, she didn't think that that was too much of an age difference. 

She turned the picture over to make sure there were no names on the back, but there was only a handwritten date and place: July 3, 1973; Quonochontaug, RI. Quonochontaug? What kind of name was that? She put the picture on the floor beside her and looked at the next thing in the box. 

A birth certificate, it looked like. But parts had been marked out, things changed. There were black lines over almost everything, words written out to the side for room. It was Ann's.

NAME: -------------- ANN MULDER
DATE OF BIRTH: ------------------------------ AUGUST 15, 1965
PARENTS: WILLIAM AND TENA MULDER
SIBLINGS: ------ MULDER

Nothing else interested her. Why was Ann's first name marked out, and wasn't Ann her first name? What about her birthday and her brother, the boy from the picture? Why would they need to mark that stuff out?

She held the certificate up to the attic's single light bulb and smiled a little as she found she could read everything. But the smile quickly faded.

NAME: SAMANTHA ANN MULDER
DATE OF BIRTH: NOVEMBER 21, 1965 AUGUST 15, 1965
PARENTS: WILLIAM AND TENA MULDER
SIBLINGS: FOX MULDER

Fox? Her brother's name had been Fox? So it wasn't a fox, like an animal, that Ann was screaming about in her nightmares. It was her brother. Maybe she remembered him in the car wreck, his body next to hers, remembered it in her dreams and she was trying to wake him up... Marita shuddered and forced herself to forget it. She had to see more; something was being kept from her and her brothers and sister, maybe even from her parents. 
>>>>>>>>

JULY 13, 1999
10:50 P.M.

Dana took a deep breath before knocking hard on the door. She'd offered to tell the family, but she'd thought Fox would come with her. Instead, he'd tossed her the car keys and stayed behind to do more investigating at the scene.

It didn't even look like the same killer to her. All the other kids had been missing for long periods of time and THEN turned up dead, in the exact same place they'd disappeared from. This time, the victim had been shot and left on the side of the road. Probably somebody from out of town, heard about the killings, and decided to try and get away with his own murder and thought nobody would ever suspect it was unrelated. One of the guys who read a lot of police fiction but knew no police fact: it wasn't hard to find obvious differences from murder to murder. 

The door opened slowly and Dana felt her heart stop for a moment. This was the worst part of her job. She wasn't sure if she'd be doing it more on this job or one as a doctor. "Ms. Witt, may I come in?"

Ms. Witt opened the door cautiously, like she was afraid that Dana had a SWAT team behind her or something, ready to shoot at the slightest movement. She closed it again so fast Dana jumped when she was inside. 

"What do you want, my son's asleep?" she asked immediately. 

"It's about Chris. He was shot."

Ms. Witt sucked in a breath. "He dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." There was no answer, which wasn't surprising. What WAS surprising was the way Ms. Witt only stared at her, waiting for her to continue. "I need to take you and Kyle to the police station to answer a few questions and... and you have to identify the body."

The expected outburst didn't come. "Gotta go wake 'im up. Be right back." 
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
12:30 A.M.

Marita was immersed completely in the papers she'd found. Old schoolwork of Ann's, school pictures, other pictures of her and her brother, Fox. But all the work was signed "Samantha". She thought it MIGHT be possible Samantha was Ann's first name she just went by her middle name, but why would she put a name she didn't use on things? 

She was at the bottom of the box; there was another picture there. A little boy, about 4 years old- Fox again-, holding a baby. Ann. Fox was grinning at the camera like he was the luckiest kid in the world, having a little sister; Ann looked like she was laughing. 

Why did things like car accidents happen to people like Fox and Ann? They always looked so happy in the pictures, at least in the earlier ones. In some of the later ones, the smiles looked stiff, forced. 

Marita was pretty sure something was up, but she had no idea what. She would have to go through all the stuff again and-

"M'ita?" 

She whirled to see Ann at the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes in the sudden light after the dark hallway. It was almost strange, seeing the girl out of the pictures standing right there. She felt like she was looking at a stranger. Was her real name Samantha, had she really been born in November of 1965, and had she had a brother named Fox? 

"What're you doing?" she sounded just like she always did, maybe a little sleepy. 

Marita quickly put the top back on the box. "Nothin'. I couldn't sleep, so I came up here to keep cleaning up."

"Didn't get much done, did you?" Ann asked, and smiled. Just like the girl in the pictures. 

"No... I'll be down in a minute, I'm going to put this up."

Ann yawned. "Yeah, okay, g'night."

"More like good MORNING," Marita said, forcing a giggle. But Ann just yawned again and left. Come to think of it, she rarely laughed. Marita had never really noticed it before. Maybe somewhere in the deepest, darkest parts of her mind she remembered the car accident and what had happened to her family. 

With a sad little sigh, Marita stood on stiff legs and took the box back to the corner, covering it again with the sheet. She was just about to leave when she noticed something else, stuffed so far back she could barely see it for the shadows. She reached over and gingerly pulled it out, fearing spiders. 

But there was no dust, no spider webs. It was a folder, as clean and neat as if it had been put there yesterday. She opened it; it was full of envelopes. All were addressed to her father, there was no return address. 

She wanted to read them, but she'd told Ann she'd be right down. She could read them later; she was getting tired, anyway.
>>>>>>>> 

JULY 13, 1999
11:00 P.M.

Dana hid a yawn as she unlocked the door; she was exhausted. She heard noises when the door opened a froze, glancing back at Fox. He was already pulling out his gun. Again, she hadn't taken hers with her and wished she had. She stepped back to let him in the room.

Seconds later, a blur flew at Dana and attached itself to her leg. It looked strangely similar to Daina Kathryn, who'd been asleep when they left. 

"You didn't tell me there was a killer, Mom! You didn't tell me, I want to go home!" She wailed. Dana managed to pull her off her leg and pick her up, as heavy as she was getting, and did her best to comfort her, but it didn't sound to her like Daina Kathryn heard a word she said. She was crying too hard. 

"Shh, D. Shh... the killer's not going to get you. I promise, okay? Okay? D., listen to me, calm down, he's not going to get you. Fox and I are going to protect you, just like we always do. Remember we protected you in Canada?"

But Daina Kathryn, apparently having heard more than she let on, shook her head vigorously. "You got shot in Canada. You could have died and I could have died and there wasn't even a killer there!" She was as angry as she was scared, feeling betrayed by the person she trusted more than any other. Suddenly Dana knew how Fox had felt when she'd shot him, during that horrible week so long ago when she'd thought for a while she was going to lose both her partner and her sister. In the end, she'd lost neither, she had both Fox and Melissa. 

"But we didn't die. And we're not going to die here. You're 4 years old, you have years and years of life left to live."

Daina Kathryn finally pulled her head from Dana's shoulder and looked into her eyes. Dana could see she was terrified. "But what about Emily?"

Dana didn't know how to answer. It was all too complicated. She tightened her arms around Daina Kathryn and together they cried for all that they'd lost.
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
12:00 P.M.

For a change, it had been Marita instead of Ann who'd wanted to get out of going to see a movie. She'd lied about a headache while the rest of her family went off to a third showing of Star Wars and went to the attic as soon as the car pulled out of the drive. It was too hot to go outside, anyway.

She'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail to get it out of her face, during the year she'd let it get almost as long as Ann's, but she didn't really like it that way. She'd get it cut to her shoulders again before school started, when they all got back-to-school haircuts, even John, who wanted his hair long. 

And she'd remembered to wear old shorts and a grubby T-shirt of her older brother's. Her mom had noticed the dirt and dust from the attic on her nightshirt that morning and hadn't been too happy. 

 She crouched in the corner, a small flashlight in hand so she could settle here, and dug out the folder of letters. She felt a little guilty when she opened the folder and took out the first envelope. What if they were love letters her parents had written to each other before they got married or something? She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the thought, she couldn't imagine her parents as dumb teenagers like John and like she and Ann would be in just a year. 

But it wasn't a love letter. It was addressed to her father on the front, there was no return address, just a name written in the upper left corner. Bill Mulder- Ann's father, before she'd been Ann. 

JOHN-

	I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW I APPRECIATE YOUR DEDICATION TO THE PROJECT. YOU WILL LIKELY BE AWARDED IN FAR MORE WAYS THAN THE EVENTUAL FAME THAT ALL OF US WILL ONE DAY HAVE. SAMANTHA IS RIGHT NOW STILL IN TESTING, SHE IS DOING FINE, BUT HAS NO MEMORY OF WHO SHE IS, JUST AS WE WANTED IT TO BE. SHE BELIEVES ME TO BE HER DOCTOR, MY WIFE AND SON STILL DO NOT SUSPECT MORE THAN A SIMPLE KIDNAPPING. FOX, OF COURSE, DOES NOT REMEMBER WHEN SHE WAS TAKEN. WE HAVE IMPLANTED FALSE MEMORIES OF AN ALIEN ABDUCTION IN HIS SUBCONSCIOUS USING THE LATEST TECHNOLOGY, IN CASE HE EVER DREAMS OF IT OR GETS A DOCTOR TO HELP HIM. HE TELLS ME IT IS HIS FAULT SAMANTHA DISAPPEARED, I WILL CONTINUE TO LET HIM BELIEVE SO. 
	SAMANTHA WILL BE COMING TO YOUR HOME IN JUST A FEW WEEKS TIME, WHEN THE TESTS ARE FINISHED. SHE WILL NOT KNOW WHO SHE IS, I WILL SEND IN MY NEXT LETTER INSTRUCTIONS THAT MUST BE FOLLOWED PRECISELY DETAILING WHAT YOU ARE TO TELL HER. TELL YOUR WIFE AND CHILDREN TO TELL HER THE SAME THING, CONTINUE TO DRILL IT INTO THEM UNTIL THEY, TOO, BELIEVE IT TO BE WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.
			BILL

Marita folded up the letter and shoved it back into the envelope slowly, her mind racing. So there hadn't been any car accident, Ann's parents and brother were still alive, somewhere. Where was it Ann had lived? Chilmark, Massachusetts. 

How could her father have agreed to let them do tests on her? Her father would never do that, he loved all his children, even Ann, she was sure of it. 

But from the letter, it sounded like he was as much a part of it all as Bill Mulder was. She felt sorry for Ann, but she felt just as sorry for herself and all the other kids whose parents were lying to them. And there had to be more. 

She went through the rest of the letters in record time for someone who complained about reading aloud in class, absorbing all of the lies and stories she found there. The last envelope was bigger than the others, and the letter inside was short.

JOHN-
	
I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG IN SENDING YOU THESE. FOX IS GRADUATING THIS YEAR, AFTER ONLY THREE YEARS IN HIGH SCHOOL. HE'S THINKING OF TAKING A YEAR BEFORE GOING ON THE COLLEGE- I WANT HIM AT HARVARD, BUT HE'S INSISTENT ON GOING TO OXFORD- TO SEARCH FOR SAMANTHA. I'M DOING ALL I CAN TO STOP HIM, BUT ONLY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT HIM DISAPPOINTED. HE'D NEVER THINK TO LOOK IN SUNFLOWER, TEXAS FOR HIS MISSING SISTER.
			BILL. 

The date at the top was from mid-May, less than a month ago. Bill Mulder was still writing to her father, and chances were her father was still writing to him. 

Her hand brushed something as she was putting the final letter back in. She pulled it out. A picture. Fox, older now. She turned it over, and sure, enough, there was a date on the back: April, 1977. 

Without a doubt, Ann's brother Fox Mulder was still alive. 
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
9:30 A.M.

Fox was the first one awake. Dana was still curled up beside him, Daina Kathryn was in the room's other bed, and when he checked on the other kids, they were both sound asleep. They'd left the TV on. 

He dressed quickly in the shorts and T-shirt he'd brought just for such a moment and left the rooms quietly, beginning his morning jog even before the door had clicked shut behind him. He could think better while he ran, for some reason. 

Most likely, Chris had NOT been killed by the same person who'd gotten his sister. He'd been shot in the chest; Kimberly had had no obvious cause of death. He went over and over the details of both deaths in his mind, unconsciously going back to what he'd learned when he was doing profiles and letting himself into the minds of the killers and their victims.

It had been years, and he'd forgotten how completely wrapped up in it he could get. He was lost in his thoughts for quite a while- until he ran head on into a woman trying to drag a little boy, about 5 years old, with her down the street. She almost went tumbling, but Fox reached out at the last moment and grabbed her arm.

He shook his head to clear it as she glared at him. The little boy was wailing and pointing at a store across the street, yelling something about toys. 

"I'm sorry," Fox said, looking at the woman for the first time. She was beautiful, in an odd way, and something about her seemed very familiar. Maybe it was the hair, long and dark and thick. It kind of reminded him of Samantha. Every summer, just before they left for Rhode Island, his mother had pleaded with her to get it cut, just for the hot months, but she'd always refused. And here was a woman, in summer, in Texas, with hair that hung halfway down her back.

Her expression didn't soften at his apology. "You could hurt somebody like that." The first thing Fox noticed about her voice was the lack of any trace of a Texas-southern accent. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

She didn't say anything in reply immediately; she cocked her head slightly and appeared to be studying him. "You look familiar... do I know you?"

"I wouldn't think so. I'm not from around here, I'm here on... business." He didn't like to tell people he was with the FBI unless it was absolutely necessary. You never knew who was a killer or an accomplice.

"Oh... you just looked like someone I know..."

"I don't think so."

"Well, uh... nice talking to you..." she seemed dazed, having completely forgotten the reason she'd spoken to him in the first place.

He nodded and started backing away. The word 'schizophrenia' ran through his mind, even though he knew that was unfair. He knew next to nothing about this woman. "Yeah, you to. I really am sorry."

"Uh-huh... no, we're not going there," she had turned to the little boy again. "Later, okay? Yes, I promise. We'll go later..." And they were gone, into another store. 

Fox shivered, wondering what had just happened... and why he had such a strange feeling that whatever kind of chance encounter that had been, it would lead to something bigger. MUCH bigger.
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
3:00 P.M.

Marita was waiting for the rest of her family when they got home, nearly ready to jump out of her skin with impatience. It didn't help that Jamie was completely Star Wars-struck, jumping around and pretending he had a light saber and begging John to play with him.

Ann was laughing at something Jamie had just said to John when she came in, and once again Marita was painfully reminded of the smiling pictures of that little girl from the pictures. "Hi, M'ita," she said, the only one to notice Marita sitting (as patiently as she could) on the floor directly in front of the door. 

Taking a deep breath, Marita got to her feet. "Hey, Ann, wanna come see what I found in the attic?" she asked, trying to sound like it was nothing.

"I wanna go," Jamie said, putting down his imaginary light saber for a while.

"It's girl stuff."

He stuck out his tongue and went back to John. Marita sighed inwardly with relief, usually if he even THOUGHT he was being told 'no' he would insist on coming. Maybe this new craze wasn't so bad.

"Sure," Ann said. 

Marita ran upstairs, but had to stop and wait for Ann at the top. Ann seemed in no hurry to get there, she was acting really weird. 

"Hey, M'ita," she said when she finally got to the top of the stairs. "Do you believe in destinies? Like a planned future? I mean, maybe I'm destined to change someone's life forever or something."

Marita groaned and rolled her eyes. "Not you too!" she said, and they both laughed. But Marita suddenly realized that Ann had already changed her life. The trust she'd had in her parents was a thing of the past. Who knew how Ann would react to the truth... or what was going to happen to them? "Come on, let's go!" she cried, and took off again. This time, Ann ran with her.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
10:30 A.M.

Dana was awake when Fox got back to the rooms; the kids were still asleep. She was reading the file for their case for her at least fifth time, searching for anything they'd overlooked that might prove once and for all that it wasn't alien abduction, it was a serial killer. Still something that had to be stopped, but very much explainable. Sort of. 

"Good morning," she said to Fox as he wiped sweat from his face and peeled off the T-shirt he was wearing.

"'Morning," he mumbled. He looked lost in his thoughts, not completely unusual when he was in the middle of a case. At least he hadn't run off on a lead that would almost get him killed yet. Maybe he was thinking about others besides himself for a change. She didn't think he was self-centered, not at all, but when he wanted to follow up on something, next to nothing except physical force could stop him. 

"Take a shower," she said, deciding not to say anything about ditching her. "Then we'll go get some breakfast, alright?"

"Yeah, sure." He disappeared into the bathroom. 

She went back to the file. She was getting nowhere, but something could always show up, some tiny, little, miniscule detail she hadn't seen any of the times she'd read it before. The only problem was, the same material was getting a little boring. 

There were profiles on each of the children, a picture of them before death and taken when they were discovered in their beds. Dana noticed for the first time that Kimberly Harbings looked a lot like Chris. They had the same 'Me? I'm completely innocent!' smile. 

Donald Barker was the next child. The picture was of him and what Dana guessed was a little sister. She had her arms around his waist; he was struggling to get away. 

Catherine Canpey, with missing front teeth and a wide grin that stretched over much of her face.

Ellen Armstrong with a group of friends- she was circled to show where she was-, laughing and goofing off for whoever was taking the picture. 

Timothy Tian with his Asian family- she wasn't sure of the exact country that his grandparents, seated in chairs on either side of his parents, had come- solemnly standing around him. The poor kid, Dana noticed with a smile she couldn't quite stop, had three sisters.

Mark Sachston, smiling proudly with a fish he'd apparently recently caught clutched in one hand. An older boy, most likely a brother, was making an unbeknownst face behind him. 

Robert James Whitnon's junior class picture. He was giving a tight smile to the camera, but appeared horribly uncomfortable in his nice clothes. 

All these children, and now all that was left of them were these pictures. Just like Emily. All that was left of her were pictures- or rather, for Dana, a picture. And that picture was now Daina Kathryn's most treasured possession, more cherished even than the idea of having a family. 

And, Dana, realized with a sudden strange rush of understanding, all Fox had of Samantha. Pictures of her as she grew up, until she was 8 years old, then nothing. No more pictures, no more smiles, no more memories. 

She knew Fox kept a picture of Samantha with him all the time, just as Daina Kathryn did with her picture of Emily. She'd seen the picture so many times, when he reached into a coat or jeans pocket for money and pulled it out instead. It was a class picture, apparently from the last year she'd been with him, where her smile seemed a little more forced, her expression a little older and harder than in the earlier ones Dana had seen. Apparently the stress the family had been going through had had affects on all of them, even the one who couldn't possibly have been old enough to understand what was going on, that her parents were fighting because something horrible was going to happen. 

So much could be contained in a picture. You could learn so much about people from their expressions. Dana continued to gaze at the last picture, of Robert James Whitnon. Her urge to save this case had suddenly increased by quite a lot.
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
3:05 P.M.

Ann took the picture from Marita with a trembling hand. THIS was what Marita had wanted to show her? An old picture? It had to be at least 10 years old, if not older. A maybe 3-year-old girl, clutching to the hand of an older boy, about 7. She was looking suspiciously at the camera, or whoever was taking the picture, obviously not willing to give him her trust. The boy was grinning.

"What's this? A friend of yours or something?" Ann asked. If the girl was 3, she would be about their age now... maybe the picture wasn't QUITE 10 years old. 

"Kind of," Marita said mysteriously. "Look on the back."

Wondering what this was all about once again, Ann turned the picture over and read the neat writing on the back: Fox (6 1/2) and Samantha (2 1/2), August 9, 1968, Chilmark, Massachusetts. "So what?" Ann asked. She was beginning to get annoyed. So Marita had found some old picture, big deal.

Marita handed her another one. It showed what Ann guessed were the same two kids, a few years old. Now the girl had pigtails that hung down almost to her stomach. The boy was pulling one good-naturedly while the girl glared at him and tried to pull away. And on the back: Fox (9) and Samantha (5), December 10, 1970, Lake George, New York. 

"I still don't get it. Who are these people?"

"And these," Now Marita was handing her a group of pictures. Probably no more than 5, but Ann was sick of playing games with Marita. She wanted to play with John like they'd been planning on the walk home. 

More of the same kids, of course, getting progressively older. Fox (10) and Samantha (6), April 8, 1972, Chilmark Massachusetts; Fox (11) and Samantha (7), January 21, 1973; Fox (11) and Samantha (7), August 7, 1973; and the final one, Fox (12) and Samantha (7), October 30, 1973. It was the last one that finally caught Ann's attention.

The little girl, leaning against a tree with her brother, grinning, now looked uncannily familiar. It only took another moment for her to see that she was looking at herself. And the boy... Fox... suddenly her dreams, all of them, came flooding into her mind and she was trembling. The lights, the house shaking, the terror. Crying his name and hearing him calling her, paralyzing fear... She moaned and curled up on the floor, terrified as she hadn't been in years.

When she opened her eyes, she was in her bed. Marita, John, and Jamie were staring worriedly down at her. "Ann? Are you okay?" John asked. He actually sounded worried. 

She tried to sit up, but felt dizzy. "What happened?"

Marita held up the picture again, the one with Fox and Samantha and the tree. "You were looking at this and you just fell over... fainted, I guess. And I went and got John to get you down here, because if Mom and Dad found out we know about this stuff- that I know about this stuff, I'll have to explain it to you later- we'd be in big trouble."

"I remember that boy," Ann said. "I remember him laughing at me when I fell out of a tree... I remember that he was mean sometimes, but sometimes he was nice... like when I hurt my shoulder falling off a swing... but I don't know who he is."

Marita looked at the picture again. "He's your brother."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
11:15 A.M.

"Drawed shows are stupid, Lucas," Samantha said, arms crossed, glaring at her brother and daring him to argue over whether or not 'drawed shows', also known as cartoons, were stupid. Daina Kathryn glanced over her book to see if a real fight was going to start, then at Dana to see if she was going to stop it. But Dana was deep in conversation with Fox, bent over their files again. 

"Are not. I like them."

"ARE stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, just like you."

Lucas still didn't pull his gaze from the television, choosing instead of arguing to ignore her. So Samantha took another approach to the problem. "Fox, he won't let me watch any good stuff!"

It was Dana that looked up, not Fox. "Then go watch in the other room," she said.

Samantha considered this. It sounded a lot like giving in to Lucas to her, but she couldn't figure out exactly how. Finally, she sighed loudly and disappeared into the kids' room. 

Daina Kathryn sighed also, but it was of relief. She'd thought that Lucas and Samantha would be the perfect older siblings. After all, they had worked all their lives until a few months ago. But all Lucas ever wanted to do was watch TV or listen to the radio and Samantha liked nothing better than to start a fight with somebody. Daina Kathryn HATED fights. 

She went back to her book. It was finally getting exciting, just like Dana said it would. She whispered the words to herself as she read them, imagining herself on the Pequod in place of Ishmael, with Queequeg and Starbuck and Stubb and Captain Ahab... she almost trembled at the idea. 

Melissa had told her, a long time ago, about how Dana and her father, Daina Kathryn's grandfather, had called each other Starbuck and Ahab. She wished Dana- or Fox- would do something like that with her. But she was just Daina Kathryn, or D. Boring, boring, boring.

And suddenly EVERYTHING seemed boring. She needed to get out of the motel room. "Mom?"

Dana looked up again. She looked exhausted, Daina Kathryn saw. Was being an FBI agent really that hard? "What?"

"When're we going somewhere?"

"I don't know..."

"I saw a toy store downtown," Fox spoke up, never taking his eyes off the paper before him. "It's not real far, we could walk."

Daina Kathryn doubted there could be anything at a TOY STORE of any interest to her, but there was always that chance... and it would get them out of this stuffy little room. "Okay," she said.

Fox nodded slowly. "We'll go in just a little while. Let me check on one more thing." And he was again immersed in his stuff. Dana followed him. 
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
3:30 P.M.

Marita finished explaining everything she had discovered in the attic. "So Ann isn't really Ann... she's Samantha Mulder."

"But you said I was your sister... you never told me I was adopted," Ann muttered, more to herself than anyone else in the room. Jamie was watching her with wide, worried eyes, but John looked a little skeptical.

"How do you know that's what it meant?" he asked. "Just because Dad wanted to take in a little girl... Ann... whose family was having problems doesn't mean he's involved in any government conspiracy."

"Then how come they didn't just tell Fox, then? Why did they make him think she was... was... abducted by aliens?!" Marita demanded. 

John shrugged. "How should I know?"

"Just don't tell anybody, okay?"

"Sure... don't know who I'd tell, but sure," John said. 

"Jamie, you can't either."

Jamie nodded slowly, never taking his eyes of Ann, who had her eyes closed and seemed to be struggling against tears. 

"Good, then. I'm going to put this stuff up before Dad finds out we have it." Marita left, and John soon followed, still mumbling something about conspiracies and Watergate.

But Jamie sat down on the bed beside Ann. "Do you really think you have a brother and everything somewhere, besides me and John?" he asked quietly, unsure of himself for one of the very few times in his 8 years of life. 

She opened her eyes, looked at him for a moment, then sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "I don't know."

"If... if you do... would you quit loving us?" Love wasn't something the Covarrubias family spent a lot of time talking about, and it was hard for him- especially hard, considering his age- to bring it up without making a lot of dumb jokes. 

"No," Ann said. "No, of course not. I barely remember him. He probably doesn't remember me at all."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
11:35 A.M.

Samantha laughed as she dodged away from Lucas, who had half-heartedly reached for her when she wouldn't quit poking his arm. "Slow!" she called. 

Fox, walking a short distance behind them with Dana and Daina Kathryn, holding the former's hand loosely, watched them with a feeling of memories that hadn't surfaced in years coming back. Samantha- his Samantha- had done the same thing with him, teasing him until he was ready to kill her. 

"She's a lot like your sister, isn't she? Besides looks, I mean," Dana said as if reading his thoughts, squeezing his hand. 

He squeezed back. "Yeah, she is. But the tests show we do have similar DNA, similar genes. She IS Samantha."

"Did Samantha like to get arguments started with you the way she does with Lucas?"

"Yeah, she did. And she did it often, too. Dad hated it; it was about the only thing he DIDN'T like about her. Everything else, it was perfect."

"Was she perfect?" Daina Kathryn spoke up. She was holding Dana's other hand, like she often did. Fox had never met a kid who loved their parent more than Daina Kathryn loved Dana, but he guessed that could be expected. When he was younger- MUCH younger, as in before Samantha had disappeared- he'd gone through periods of time when he wanted nothing more than to please his parents. But it had been much harder for him than for Daina Kathryn. If he'd had Dana for his mother- scary thought, but just an IF- he had a feeling he would have turned out much differently. 

"No, she wasn't," he said. "She was just like any other little kid. But sometimes parents have a hard time seeing the flaws in their children."

"I'm not perfect, either," Daina Kathryn said, so solemnly that Fox couldn't help but smile.

"But you're pretty close," he said, and the grin she rewarded him with was worth more than any words.

"Samantha, STOP!" Lucas finally called from up ahead, nearly succeeding in ruining the mood. And Samantha's laughter again filled the air as she danced in circles around him. 

"Make me," she said, and he made a move to grab her. She didn't even flinch, completely trusting. That was different, different from the first Samantha. From the time she was a tiny little girl showered with love and affection from both her parents to right before she disappeared, when they'd distanced themselves because they knew they weren't going to have much longer with her, she'd been suspicious of everybody. 

"Is that the store?" Daina Kathryn asked, squinting to try to read the signs on the buildings far in the distance.

"That's it," Fox said. 

"Can I run ahead and get there first?"

"Sure, go ahead."
 
And she was off, running past Lucas and Samantha, who immediately took off after her. Samantha was still laughing.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
11:40 A.M.

Daina Kathryn reached the toy store just a few second before Lucas and Samantha, who were actually racing each other, big surprise. She went in the open door and found herself in something exactly like one of the stories she'd read about people living a long, long time ago, like a hundred years. It was about a little boy whose parents had a store that sold toys, but he never got any because they couldn't afford them.

This store was just like she had imagined that one would be. It was small and kind of dark inside and it smelled nice. Like wood, or stuff you put on wood to polish it. She loved it immediately, letting the air of it envelop her. 

Still, she could hear Lucas and Samantha somewhere else, as noisy as always, and other little kids crying or whining because they couldn't have something. Kids from a hundred years ago had PROBABLY whined just as much as kids did now, but they never did in stories. The sounds kept Daina Kathryn firmly anchored in the present. 

She walked slowly through the store, down row after row of shelves piled high with dolls and wooden cars and even some puppets- marionettes, she though they were called- that she couldn't resist stopping to pick up and examine. 

She was still wandering, lost in thought, when someone started screaming. Immediately her head jerked in the direction of the sound and she was running that way, looking down rows for the source of the screams. She finally found it in the very back of the store, where a little boy was struggling to get his shoe out of some kind of weird boot. Daina Kathryn could see immediately what had happened- the boot was too small for him, but he'd tried to get his foot in anyway. He looked about 5, a year older than Daina Kathryn was. 

Dana showed up seconds later, followed closely by Fox. She went to the screaming child and tried to calm him down while at the same time twisting the stubborn boot off his foot. By the time she'd accomplished this, a small crowd had gathered, including the boy's mother, who was standing next to Dana, looking very worried. As soon as the boy was free, she grabbed him and hugged him so tightly that Daina Kathryn wondered if she'd thought he was dying.

"Thank you so much," she said to Dana. 

Dana put a hand on the boy's back as he clung to his mother. "You might want to take him to the hospital for X-rays, to make sure the bone's not broken or cracked."

"I... I can't afford any of that... he'll be fine..." the woman sounded embarrassed.

"I'm a doctor," Dana said, trying her best to sympathize. She'd never been in a situation when money was so tight that an injured child couldn't be taken to a hospital. "If you'd let me look at him..."

The woman looked at her. "Would you?"

"Well, not here... I'm here on business, if you could bring him back to our motel room, I'd be glad to."

Fox stepped forward then. "Would you like me to carry him?" he asked, and, as the woman he'd literally run into that morning stared at him, smiled and said, "Nice to see you again."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
11:50 A.M.

Dana carefully pulled the boy's shoe off and pressed the bones in his ankle. "Does that hurt?" she asked him.

He was watching what she was doing with curious eyes that almost reminded her of the look Mulder got when he saw something that interested him. "No," he said.

"I think he's okay," she said, helping him put his shoe back on and getting up off the floor. 

"Thank you so much," the woman said. "He doesn't have to buy the toys, he just likes to look at them... I never thought he could get hurt in a toy store."

"You can never be sure, with kids," Fox said. "They could get hurt walking down the street."

"I see that." She seemed to have relaxed a little as she saw that her son was okay and to have warmed up to them, or at least to Fox, who'd kept her occupied while Dana checked the little boy. "My name is Ann Cantson... well, Ann Covarrubias."

Fox's mouth dropped. "Did you say your last name is Covarrubias?"

Dana raised an eyebrow; the woman- Ann- looked confused. "Yes..."

"Do you know... do you know of anyone named Marita?"

"Yes I do. She's... she's my sister. Do you know her?"

Daina Kathryn had slipped into the room and was leaning against the wall. She and her siblings had been told to stay in their room, but Dana didn't tell her to leave. Chances were, she'd been listening to the whole conversation. 

"She is... was... an acquaintance," Fox explained. "But she disappeared, about a year and a half ago."

Now Ann was nodding vigorously. "Do you have any idea where she might be?" she asked.

"No. But I was thinking you might."

"Only that neither of our brothers have heard from her, either."

"Mommy, I'm TIRED," the little boy whined, tugging on Ann's arm. Dana saw Daina Kathryn make a face, and knew exactly how she felt. Whiny kids were the worst kind.

"I know, Adam, I know," Ann said. She smiled apologetically at Fox and Dana. "We'd better be going. Thanks again for checking his ankle."

"Well, if it swells or anything, you need to get it checked out," Dana said.

"We'll probably be here another week, at least. Call the hotel, and ask for one of us, and we'll do whatever we can to help," said Fox.

Ann smiled again. "I'm... I'm sorry, but I don't know your names."

"Fox and Dana Mulder."

And Ann, who'd been ushering Adam out the door, stopped suddenly and turned back. "Did you say your name is Fox Mulder?"

"Uh-huh. Fox Mulder. Why?"

"Nothing... never mind..." and she was gone, pulling Adam along faster than she could walk.

"Strange woman," Dana said. "Seems almost mentally unstable, paranoid."
>>>>>>>>

JUNE 1, 1977
9:30 P.M.

"Hey, Ann?" Marita whispered into the dark. She wasn't sure if Ann was already asleep or not. Ann had spent the rest of the afternoon in their room, staring at the picture of Samantha- herself- and Fox, the last one, the one she wouldn't let Marita put up. 

"What?" came the small reply, muffled by the pillow Ann had her face in. Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Marita could see the picture still clutched in her hand, hanging over the side of the bed.

Marita sat on her own bed, facing what she could see of Ann- the hand and her thick, dark hair. "I'm sorry," she said. It sounded pathetic, but she didn't know what else she could say.

Ann sat up after a moment of consideration and Marita could see her eyes were red where she'd been crying. She met Marita's worried eyes for a moment, then turned her gaze down to the smiling faces of Fox and Samantha.

"They look happy," Ann said softly.

Marita held out her hand and Ann gave it to her, a little reluctantly. "Yeah, they do," she agreed.

"Fox was 12 years old. Our age," Ann continued, like she hadn't even heard Marita. "And I... Samantha... I was 8. It's been 4 years since that picture was taken, probably 4 years since we've been that happy." She paused for a moment as the tears started. "I don't think we'll ever be that happy again."

Marita wasn't the physical type; none of the Covarrubias' were. But at the sight of her sister- her adopted sister, yes, and sister of only 4 years- finally breaking down from all the pain and terror and lies that had been thrust at her that day, she had to do something.

She reached out and took Ann's hand, just holding it while she cried.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
12:30 P.M.

"Okay, the kids can stay with you, right?" Dana asked, trying not to let her exhaustion show. The children she'd insisted on brining, that she'd been so adamant about not leaving with Melissa, were quickly becoming burdens. She had been talked into doing the autopsy on Chris Harbings , and of course she couldn't take Lucas, Samantha, and Daina Kathryn THERE. And Fox wanted to get more interviews done, with the parents of Donald Barker and Catherine Canpey.

Fox, like he had been doing for the better part of the day, was buried in files, including the one that had just come as a special delivery on Chris Harbings. "Sure," he muttered, though Dana doubted he'd heard a word she'd said.

"I'm leaving then," she said, a little louder, but he just nodded.

It was Daina Kathryn, stretched out on the bed she'd claimed the night before and appearing as lost in Moby Dick as Fox was in his work, that Dana got a reaction from. 

"Where are you going?"

Dana scrambled for an answer that wouldn't be a lie. "Ah... to check on something."

"What?"

Dana remembered asking millions of questions for HER parents to answer and knowing perfectly well they were giving her the same half-truth answers she was giving Daina Kathryn and how that had only made her bug them twice as long.

"To do an autopsy. I'm going to do an autopsy."

"Oh," said Daina Kathryn, and that was all there was to it. She had no interest in autopsies.
>>>>>>>>

MAY 8, 1979
3:00 P.M.

John was trying not to look like a guy that was a junior in high school stuck picking up his eighth-grade, middle-school sisters. Marita, between jerking Ann along to try and make her hurry up, made sure to wave at him and grin widely.

She as still grinning when she got in the car, leaning out before she shut the door to yell at Ann, who looked slightly lost as she wandered in their direction.

It was obvious, and had been for almost 2 years, to John, Marita, and even Jamie, that Ann had never gotten completely over the truth about the missing 8 years of her life. But then, none of them, though it was never discussed, had really gotten over it. They'd just managed to go on with their lives, to put it out of their minds.

But Ann hadn't been able to do that. Her innocent trust had been betrayed, and she felt now that she'd wasted her years with the Covarrubias' living a lie. She wanted nothing more than to find somebody who knew the truth, but could be trusted. 

Marita couldn't really believe that there was anybody like that out there, even if she told Ann differently during their late-night whispering. If her own father thought the truth should be kept secret, if Ann's father felt the same way, could there really be someone out there who knew AND would talk about it?

Ann was finally in the car, lost in her 13-year-old thoughts. Most 13-year-olds, though, would have had their minds on a boy or the latest rumor they'd heard about a guy they didn't like. But Ann was intent on picking through her own brain, searching for memories of her life as Samantha.

A handful- very small, but still SOMETHING- of things from her life before had come back to her and she'd told them to Marita, desperate to tell SOMEBODY about a part someone had tried to make her forget.

"I remember the day this picture was taken," had been the first, or at least the first she'd told Marita about. She meant the last picture, the one she kept hidden under the mattress of her bed. "It was the day before Halloween, this was taken at my uncle's house. He grew pumpkins and sold them, but he always saved the biggest one for me and Fox. Dad was in a good mood that day, which he almost never was anymore, and he told Mom to bring the camera. That tree was the tree that Uncle Tony said he had a clubhouse in when he was a little boy and him and his friends threw water balloons at Mom."

Then, almost 4 months later, had come another one. "I remember one Christmas. When I was 6 years old. Me and Fox begged and begged and begged Dad for a puppy, even though we already had a dog. He was getting old. And we were so excited because Dad said 'maybe' and not 'no.' That usually meant 'yes.' Only on Christmas Day, there was no puppy. He said he couldn't find any cheap enough ones, even though Fox had looked through newspapers and found where they had them for free."

And the last complete one just 6 months ago. "We went to visit Dad's brother, Art, in New York City. I was so big I was scared I'd get lost the whole time. But I didn't. Fox almost did. He was always daydreaming and he wandered off even though Dad warned him not to. But Uncle Art found him."

That was all she had, not counting the fragments of events or pieces of conversations. And for some reason, to Marita, that seemed worse than the fact that it had happened at all.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
1:30 P.M.

Dana had taken the car, since the closest hospital was in the next town. Not more than a 20-minute drive, but too far to walk. So it was Fox who walked, trailed by the three kids, to the home of Donald Barker's parents and 6-year-old sister. 

"Is this like that lady we talked to yesterday?" Samantha asked, for a change not having to stop and think before stringing the words together. She was making progress.

Fox turned to look at her, but quickly turned away. At first, just the sight of this little girl, with her dark braids and her eyes almost brimming over with the laughter she tried to hide and even the haunted horror of an almost stolen childhood hanging over her, had brought up ancient, buried memories of his sister. But it had finally stopped; at least until he had looked at her just now and for a moment had been 12 again.

"Well?" Samantha demanded, completely oblivious to his discomfort.

"Yeah," Fox said, even though he was no longer sure of the question.

Samantha stuck out her tongue. "I don't like. They're boring," she said, then ran back to where Lucas and Daina Kathryn were deep in conversation.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
1:35 P.M.

13-year-old Dave didn't look up from his stretched-out position on the couch when his mom and the brat got back. "'Bout time," was all he said, eyes glued to one of his many horror movies on TV.

Adam, his annoying 5-year-old half-brother (and he'd never let anyone forget the half part), pulled on his mother's arm. "Dave's watching the scary movies again!" he whispered urgently.

"Not while your brother's around," Ann Covarrubias repeated for about the three-thousandth time that week.

Dave kicked the TV and the screen went black, then he walked back to his room in the way rebellious teenagers do, slowly and leaning against the trailer's walls like he was trying to stay in shadow. "And he's NOT my brother!" he yelled before slamming the door.

Ann sighed and sat on the couch her older son had just abandoned. Adam curled up next to her, putting his thumb in his mouth and contentedly sucking it like she'd told him so many times to stop doing. Right now, she didn't have the strength.

Her eyes wandered over the cheap place, which she'd done her best to fix up after her second husband died and she'd had to sell the house and most of what was in it.

Her gaze came to rest on the object so carefully placed on the table beside the TV. A picture. A picture of a group of children, one no older than maybe 13, another about 9, and the littlest about 5. They all had light blond hair, and the last child- almost exactly the same age as the 9-year-old girl- was a stark contrast, with her solemn eyes and dark hair. As if she'd seen more than any child could possibly bear to see. As if she'd seen enough that she could no longer remember all of it.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
1:40 P.M.

Fox checked the scrap of paper where he'd written down the Barkers' address as he stood at the edge of the short, dead-end street. "Be on the lookout for number 103," he said.

"Bet I can find it very first!" Samantha cried, just like he'd hoped she would, and Lucas accepted the challenge, running after her.

Daina Kathryn chose to look alone, crossing the street and walking slowly by each house, examining it for a moment before reading the number and moving on. And, of course, she found it first- Lucas and Samantha were too busy racing each other to the end of the road.

Fox was still on the same side of the street, looking at every house even though he knew the Barkers' were on Daina Kathryn's side- his numbers were even- when she found it. "Hey, Fox! Here it is!" she yelled.

He took his time getting to her, knowing Lucas and Samantha would take theirs, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Good job, D."

She looked pleased and he was reminded again just how little it took to make her happy. Like with the toy store that morning. Samantha had started begging to go back the minute Ann Covarrubias and her son had left, and Lucas had joined her with the sudden remembrance of something he'd seen that he just HAD to have.

It was normal behavior for 7- and 10-year-old kids to want toys, to be kept entertained. Fox could very clearly remember he and Samantha attacking their mother for hours to go HERE or THERE until she was exhausted and gave in.

But it was just as normal for a 4-year-old. Especially a 4-year-old who'd never had anything, suddenly surrounded by siblings and parents, a mother who would rather die than see her injured. Proof of that had been her gunshot wound in Canada.

And yet Daina Kathryn almost never asked for anything. Fox had seen her in the toy store, wandering past everything as if in a trance. Soaking it all in, like the memories she would have of it were more important than anything she could buy. Occasionally running her hand over or picking up something.

Fox had been as intrigued by the place as Daina Kathryn. It wasn't the kind of store you came across in a tiny town in Texas. Seeing it crammed among the places selling cowboy hats and T-shirts, a desperate attempt to draw tourists to the fading town, had been a complete surprise. It was more the kind of place he expected to see at home, in Chilmark.

The word Dana had used was "quaint." She'd obviously liked it, too, thought it didn't hold the same sentimental value for her, a California native, that it did for him.

"Good job," he repeated. He could see Lucas and Samantha now, racing each other back.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 4, 1979
8:00 P.M.

Jamie's face was glued to the window, every cell in his 10-year-old brain focused on the fireworks they could easily see from the house. John was old enough this year to help with it and Jamie had begged for days to go, but John had said there was no way he was going to show up with his baby brother. So Jamie was where he always wound up, watching with his sisters.

Marita was watching, also, but her mind was mostly on Ann, who looked as entranced as Jamie but was probably lost in some daydream. Ann had always been a little spacey, more so in the past few years, and it had gotten worse than ever in the month since school got out. She was always staring off at nothing or at her picture of Fox and Samantha or writing in the little notebook she carried around all the time.

"I wonder if Fox ever watched fireworks with me. Maybe we had hamburgers and Cokes and sat at a picnic table in the backyard on the Fourth... but I think I remember the backyard, and I don't remember a picnic table. There was a swing, though, " she said, thinking aloud.

Jamie glanced at her, but even the idea that he might have a sister who was crazy wasn't enough to pull him away from the lights. 

"Did you like the swing?" Marita prompted, because when Ann came up with a whole memory, she was usually with it long enough to give Marita all the details.

"Yeah..." Ann said, then paused. "Yeah, I loved it. But I remember it... it hurt me..." she closed her eyes, obviously thinking hard. "Fox was pushing me on it... I guess I was about 6... he was pushing me... he almost never did that... and I kept telling him to push me higher and my hands slipped..."

She stopped and touching the bone where her shoulder met her neck, her eyes still closed.

"Did you fall?" Marita asked.

"Yeah... I fell and... broke something. My collarbone. I had to wear a cast... Fox drew pictures on it. I liked them, but Dad got mad at him."

"Did you cry?" Jamie asked, He was still watching the fireworks, but obviously his mind wasn't on it. Crying was a big thing to him right then: did you cry, would I cry, would you cry if your best friend died?

Ann opened her eyes and looked at him. "Of course I did."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
1:50 P.M.

It took a while for someone to come to the door, long enough that Daina Kathryn got bored, though she didn't say anything about it. This was work, it was what Fox did, and he probably needed to concentrate.

She wondered exactly WHY they were here. She'd read the case details Fox had written, and it said nobody had seen anything. At least, not anybody in the family.

A woman who looked as if she had been through a war finally opened the door. She would have been pretty, Daina Kathryn decided, if she hadn't looked so exhausted.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Even her voice sounded tired. This woman had obviously been through almost more than she could handle.

"I'm Special Agent Mulder, with the FBI," Fox said. Daina Kathryn could see her was about to launch into his we-just-need-to-ask-you-a-few-questions speech when the woman spoke again.

"This is about Donald, isn't it?"

"Um, yes. I'd just like-"

She sighed. "I'm his mother." She stepped back to let them inside.

"Is your husband home? Or your daughter?" Fox asked as she led them into the living room.

"My husband's still at work, but my daughter- Carry- is up in her room."

"Could you call her, please?"

"What could you possibly talk to a 6-year-old girl who was so severely traumatized we had to get her therapy after her brother's death about?"

"We just need to ask her a few simple questions."

She didn't look very happy, but Mrs. Barker got up form the seat she'd taken and went to the staircase. "Carry! Some people here that want to talk to you!" She rejoined Fox, Lucas, Samantha, and Daina Kathryn. "Now, I want you to be real careful what you ask about. Like I said, she was traumatized-"

She was cut off by the appearance of Donald's sister Carry in the doorway. She was grinning at the sight of someone to talk to. Daina Kathryn's first thought was" she doesn't LOOK very traumatized.

"Hi!" Carry said, in a bubbly, cheery voice that obviously belonged to a future cheerleader. "My name's Carry Maria Barker. I'm 6 years old. Who're you guys?"

Samantha caught Daina Kathryn's eye and made a face; Lucas was trying not to laugh. Even Fox looked a little startled at this kid's directness.

"Uh..." Fox cleared his throat. 'Uh, my name is Fox Mulder. I'm an FBI agent. And these are my children..." he paused and Daina Kathryn knew he'd seen her happy smile at that last statement. "Lucas, Samantha, and Daina Kathryn."

Carry came into the room and stuck her face in Daina Kathryn's. Daina Kathryn, the expression on her face a prefect copy of Dana's when she was beginning to get annoying, managed to stare her down.

"You're little," Carry said as she blinked and pulled away. Daina Kathryn raised her Scully-eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Sit down, please, Carry," Mrs. Barker said, reaching out for her daughter. She didn't seem to care how rude Carry was being. "You know how weak you get."

Carry rolled her eyes and for a moment Daina Kathryn could almost feel sorry for her. The death of Donald had obviously affected the Barkers more than Kimberly Harbings' death had affected her family.

When Carry did as asked, Fox started his questions, asking Mrs. Barker first. Daina Kathryn concentrated on every word.
>>>>>>>>

JANUARY 21, 1980
8:45 P.M.

The house felt lonely, Ann thought, as she stared blankly into the fire. Her parents and Marita had gone to see Jamie's school play, but she'd turned her invitation down. She had too much homework, she said.

She didn't have any homework. She'd just felt out of place lately. She knew that it was natural for teenagers to feel that way, but she had a reason to feel out of place. She WAS out of place. She didn't feel as though she belonged with the Covarrubias'; every time she looked at the man she called 'Dad', she couldn't help thinking that he really wasn't. She wasn't letting him be.

The picture of Fox and Samantha was in her hand, instead of its usual place hidden in her room. She wanted so badly to be a part of that carefree life again. To be a part of a family and not have to worry about whether or not they really wanted her.

Had the Covarrubias' really wanted her? John, Marita, and Jamie had known she was adopted, even if she hadn't for years- had they liked the idea of that little 8-year-old girl she'd been at the time just dropping into their lives and becoming a permanent part of it?

Jamie probably didn't remember life without her. He'd been, after all, only 3 years old when he first saw her, in the hospital that long ago day. And when he'd first been told they were going to adopt a new little girl, a girl Marita's age, that had probably meant nothing to him. He hadn't gotten any younger brothers or sisters like John and Marita had. 

Marita, most likely, had been excited at the idea. Making friends was like a game to her. If she met someone she thought she'd like, she would make it her life's goal to get them to like her, too. That was why she had so many friends, one of the most popular girls in school. Ann could just picture her excitement at learning she was going to get a new, live-in friend.

And John... she wasn't so sure about John. He would remember before she'd been there, and probably knew the most about what was going on. Suspected there was something wrong with a little girl who had no memory of her life before then that they had to lie to for maybe forever. He'd always been the most distant from Ann, but when she'd said something about it to Marita, Marita had just snorted and said John was always like that. Ann wasn't so sure.

Then they'd learned the real truth, all of them. And the link she'd slowly been connecting to the Covarrubias', the one that made her a part of the family, had been severed as easily as her connections to the Mulder family had been.

Why shouldn't she be part of a family, like practically everybody else on the whole planet? For years, she'd been trying to keep herself as a part of the Mulder's, even though obviously they didn't care about her anymore. She'd distanced herself from her adoptive family, even though they'd tried their hardest to let her accept them. If she would let them, they'd let her in, without a second thought.

She glanced one final time at the picture of the smiling boy and girl, then, as tears filled her eyes, tossed it into the fire. The last thing she saw before the flames consumed it and the tears consumed her was the face of Fox Mulder, his features burned so that instead of smiling he seemed to be staring at her accusingly. She pulled her legs to her chest, put her face on her knees, and sobbed with both joy and sorrow.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
2:00 P.M.

"Do you remember Donald acting at all out of the ordinary just before his abdu- disappearance?" Fox asked. He glanced at Carry while Mrs. Barker pursed her lips and seemed to be thinking. Carry was playing with a pencil she'd found, making light lines up and down her arm and little noises as she did.

"No," Mrs. Barker finally said.

"Did you see him talking to a strange man? Or a delivery or postman?"

"We have a very friendly postman... Bob. Donald and Carry both loved him, they waited for him just about every day. But he wasn't a stranger. We've known him for years."

Fox let this soak in. He'd finally found what could very possibly be a lead. There had been numerous cases of rape and murder he'd worked on where the victim had "known" a man holding a menial or delivery job; they'd simply invited him in for a cup of coffee or a short visit in the winter without considering just how little they really knew about this person. And with an 11-year-old boy might let a man he knew who showed up at night in, not stopping to think of it as anything out of the ordinary. 

"Where would I find this... Bob?"

"Oh, I don't know... most likely at work right about now. Our mail usually gets her about now."

Fox forced a smile. "Thanks for your time. If we need anything else, we'll come back." He stood up, and the kids did as well, not quite unable to hide the look of relief on their faces.

"What about Carry?" Mrs. Barker asked.

"I think we have everything we need to know."

"Well, if you didn't need to talk to her, I don't see why you had to make sure she was down here..." Mrs. Barker got up, but didn't take them to the door. Instead, she went into another room, still mumbling to herself, with Carry following close behind. Carry turned to wave at them and smile again.

"We're going to look for the postman, aren't we, Fox?" Daina Kathryn asked.

"Right."

"I don't think he did it."

Fox held open the door for her and Lucas and Samantha to get out. He tried to hide amusement. There might be a good reason for Daina Kathryn's doubt, but it was still a little funny to hear this little kid, barely older than a baby, expressing such grave doubt. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It just doesn't sound very likely. He was the first person you asked about, just a delivery person or something like that. That makes him a likely person to blame... suspect?... and if he was friends with those kids, he'd know they'd think of him when one of them died, so he wouldn't do it because of that..." she stopped, biting her lip, trying to think of how she could explain this to Fox. "I just... I just don't think he did it. 'Cause it would be too obvious. He would hide the body or somethin'."

"You might be right, D. Why don't we just talk to him and make sure he doesn't know anything. Maybe Donald said something to him or something like that."

She still looked as if she was thinking hard about something. She probably wanted to solve this by herself; Fox knew when he'd first been stuck following Patterson around he'd wanted nothing more than to solve the case before the 'head man' did. Only Fox had done it. And no matter how smart, how mature, how thoughtful she was, he didn't think a 4-year-old girl was going to be able to solve a murder case before anyone else did. Especially not with what they had now. 
>>>>>>>>

SEPTEMBER 16, 1983
8:30 A.M.

Marita sighed and pushed hair out of her face, wishing she'd thought to pull it back before she finished her packing. Or that she'd finished packing last night, like her mother and Ann had suggested. Or a lot of other things that would make this day 10 times easier. 

"I don't think you can get much more in there," Ann said. She was obviously struggling not to laugh at her sister, ready to go off to college that afternoon and still not packed. 

Ann had opted against college, saying she didn't think she'd be able to leave home. Marita wondered about that, about what had happened to Ann the last few years. First she'd wondered about what had happened to her before the Covarrubias' adopted her, then she'd found out and cherished the memories she had of before, then she'd seemed to lose all interest and when Ann or Jamie brought up the name 'Fox' she had to think for a minute before remembering that they were referring to a person, not an animal. 

Marita really had no problem with it, the spacey, quiet Ann had suddenly turned into a much more outgoing, friendly one when she let herself forget about Fox and her other parents and her life as Samantha. She'd taken an interest in things, in family, and had apparently become so attached to them, to life, to Sunflower, that she didn't want to leave. 

"Well, I was planning on putting you in next, so you'd better hope there is," Marita said, the best comeback she could come up with without a lot of thought.

A giggle escaped then. "Oh, really?"

"I guess not, because I think you're right." Marita was putting most of her weight on the bag now, but the zipper still wouldn't quite go. "Jeez, I wish John was here. He could always get these things to shut."

"It's not physically possible, M'ita! Give up!" Ann said, then rolled over so she was on her stomach, putting her head in her pillow to try to hide her laughter. 

Marita grabbed her own pillow and whacked her a few times, then went back to her stubborn clothing. "I should find that brother Fox of yours and ask why we're the ones cursed to deal with you."

Ann's laughter stopped, but she was still grinning when she looked up. "I wonder what happened to him, don't you?"

"I sure do. He was cute."

"Maybe he's a famous actor who changed his name."

"What, you think he's cute, too?"

"A little, I guess."

"Eww!" Marita made the most disgusted face she could make. "There's something wrong when you think your own brother's cute!"

Ann giggled again. "Shut up. He's not really my brother, anyway."

"Could've fooled me. Your nose looks just like his."

"Shut UP!" It was Ann's turn to grab a pillow and make a few half-hearted throws in the direction of her sister. 

When she was finished, Marita suddenly turned serious. "I could find him for you."

"Oh, yeah? And how could you do that?"

"I don't know. I'd find a way."

"Good luck!"

And they were both laughing again. Ann thought it was a joke; that was obvious. But Marita was dead serious. She wanted to find the boy- he was a man now, she realized when she thought about it- named Fox Mulder who'd lost his sister over 10 years before. 
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
2:30 P.M.

The kids, especially Samantha, were obviously tiring of walking the dusty, hot streets of Sunflower, Texas, in search of an elusive postman named Bob. But Fox wasn't quite ready to give in to their unspoken pleas for a break from FBI-work. The town was small enough that they'd covered most of it already, he didn't see why they couldn't just go ahead and finish the rest of it before going to the post office to ask.

"We have walked lots of miles, at least," Lucas said, which Fox translated to mean they'd walked a long way. 

"I walked farther when we were going to Canada," Daina Kathryn replied. She was purposely kicking up little clouds of dust by scuffing her feet along the sidewalk. Her bare toes were covered by a later of the dust that Fox knew Dana would probably not be too happy about. 

"That's where we came from," Lucas said. "Canada."

"Hey, yeah!" Samantha said. " I 'member that!"

"Mom got shot. And a man was going to shoot me, but another nice man named Alex shot him instead," Daina Kathryn said.

Fox let them continue their conversation on their own, not even commenting on Daina Kathryn's idea that this Alex- Alex Krycek- was a 'nice man.' 

"We got on a thing like plane and fly... flew 'way," Lucas said.

Daina Kathryn smiled patiently, more like an older sibling to a much younger one than vice versa. "Helicopter."

"Yeah, helicopter."

"Hey, Fox, do you remember that?" Daina Kathryn was at his side now, tugging his arm to get his attention.

"Remember what?" he asked, as if he hadn't been listening.

"Remember when Mom got shot and we got to ride on the helicopter with Mr. Skinner and Uncle Bill?"

He nodded. "I remember."

"Can we do that again sometime?"

"What, let your mom get shot and then have to escape on a helicopter, only to be chewed out by, uh... Mr. Skinner as soon as she's okay again?"

Daina Kathryn laughed and started to say something, but it was Samantha who answered his question. "No, silly, fly on helicopter!"
>>>>>>>>

NOVEMBER 22, 1987
3:00 P.M.

She'd been at the job for less than a year, and already had managed to work her way up to respectable position. A position that included a database of everyone in the country who worked for the government. She almost smiled as she sat at the desk for the first time, turning on the computer. Computers were such a wonderful idea, especially a computer for everyday use. You could probably do just about anything in the world using one, if you wanted to take the time.

Still, what she was trying to do was a long shot.

She turned on the machine, the first computer she'd ever had for her uses only. She wasn't sure she'd know how to do anything once it was on, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it appeared. She typed in the set of directions that had been left for her for accessing the database and the program opened, just like that!

She DID smile now. And clicked on the box beside the space labeled NAME. Slowly, she typed, delaying what she knew would be almost an inevitable negative.

MULDER, FOX WILLIAM.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:00 P.M.

Dana sighed as she pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail and collapsed in a chair in the hospital's tiny cafeteria. A few doctors that had been busy during the regular lunch around were around; most reviewing work or talking to friends over the remains of their meal.

She hadn't eaten, either, there had been no chance to do so between getting the kids to their toy store, taking care of the little boy, Adam, and doing the autopsy. But she'd opted not to eat now, never knowing when they were going to call her back in to look at just one more thing on the body of Chris Harbings, so she just drank a cup of cold, bitter coffee and wished she could go home. She felt a headache coming on.

Chris had died of a gunshot wound almost point blank through the heart. And even if it hadn't hit his heart, it would have hit a lung or, most likely, caused enough massive internal bleeding to kill anyone. There was no alien abduction, or whatever it was Fox believed to be happening now, involved. Chris' death had nothing to do with the other kids.

She tried not to make a face as she took another sip of the coffee. For a long time, she'd thought the FBI's coffee- or at least the coffee Fox made sure they had in the basement, he either loved it or was addicted to it- was the worst in the world. She'd obviously been wrong.

With a sigh and yet another miserable sip, she closed her mind to the world around her and everything but the autopsy she'd just performed. There wasn't anything she thought she'd missed, but as long as she had to wait, she might as well make sure.
>>>>>>>>

NOVEMBER 22, 1987
3:10 P.M.

She'd been sitting there for a full 5 minutes without moving, just staring in shock at the screen in front of her. It took a lot to shock Marita Covarrubias, who had fought her way through college in the 'for the boys' classes. But this had. 

She'd found a match.

====================================
NAME: MULDER, FOX WILLIAM
DOB: 10/13/61
CURRENT OCCUPATION: SPECIAL AGENT, FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, 
		VIOLENT CRIMES DIVISION

And there was a picture, a grainy, black-and-white picture of the same boy from the photo her sister Ann had carried for so many years. He was older, obviously older, but Marita still couldn't help but think, as she had so long ago in her almost-12-year-old innocence, that he was kind of good looking.

And he worked at the FBI. THAT was a surprise. Ann was still in Sunflower, struggling as a teacher with a year-old son named David. Her husband was still around- Marita hadn't given the marriage a year, but they'd gone almost 2 now-, but he didn't do much except watch TV and drink, when they had the money for it. How had two siblings turned out so differently, one achieving so much, one stuck in the worst nightmare of most women?

Oh, well, there was another box to click for more information on the individual- including, Marita hoped, how to get in contact with them. What good were the name, birthday, and job of every government worker in the country if there was no way to get in touch with them?

She clicked and a new screen opened. This one gave her a little more, hair color, eye color, parents names... She'd been scrolling down without really reading any of it, or not really taking it in if she did read it, but now she'd found something of interest. She'd found the right Fox William Mulder all right.

SIBLINGS: SAMANTHA ANN MULDER, 11/21/65 (CURRENT WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN)
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:15 P.M.

The young doctor sighed much as Dana Mulder, only a few rooms away, was doing at that very moment as she finished her coffee and tried to stay awake. But he wasn't tired, just bored. How had he been talked into a career in pathology, anyway? He didn't remember his parents offering their support, that was for sure!

He opened the file he'd been given on the dead kid, Chris Harbings. Name, age, sex, height, weight... the same old stuff. A picture, some other general background info on him and his family, the names of the doctors and law enforcement working on the murder case... same old stuff.

 Letting his eyes skim over it, he tried to absorb it all in. The speed reading classes hadn't done anything for him... he just wasn't as smart as some of the others around here... not that Sunflower was known for producing high IQ...

His eyes stopped automatically on a name that caught his attention. Fox Mulder... he knew that. From long ago, probably 15 or 20 years... in his early childhood. 

Dr. Jamie Covarrubias reached over and picked up the phone.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:20 P.M.

In the other room, Fox could hear Lucas and Samantha fighting over what to watch on TV again. He could feel a headache coming on. And he could see Daina Kathryn sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, elbows on knees, appearing to be concentrating every ounce of energy on whatever she was thinking about.

He thought about asking her, but at the last moment remembered Dana's reactions when he interrupted her at the wrong time... He looked down at his notebook and the open file beside it and continued scribbling what they'd learned today, jotting down any connections he could come up with, as well. He couldn't come up with many, not until he had a chance to talk to this Postman Bob. 

"Hey, Fox?" Daina Kathryn said suddenly.

He looked over at her; she'd apparently figured out whatever it was she was trying to figure out, because her eyes were shining and she looked like she wanted to smile but wouldn't let herself. 

"What?"

Then she shook her head and the shine was gone. "Nothing. Never mind." And she went back to her thinking position while he went back to his file.
>>>>>>>>

NOVEMBER 22, 1987
3:15 P.M.

It took Marita almost 3 minutes to get up the courage to pick up the phone and call Ann at the home of her new husband. She'd considered calling the school, but Ann had lately gone home early- around lunch- to make sure her precious David was okay. And school was just getting out then... no, it was a couple of hours earlier in Texas... still, she'd try the home first.

It was that husband who answered the phone. "I need to speak with Ann," Marita said, as politely as she could manage with that son of a bitch who'd married her sister.

"Ain't here," he slurred, and the phone clicked in her ear.

She sighed and called the school. 

"This is the Sunflower, Texas, Elementary School, can I help you?" Marita recognized the voice of old Ms. Boreanna, who'd been the school's sole secretary since the day John had first entered Kindergarten. 

"Ms. Boreanna? This is Marita Covarrubias, you remember me?" Marita asked. She hoped she didn't sound as mocking as she had while attending the school.

There was a bark of laughter through the phone lines, not a good sign. "'Course I remember you, M'ita! Little terror! School's own personal vixen!" 

"Um, yes," Marita said, making a face. "That's me. I need you to get my sister, Ann... she's a teacher now, second grade... I need to talk to her... it's urgent..."

"Sure, I remember Ann, too! Quiet one, hard to b'lieve y'all could really be related... I'll go get her, you just wait where you are, hear?"

"Thanks, Ms. Boreanna."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:20 P.M.

"Death occurred because he was shot in the damn heart," Dana muttered as she read over the long, medical-jargon-filled paragraphs of the report on Chris Harbings. She understood it, certainly, but had never seen a purpose to using so many words to express something so simple- the kid had been shot.

She resisted the urge to put her head on the table and take a nap right then and there. She'd gotten plenty of sleep last night, but this day had already been filled with so much that she felt as though weeks had passed since she'd last gotten to rest. 

Toy stores, little boys with trapped feet, women Fox seemed to know named Ann Covarrubias, driving through what was practically desert, an autopsy, and now, sitting in a cafeteria with a headache, all before dinner time. 

And who knew what else this case would bring. Fox was back in Sunflower and adventure seemed to follow him- if there was trouble to be found, he'd find it and plunge in headfirst.
>>>>>>>>

NOVEMBER 22, 1987
3:15 P.M.

It took a few minutes, but Ann finally got to the phone with a tired, "Hi, Marita."

"Ann... are you sitting down?" It sounded stupid the minute she said it, but Marita couldn't take it back by then. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, considering the situation Ann was in.

Sure enough, Ann sighed. "Marita, please. I've got tests to grade..."

"Ann, do you remember... I found your brother."

"My brother?"

"Fox. Fox Mulder."

There was silence on the line for so long that Marita was about to hang up. Then: "No. I don't want anything to do with him. All that happened a long time ago, and by caring about him, about who he is and who he was, I'm living in a past I can't even remember."

"You don't even want to know where he's living. What he does?"

"No, I don't. Don't tell me." Ann hung up.

Marita hung up more slowly, then looked at the computer screen, still displaying the information she'd found on Fox Mulder. Ann, the same Ann who'd dedicated years of her childhood to remembering this Fox, had forgotten him completely. 

Or maybe not. Maybe she just didn't want to admit that he might be out there somewhere, that he might wonder about her as much as she had once wondered about him. 
>>>>>>>>


JULY 14, 1999
3:20 P.M.

Dr. Jamie Covarrubias held the phone away from his ear as his nephew dropped the phone and called, at the top of his lungs, "MOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!"

A few minutes later, Ann finally came to the phone. "Hello?"

"Ann, it's Jamie."

"Oh... hi. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Thanks. But I have some, uh..." he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad. "Some news." She didn't say anything, so he continued. "I did an autopsy today with a woman named Dana Mulder... and according to the file I got on the boy we examined, she's married to a Fox Mulder."

"So what?" she asked after she'd decided that was the whole story.

"Your brother. Fox Mulder? From... before you came to live with us? Back in the 70s?"

"Look, I really don't care if you've found him, Jamie. Marita's tried this trick a hundred times, and a hundred times I've told her- I DON'T WANT TO FIND HIM. He's dead, as far as I'm concerned."

From the background, Jamie could faintly hear the sounds of a fight. Could be the TV, could be Dave teasing his little brother again. Jamie had a sinking feeling it was the latter and he was about to be cut off.

"I didn't find him. He's there... he's in Sunflower."

A sharp intake of breath from Ann. "In Sunflower?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah. Staying at the motel. He's an FBI agent."

"Oh, God..." There was a pause, then, "I've got to go." And she hung up.
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:20 P.M.

Ann hung up the phone and put her hands together as if praying, trying to stop the trembling that was moving from her hands throughout her body. She took a deep, shaky breath. What was she going to do now? 

She'd figured for years, if she ever left Sunflower, went anyplace bigger, one of those places she and Marita had talked about long into the night about visiting and experiencing the glamour of, by some crazy coincidence Fox Mulder would find her and she'd have to confront... everything. So she'd stayed, had lived with the life of a teacher, with an abusive husband and then a wonderful one until the car accident... and had thought she was safe. Marita never figured out the truth, that Ann had no interest in facing up to her brother, even though she'd been told time and again...

He'd found her anyway. Or had stumbled onto her. 

Now what was she supposed to do?
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:25 P.M.

When she saw the young doctor approaching, Dana was sure she'd missed something and the pounding in her head came back full-force. 

"Excuse me... but you're a Dr. Dana Mulder, right?"

"Scully, actually, or at least most of the time... don't ask, long story... but yes, I am."

"So you are married? To a... Fox Mulder?"

"Yes..."

"I need to talk to you... may I sit down? This could take a while."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
3:40 P.M.

Dana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "So you're telling me this woman named Ann, who lives right here in Sunflower, is Fox's long lost sister? But she wants nothing to do with him?"

"She's terrified that she'll learn more than she wants to know. There's still a short period of time missing from her life. She came to live with us in late December, 1973, but she disappeared in late November. There's nearly a month missing from her life, and, according to the letters my sister M'ita found, there was some kind of test being done."

"I assure you, Fox knows no more about that than she does. It's his life's work to find Saman- Ann, to find out what they did to her. To know if she's okay."

"Would I... would we... we able to meet him?"

"Who's we?"

"Myself and Ann. Ann's a little... she hasn't had the easiest time in the last few years. Her husband was killed in a car wreck last year and the one before that was an alcoholic who turned abusive. She has two children, a 13-year-old who desperately needs the strict hand of a father and a 5-year-old who doesn't understand why his life was turned around or why his brother, in his acts of rebellion, seems to hate him."

"I think that could be arranged. I'd think Fox would be thrilled... but give us a few days and I'd need some proof that Ann is really his sister. He's been fooled before, and it's almost killed him. He was blamed for her disappearance- or they, his parents, made it look like they blamed him. I don't want that to happen again. We have 3 children, relatively new ones... give me your phone number, alright, and a few days, and I'll get in touch with you."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
4:10 P.M.

"You found WHO and he told you WHAT?" Fox's mouth was hanging open, in a way that Dana would have found funny had the situation been- most- any other. Daina Kathryn was peeking over the top of her book, trying not to look like she was listening, and the Samantha's teasing voice had silenced in the other room.

"A doctor named Jamie Covarrubias. He helped me with the autopsy. He has a sister named Ann and he says-"

"That she's SAMANTHA? How does he know?"

"Letters. From your father to his father."

"So Samantha has been here the whole time, living with the family of a Jamie Covarrubias and-"

He was cut off by Daina Kathryn. "And a sister named Marita."

Fox and Dana both looked at her. "What?" Fox asked.

"I think that's what her name was. The woman you met earlier, who came here so Mom, you could look at her son's foot. Her name was Ann Covarrubias and she said she had a sister named Marita. And you said you knew her sister. Her son's named Adam."

"Oh my, God, she's right... I knew she looked a little like Samantha, but I just thought it was the hair..." Fox was shaking his head. He closed his eyes and lines appeared in his forehead as he tried to remember exactly what she'd told him. "Did she give us an address?"

"No... no, she has ours... she turned and looked at your strangely when I said our names, I remember that now..." Dana said.

"Well, we'll look her up. How many Covarrubias' can there be?"
>>>>>>>>


JULY 14, 1999
4:15 P.M.

Fox sighed and closed the phone book. "No Ann Covarrubias'. A Dr. Jamie, I'm guessing that's who you talked to, and a Jonathan, Sr. and Marian."

"I'm sorry, Fox," Dana said softly.

He shrugged. "There's not much of a chance it was her, anyway. How many times has this happened before?"

Daina Kathryn was still sitting on the bed, her book now closed and beside her. She was chewing her lower lip. After a few seconds of silence from her mother and stepfather, she decided it was safe to speak. "Why don't you look her up under her husband's name?" she asked. 

Fox turned to look at her, a surprised expression surfacing without his permission. How had a 4-year-old thought of that? He turned to Dana, who looked as surprised as he did. 

"That's a good idea, D.," she said. "But does anybody remember what her husband's name was?"

"Cantson," said Daina Kathryn. 

"First name?"

"Try Adam."

Fox picked up the phone book again and flipped to the Cs. And just like Daina Kathryn had said, there it was: Adam & Ann Cantson. 

He picked up the phone and dialed the number, praying he wouldn't have the wrong one and would have the police called on them- it happened often enough, the police coming after him, anyway, but he didn't think that would go over very well with any of the kids.

But nobody picked up. A scratchy answering machine came on, but he recognized the voice of the woman they'd met earlier immediately: "This is Ann Covarrubias. I'm not home right now, please leave a message, and I'll get back with you as soon as I can."

He didn't leave a message. He didn't know what to say. "Hi, I'm your long lost brother, Fox." "Hi, how are you, was your name ever Samantha?" "Hi, my name is Fox Mulder, and you used to be my sister Samantha."

"Not them?" Dana asked, almost anxiously, as if worried about how he'd react if it WASN'T Samantha. 

"Answering machine," he said. "But yeah, it's them. Her, anyway."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 14, 1999
4:20 P.M.

Ann covered her ears as the phone rang yet another time, both to cover up the incessant ringing and the sound of Adam yelling at her about it. He was just trying to help, but GOD, she just wanted some time to herself.

Finally Adam answered it himself. And after nodding a few seconds- the idea that the people on the line couldn't see you hadn't quite gotten to him yet- he said, "Yeah, here she is," and handed the phone to Ann.

She sighed, but took it. "Hello?"

"Ann?" It was a man, but she didn't think she knew him. "My... my name is Fox Mulder..."

"Oh my, God..." she whispered.

"I have, uh... reason to believe that you're my... you're my sister."

"No. No, I'm not. I've never heard of you."

"I've talked to your brother, or my wife has. A Dr. Jamie Covarrubias? And I knew your sister, Marita."

She wanted to drop the phone and run. "Obviously they had no idea what they were talking about."

"And I talked to you earlier. My wife, Dana, looked at your son's foot."

"I know that. That doesn't make me your sister."

"Marita has pictures, she told me before she disappeared. She didn't say what of, but she said they would be very important to me, and she told me where they were. I understand what she meant now. And those pictures are here, in Sunflower."

"So what?"

"So, tomorrow I'm going to the house of your parents, still owned by your brother, and I'm going to get them. And I'm going to have proof that you're my sister, or as much proof as I need... and, I'd like you to go with me."

Why was she on the verge of tears? "I don't know. I'll think about it."
>>>>>>>>

JULY 15, 1999
9:00 A.M.

Dana was at motel with Lucas and Samantha, but neither she nor Fox had been able to talk Daina Kathryn out of coming with Fox to see if the mystery sister Ann Covarrubias would even speak to him.

She did. She opened the door of her trailer and stared out at them, looking her brother in the eye for the first time in almost 26 years. 

Fox almost took a step back when he saw her. The women he'd been shown before as Samantha had been strong women, the kind of person he'd expected her to be, but this woman here looked terrified, and she wasn't much taller than Dana. He'd seen her the day before, yes, but then she had simply been another person to try not to say too much to, to try to avoid. 

She tried to speak, but her voice cracked, and she had to swallow hard before trying again. "Are you... are you my brother? Are you Fox?"

"Yeah," he said, but he felt like an idiot. He didn't know what to say.

"He's been looking for you everyday since you disappeared. He loves you even more than he loves my mom," Daina Kathryn said. And just the sight of that 4-year-old girl with her wispy red hair and clear voice seemed to help Ann Covarrubias.

"Oh, has he?" she asked, leaning over so she would be at eye level with Daina Kathryn.

"Yes. He almost got kicked out of the FBI, too, for it. EVERY DAY. There's a lot of days in almost 30 years."

"Yeah, there sure are." She straightened again and smiled at Fox. "Let's go see these pictures," she said. 
>>>>>>>>

CASE NO. X2304-29483

SPECIAL AGENTS: FOX WILLIAM MULDER, DANA KATHERINE MULDER

DATE OPENED: JUNE 30, 1999

END NOTES: (by special agent fox mulder) AFTER OVER A MONTH, THE MAXIMUM AMOUNT OF TIME BETWEEN THE MURDERS, HAS PASSED, I HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE THAT WHATEVER IT WAS THAT WAS TAKING THE CHILDREN OF SUNFLOWER, TEXAS, AND KILLING THEM IS GONE. IF I WAS CORRECT IN MY BELIEF OF ALIEN ABDUCTION AND THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE FORMS HAVE FOUND WHAT THEY CAME LOOKING FOR, THEN THEY MUST HAVE GONE BACK WHEREVER THEY CAME FROM. IF AGENT SCULLY WAS RIGHT, AND IT WAS A SERIAL MURDERER, POSSIBLY A PEDOPHILE THOUGH THERE WAS NO EVIDENCE OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, THEN PERHAPS HIS NEED TO KILL HAS BEEN SATED AFTER SO MANY MURDERS. THE CASE HAS BEEN TURNED OVER TO LOCAL AUTHORITIES AS OF TODAY (JULY 20, 1999).
>>>>>>>>>

THE END

No, the story's not over yet! But next time, it comes the time to prove that it's REALLY Samantha and the search for Marita begins- right in time for Daina Kathryn's fifth birthday. Jeez, you don't think I'm trying to get out of a real ending, do you? I just had a Christmas deadline on this one and this seemed like a good time to end it! 

Merry Christmas, everybody!
~ Emily

Began: July 21, 1998
Ended: December 24, 1998

The Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told, and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong; wait and see
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

Who said that ev'ry wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of it, and someone believed it
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me
All of us under its spell;
We know that it's probably magic

Have you been half asleep and heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.