Extraordinary

by cohnand1

The agents investigate a case that hits close to home for Scully. Will she let it destroy her, or will she let Mulder give her strength and save a little girl in danger? Finished

Disclaimer: The X-Files and all related materials belong to Chris Carter and Fox Network. I own nothing, nor am I making any kind of profit off of this.

A/N: This story is my first fan fiction. My professor asked me to complete an "Honors Option" and we decided on writing a fan fiction to explore the Riot Grrrl subculture and fandoms in greater depth. I'd be grateful if you reviewed and let me know what you think. I could use some input for my final paper! Thank you :)

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Scully startled awake at the ringing of her home phone. As she reached to over to grab it from the nightstand, she noted the time displayed on her alarm in neon green. 3:37 in the morning. No one ever called her that early except Mulder, and only when he'd caught a break on a case. But the office had been quiet lately, prompting her partner to begin reviewing old, unsolved X-Files from before he'd stumbled across them. Maybe this call was his ill-timed and inconvenient way of telling her that he'd found something.

Her fingers grasped the receiver and she quickly lifted it to her ear, fully expecting to hear her partner's voice on the other end. "Scully."

Instead, a very different voice answered her. "The child is in danger. She doesn't have much time." The man's voice was strained and distorted, as if he was trying too desperately to sound like someone else. He'd gone to some length to disguise his own voice. There was a faraway crash and a scream in the background. Scully had received late-night phone calls from people in peril before, but it had never been like this. The urgency in his voice was tangible, and she knew that he was truly frightened.

Scully sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. "Who is this?"

"3726 Peachtree Road in Atlanta. She needs your help, Agent Scully."

"What—" Before she could finish her question, the line disconnected with a click. Scully replaced the phone in its cradle and turned on the bedside lamp. Light flooded her bedroom and she pinched the bridge of her nose. She was exhausted. But her fatigue battled with fear for the child's life as the dominant emotion.

It probably said something about the sad state of her life that she was completely used to being dragged out of bed at this hour to look into a case. Being an FBI agent meant that her sleep was cut short on an almost daily basis. Though she was exhausted, she'd had enough experience in these matters to get dressed and autopilot herself to the basement office where she and her partner spent the majority of their days.

Not five hours later, Mulder wandered into the room. She eyed his freshly pressed Armani suit and restful face with a sigh.

"Scully, you look like hell." His face scrunched with concern.

She knew how she looked—wrinkled clothing, minimal makeup, hair in disarray. The bags under her eyes probably didn't help her flustered appearance. She rose from her seat at what was still technically his desk to pour a third cup of coffee. He'd long ago requisitioned a nameplate on the door and a desk for her, but whoever made those decisions obviously decided that the already financially irresponsible basement dwellers needed no further expenses added to their record.

"That tends to happen when someone is woken up at three-thirty in the morning by a caller who indicates that dire consequences will befall a young girl if you don't act immediately."

Mulder's eyebrows rose. "Something you want to tell me?"

She sighed. "I received a call at approximately three-thirty from a man who gave me an address and told me that a child was in danger," Scully relayed, sipping her coffee.

"A little girl?"

Scully knew that tone of voice. Mulder's concern was palpable, even if his facial expression displayed nothing. That look of cautious disinterest was as calculated as his Armani ensemble. But she'd noticed his unease nonetheless. His tone always gave him away. And besides, it's not like she didn't know why he was worried.

The recent death of her daughter was something they never talked about, their only acknowledgement of her existence being in oppressive silences that weren't there before and the occasional touch of his hand on hers on the days when he could tell that it bothered her the most.

Logically, she knew that Emily was never meant to exist. Nameless men created her, and her death was inevitable. But it still pained her, even though she'd only known Emily for a few short days. No child, regardless of how they were conceived, should die so young. But Scully was healing. It was a slow process, but it was undoubtedly happening. Mulder didn't understand her pain because he was not Emily's father, but he watched her as she went through the entire process. He stood by her, supported her, and guarded her against the more gruesome cases until she was ready to face the horrors again. But, even during the darkest of days, he never said a word. Then again, his voice always gave him away anyway.

"That's what he said. First flight out to Atlanta is in three hours. Pack a bag. I'll clear it with Skinner. I can pick you up in an hour." Scully drained her coffee and walked swiftly from the room and his unsettling scrutiny.

Scully's journey to Skinner's office was riddled with startled agents eying her unkempt appearance. She knew the bullpen would be speculating about the source of her obvious distress for days. She and Mulder were often the talk of the entire building. Mr. and Mrs. Spooky were notorious at FBI Headquarters and at Quantico. Mulder was often the disheveled and frazzled one, while Scully's consistently unruffled appearance was legendary. She knew that she was trying to earn their respect in any way she could, considering that the nature of their work certainly didn't earn them any favors with their peers. She also knew that dressing to impress wouldn't work in the long run. Their jobs made them enemies, and many of their fellow agents considered them reckless at best and complete nutcases at worst. Scully grimaced at the thought of everyone looking at her and seeing only a loose cannon—something she never thought she'd be called in her younger days filled with Christian schools and studious behavior.

She strode into Skinner's secretary's office, motioning to the woman on the phone that she needed a minute with her superior. The woman waved her in, quickly refocusing her attention on her phone call.

"Assistant Director Skinner, may I have a word?"

He gestured for her to sit in the seat across from him. He had his black suit jacket off and hanging on the chair behind him, but that didn't change the fact that Assistant Director Walter Skinner was still an imposing man. "What can I do for you, Agent Scully?"

"Did you receive the 302 I submitted this morning?"

"The requisition for assignment and travel expenses to Atlanta?"

"Yes, sir."

"I did. May I ask why? The form was rather vague."

"I believe that there is a young girl in significant danger. I was called on my personal line and a man informed me that whoever she is, she doesn't have much time. Mulder and I would like to catch a flight in—" she checked her watch "—two and a half hours."

Skinner sighed and removed his glasses, setting them on his mahogany desk. She could see her reflection in the lenses, and she understood his hesitancy.

"Sir, Mulder and I are ready to take this case. If someone's life is in jeopardy, it is our job to protect them." She shouldn't have to beg him. He was vaguely aware of Emily's death, she knew. But he would never let personal concerns affect his decision making, and he knew how dedicated she was to the work.

He pulled out the paperwork she had dropped off hours ago and scanned the first page. "Alright, I'll sign off on the form. Because of the highly irregular nature of this case, I want progress reports every forty-eight hours. Is that understood?"

"Of course."

"Good, then you're dismissed. Good luck, Agent Scully," he said sternly, but with a hint of fondness. Despite their tendency to cause trouble for him, Skinner was a steadfast supporter of the X-Files division. Scully gave her supervisor a quick smile—which she knew, due to her exhaustion, came out more like a grimace—and left the room.

Scully walked at a brisk pace from Skinner's office to the parking garage, avoiding rush hour traffic on her way to her Georgetown apartment. She quickly packed a bag full of suits, picking outfits that were older and more durable in case they needed to make yet another trek through a forest or swamp. She was sick and tired of ruining her best skirts, blouses, and shoes because Mulder had a "hunch" that the elusive evidence they sought was in the most isolated and inaccessible part of whatever hick town or disgustingly overpopulated city he'd dragged her to that particular week.

She swung by Alexandria to retrieve her partner on the way to the airport. After Mulder put his bag in the trunk, he slid into the passenger seat of her government car and cracked open a sunflower seed. "You get approval from Skinman?"

She nodded. "I think he likes us."

Mulder's eyebrows lifted. "Skinner? The man who would probably give up sex for a year to have the opportunity to chew us out for an hour? Scully, he lives for the days when we screw up so that he can bellow at us until that vain on his forehead starts popping out…"

She laughed. "Well, he always seems to come to our rescue when we need him."

Mulder chuckled and canted his head in acceptance. Scully fixed her eyes on the road and flipped on the radio. Her mind, however, refocused on the case, running through all the possibilities in her head. The rest of the car ride was filled with the sound of cracking sunflower seeds and the dull chatter of talk show hosts.

They arrived at the airport less than an hour later and were quickly loaded onto the plane after assuring security, "No, we will not be discharging our firearms on the aircraft," and "Yes, we really are FBI agents." They stowed their small bags in the carry-on compartments and settled in for the short ride to Georgia.

When the two agents landed, they immediately disembarked and found their battered rental vehicle. When Scully and Mulder had a particularly fiscally irresponsible year, the worker bees at the Bureau often saw fit to rent them the oldest, shabbiest car the nearest rental agency could offer. Maybe it was revenge for spending too much money. Or maybe their reputations had preceded them and the pencil pushers upstairs hated them just as much as everyone else. They'd probably never know which.

Once they were on the road, Scully pulled a map from the glove box. After examining the paper for a few moments, she grew frustrated. "Every damn street in this city is named Peachtree!"

"The beauty of Georgia," her partner commented while pulling out his cell phone and dialing the Atlanta field office. The agents who answered had laughed at the newcomers before doing a quick web search on the address. The ribbing was all done in good spirit and with a friendly attitude until Mulder identified himself. Agents Ceirelli and Renti had heard of the X-Files division, and when asked what it was that they actually did down in the basement at headquarters, Mulder answered, "Take me to your leader." Scully rolled her eyes. Mulder had no shame. Luckily, the agents had nonetheless directed them to a middle-class subdivision on the outer edge of the city. Apparently there was only one Peachtree address with the numbers 3726 in the Atlanta area.

"3658…3714…3726. Mulder, it's here." 3726 Peachtree Road was a perfectly normal-looking white two-story with a well-manicured lawn and a Ford Taurus in the driveway. The curtains were closed but the property looked innocuous enough. However, Scully knew from experience that looks could be deceiving. They parked on the street.

The neighbor at 3714 was determinately mowing his perfectly green lawn next door. With only a quick look at each other for confirmation, Scully and Mulder stepped out of the car and headed in his direction. After purposefully waving his hands in the air for a few moments, Mulder finally caught the man's attention. The motor of the mower switched off and the man gave them a curious look.

"What can I do for you?"

"We're Fox Mulder and Dana Scully from the FBI. You know the people that live next door?" Mulder pointed. Scully let her partner lead while she inspected the exterior of the home in question.

"Sure. George and Karen Thompson live there. They have a daughter named…Anna, I think it is. Real sweet thing. Pretty quiet."

"Ever see anything strange happen here?"

"Strange how?"

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Mulder clarified.

Scully sent a silent thank you to whoever was listening that Mulder didn't mention aliens right off the bat. She cringed internally whenever Mulder made them look ridiculous to people they'd just met. Asking those questions was part of being assigned to the X-Files division, she supposed, but that didn't mean he had to flaunt it. Mulder could simply brush off the scorn of everyday people, but Scully couldn't. It reminded her just how insane her life had become since she started working with Mulder. She used to be a highly respected FBI agent and medical doctor. Now, she was praying that her partner didn't get them run out of every town they went to with his crazy theories and irresponsible attitude.

"Not that I can recall. I just moved here, so I wouldn't really know," the neighbor replied.

Scully sighed impatiently. The exhausted agent knew that her attitude was bad today. She hadn't gotten much sleep, and she was concerned about being too late to help the girl. She took a deep breath and resolved to be in a better mood. But really, why was it taking Mulder so long to get basic information out of the neighbor?

"Anything last night?"

He gave Mulder a strange look. "Nope, but I'm a heavy sleeper."

"Do you know the family well?"

"Well, we go to the same church. St. Joseph's down the street, actually. I see them there sometimes and we get to talking. They're close with the priest there. So am I, actually. I know them mostly through him."

"Anything we should know about the Thompsons?

"Not that I can think of. They don't talk about personal stuff much. But other than that, they seem pretty…normal."

Mulder picked up on his hesitancy. "Why do you say it like that?"

He gathered his thoughts for a moment before answering. "You see, Karen and George really are pretty normal people. Go to work and buy groceries and everything. Even if they are a little rude sometimes. But the daughter, she's…I don't know…different, I guess. Too quiet, you know? And she always looks a little scared. Like the monster under her bed is going to get her." He gave a nervous chuckle.

"Alright, thanks." Mulder drew something out of his pocket. "Here's my card if you remember anything else."

"Sure. By the way, my name is Marshall Cook. Let me know if you need anything while you're in town."

"Will do, Marshall." Mulder walked back up to where Scully was examining the side of the Thompson house. "What did you find?"

"Mulder, see these marks here?" He nodded. "They look like burn marks."

Mulder took note of them and turned back towards the front door. "What do you say we pay the Thompson family a visit? Your informant did say the girl doesn't have much time."

They walked onto the white porch and rang the doorbell. After a few moments, they began to hear footsteps on the other side getting louder. A middle-aged woman opened the door with a rather insincere smile. Her brown hair was bushy and it looked like she hadn't gotten much sleep. Scully could relate. She glanced at her partner and he inclined his head slightly, indicating that she could lead if she wanted. Scully was often better with women—and mothers in particular. Mulder could never seem to drum up the right amount of sympathy or compassion.

"Hi. Did I miss the sub meeting again?"

"No, ma'am. I'm Agent Scully and this is Agent Mulder. We're with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Do you mind if we come in?" Karen Thompson's eyes darted to the left and she dropped her gaze. Her hesitation was noticed by both agents, but Scully rushed to assure her. "We just want to talk. You're not in any trouble." Judging from the woman's suspicious behavior, Scully silently added the word yet to her last sentence.

"Who is it, Karen?" A gruff voice from around the corner spoke.

Karen threw the reply over her shoulder. "Some people who want to talk to us. They're from the—"

"I don't really care who they are. Let them in, dammit. The cold air is getting out." Karen's husband barreled to the door. The timid woman moved aside so Mulder and Scully could easily enter. They followed George through a long hallway into a large living room. George Thompson was a man who quite obviously used to be handsome in his youth, but the years had not been good to him. His round belly and balding head were among the first things both agents' eyes were drawn to. Once the four of them sat down on the stiff flower-patterned couches, George spoke again.

"So, who the hell are you?"

"They're Agents Mulder and Scully from the FBI, George," Karen stressed.

George's eyes widened in a flash of momentary panic, but he quickly adjusted his facial expression into one of arrogant distain. "Now, what could the FBI possibly want with us?"

Scully didn't like his condescending tone. "We're investigating reports of an incident at your house last night," she lied.

"An incident?" Karen looked at her husband nervously.

"Yes, ma'am. Just a little noise complaint. It was called in anonymously by someone driving by." In Scully's youth, her parents used to spank her for lying. Her mother used to repeat that the intent didn't matter—a lie was a lie. She was relieved that her mother and father were not here to see her now.

"Right, well we were just having a little family meeting. You know how those can sometimes get," George said and threw a smile at them that would probably have been considered disarming in his youth.

Scully fumed. From his tone of voice, Scully assumed that whatever child was in this house yesterday evening had one hell of a difficult night. Maybe the mysterious caller was trying to warn them about the parents. It was one possibility she filed away to talk to her partner about later.

"Of course, sir." Mulder laughed as if he understood, seemingly undisturbed by the tense atmosphere in the house. "We just have to check up on it. Fucking protocol, you know?"

"Sure, sure." Karen and George both looked relieved. They relaxed in their seats and their smiles became slightly more pleasant.

"Well," Mulder said, pulling out a notebook that Scully knew for a fact had nothing written in it, "Have you ever had a noise complaint filed against you before?"

"No," Karen answered.

"Ever had any other kinds of charges filed against you?" Mulder pretended to read off the blank page.

"No." It was George who responded this time, a little too quickly. Scully pretended not to notice the blatant lie but made a mental note to check the Bureau's database for the Thompson family later.

"Anyone else live here?"

"Our daughter Anna, but she was very involved in her science homework upstairs at the time. She's been struggling a bit. I don't think she heard anything," George said, watching their reactions closely. His tone was vaguely threatening and made the hairs on the back of Scully's neck stand on edge.

Scully cut in cautiously, "Mind if I go up and talk to her? I'm pretty sure my partner can handle things down here and I love children. I'm a medical doctor so maybe I can help her with her science." Just saying that she loved children made her cringe and think of Emily. She loved Emily. But before her daughter came around, she'd never given much thought to the subject. Children were an abstract concept—something to be considered years in the future. She shook those thoughts from her head.

George studied her closely and must have not felt too threatened by her small stature and youthful face because he gestured vaguely at the stairs before turning back to Mulder. Scully stood and made her way to the steps.

Mulder's voice faded as she walked. "Have you ever been asked by your neighbors to quiet down a bit?"

"No."

"Have you ever…"

Scully peered into the first room on the right, noticing the wall's bright colors and the child's bed. On the blue plush floor was a young girl no older than eight playing with two dolls. Her head whipped around as she heard Scully approach. The girl's hair was brown like her mother's, but it fell in soft curls around her shoulders. Her eyes were blue like Scully's own, but a much deeper shade. Scully sat on the ground with the girl and crossed her legs beneath her. She read somewhere—probably in one of Mulder's psychology books—that sitting Indian style put kids at ease.

"Hello, sweetheart. My name is Dana."

There was silence from the girl. She continued playing.

Scully tried again. "I was just downstairs visiting your parents and they said you needed help with your science homework."

Still nothing.

"Do you get along with your parents? I never did when I was your age."

Anna shrugged.

"Parents can be kind of annoying, huh?"

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

"When I graduated medical school, my dad wanted me to become a doctor. I wanted to join the FBI instead and he was pretty mad."

"What did you do?" The small girl's voice startled her.

"Well, I joined the FBI. He was furious but he eventually got over it. I think he just wanted me to be safe."

Anna's brows furrowed. "My parents want me to be safe too."

Scully's interest was peaked. "Safe from what?"

Anna's eyes widened as if she'd said something wrong. "Nothing! It's just…they're just overprotective."

"Why are they overprotective?"

"I don't know."

But she was lying. Scully could tell. Anna kept her eyes downcast and looked as if she might cry. Scully was torn. She wanted to push, but didn't want to make the girl upset—or worse, make her parents upset. Asking an explicit question in this case might cause Anna to shut down. Scully tried a different approach.

"You know, it's hard for people like us. People with parents who are overprotective. It makes us feel different, huh?"

At this, the girl looked up at her. "You feel different too?"

"Yes, I do sometimes." She certainly felt different. Her abduction, her barrenness, her job—they were all obstacles to the normal life she wasn't sure she even wanted anymore.

Anna sighed. "Well, I think I am different."

Scully smiled. She felt the same way as a kid. She was always abnormally studious and never really wanted to play outside. She couldn't remember a time when she was well liked by the majority of the children around her neighborhoods. But her entire family moved around so much, following her father to base after base, that she really didn't care.

"Yeah? How are you different?"

The girl seemed nervous, like she wanted to confide in someone, but knew that she shouldn't. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she looked helplessly at Scully.

Scully tried again. "It's alright. You can tell me. Nothing bad is going to happen to you." Too late she realized that she couldn't promise that. Anna was already in danger.

"I can do things that others can't," Anna whispered.

Scully's blood ran cold. How many suspects could do things that others couldn't? How many times had she almost been killed by someone who could do things that others couldn't? How many times had Mulder gone off on some half-cocked quest because he truly believed that someone could do things that others couldn't? How many times had they each almost been killed that way?

She purposely kept her voice light and indifferent. "Like what?"

Anna gazed up at her and kept eye contact for a moment, evaluating Scully's trustworthiness. She seemed to come to a decision and gave her a shy smile. "Wanna see?"

"Sure." It was probably nothing. Scully thought that she was different when she was a kid because she could do a headstand and others couldn't. What Anna was about to show her was probably harmless. She was starting to sound as paranoid as Mulder. Anna was just a little girl, after all. She shook it off and grinned at Anna, ready to humor the child.

Scully gasped when Anna did something entirely unexpected. The little girl, who Scully had just one moment ago thought was completely harmless, held out her hand and a small fire erupted from her palm. The flames seemed to lick at her fingers, yet Anna was completely unafraid. Scully's eyes were glued to the spectacle in front of her, even as she unconsciously leaned away from the blaze. The flame extinguished as fast as it started and Scully jerked her eyes back to Anna's. There was a large grin on the little girl's face. Scully forced herself to shakily return the smile.

Anna, like Emily, really was different. It wasn't in their minds; it was in their bodies. Anna was too adorable, too innocent to have such power. She shouldn't have to carry the burden of being different. If anyone found out, she would be ostracized. Scully understood with a shudder that Anna's parents weren't being unreasonably overprotective—though Scully didn't think that worry for Anna accounted for all of their shiftiness. But they did have every reason to keep a close eye on this child. Scully's eyes widened when she realized the implications of the cryptic message she received last night. Maybe Anna was sick because of her abilities. Or maybe someone had gained knowledge about her powers and was attempting to harm her because of it. Scully's mind was reeling.

"Scully? I'm finished here if you're done helping Anna with her homework."

"Yeah, I'll be right down," she called to Mulder. Scully returned her gaze to the child. "You are an extraordinary girl, Anna. I have to go now. Call me if there's anything you need. Anything at all." She pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to the girl. As she began to stand, Anna threw her arms around Scully's legs and squeezed tight. Tears prickled the agent's eyes. She felt the arms unravel from her thighs a moment later.

"Goodbye, Dana," Anna said with a little wave.

"Bye, Anna," she replied.

She walked down the stairs in a daze. Mulder was exchanging goodbyes when he met her at the front door. "Again, I'm real sorry about this. It's just our policy. Your tax dollars at work, you know? I hope we didn't disturb your daily routine." His gaze slid to hers and he must have seen something frantic there because his expression went from cautiously pleasant to carefully neutral. She distractedly waved to the Thompsons as he ushered her through the doorway. When they were safely back in their car, Mulder confronted her.

"What is it, Scully?" His concerned voice startled her out of her stupor.

"The girl. She's…different." It was the only word she could come up with. The one Anna had used to describe herself.

"What about her?" he asked cautiously.

"She can ignite a fire with her mind! It was incredible! She doesn't understand why her parents are so overprotective, but I do! If I had a daughter like that—" she cut herself off. She did have a daughter like that. She had a daughter that was special, even if she didn't have powers. Emily was incredible too.

When she turned her head back to Mulder, he was staring at her like she'd just grown a third eye. Then reality came crashing down. She was the one who was rational. She was the one who didn't believe in events without a scientific explanation. She was the one who reined Mulder in, not the other way around. What happened could have had any number of scientific explanations. It did have a scientific explanation. They just had yet to find out what it was.

There was more going on here than that, anyway. The way her parents were acting didn't seem merely overprotective. The father was most definitely abusing Anna, and possibly her mother as well. George's panic when he realized they were FBI agents was greater than could be expected if he was just an abusive husband and father. The parents were shifty, Scully concluded.

"I believe you, Scully. I don't think they're going to let us near Anna again, though. Every time I asked a question about her, they shut down. Didn't want to give any details. There's obviously something they're trying to hide, and that might be it." He was getting more excited by the moment. "The one thing they kept mentioning was the church. They're extremely involved with the priest and the rest of the congregation. I want to go and ask some questions. Hopefully we'll find out something about Anna."

He started the car and began driving.

"Do you think her parents are the ones who we're being warned about?"

"No, I don't think so. They're elusive and potentially abusive, but I get the impression that they care about their daughter. Something isn't right with them, though. I just can't put my finger on it."

"We have to protect her, Mulder."

"I know."

St. Joseph's was a large brick church right off the main road with an extensive congregation. There were numerous people milling around the halls, rearranging decorations, and discussing official church matters. The priest was a man named Scott Carolin. He had a friendly demeanor and an open face, though something about his countenance bothered Scully. When the agents approached him, he broke off his conversation with another couple to visit with them.

"My children, have you come to find a new place of worship?"

"No, Father. We're with the FBI," she answered, wondering how long it had been since she'd been to mass. Probably since Emily died.

"Oh, my. Why is the Federal Bureau of Investigation interested in my church? Is this about Father John?"

"Oh, no. We're not familiar with a Father John, actually. We're just looking into a little complaint about some of your parishioners, the Thompsons…" Mulder trailed off, hoping Father Carolin would volunteer some information.

His eyebrows raised and a deliberate look of indifference crossed his face. "The Thompsons? I haven't heard of that family, I'm afraid. But I do have many people that attend my sermons and I've only been the head priest here for a while. I can't be expected to remember the names of everyone who worships here, can I?" Though he was giving them a lengthy enough explanation, his voice was no longer open and friendly. It seemed they had hit a nerve.

Mulder spoke again. "We have it on good authority, sir, that they are regular members and spend much of their time participating in various church functions."

"I'm so very sorry, but I can't help you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a service to prepare for. My assistant Jenny can take care of anything else you need," Father Carolin said. He gave them a tight smile and waved the young woman over. Before she appeared at his side, he was already striding down the isle toward the altar. Scully glared at his retreating backside.

"Anything you need?" Jenny spoke up cautiously, tuned in to her boss's mood.

"No, thank you. We'll see ourselves out," Scully replied, mulling over Father Carolin's strange response to their inquiries. She and Mulder shared a significant look, but refrained from talking until they had traversed the parking lot and entered their car.

"He obviously knows the Thompsons," Mulder started, sliding into his seat, "but I'm not sure why he'd lie about it. Did you see him shut down? That's not the behavior of a man who isn't mixed up in this."

"Maybe he's trying to protect the girl," Scully mused.

"He certainly wouldn't be the only one," Mulder replied with a knowing glance at his partner.

"I just don't understand what's going on here. Who wants to hurt Anna? What are they going to do? And why did they call me specifically? If they wanted someone to believe in the existence of her powers, they should have started with you. Despite my…outburst…earlier, I believe that science can explain what she did upstairs."

"Maybe they knew that you would be more likely to want to protect her." The next sentence was left unsaid, but the term "mother's instinct" rang in the air like he'd screamed it. Scully looked at her lap to collect her thoughts. She was not weak. She could not be taken advantage of, played like a character in a melodramatic movie. Her response couldn't be that predictable, could it? She felt ashamed at the thought that someone may have used her biggest weakness, her biggest loss, against her.

Mulder reached a hand across the console to cup her cheek. His gaze met hers and she saw nothing but unwavering support and unconditional trust. Scully felt her tears recede as she gathered strength from her partner. She saw something else flicker across his face as well. Something that only appeared in the times after a crisis or when a wound, physical or emotional, was too close to the surface. Neither agent could break eye contact.

A harsh ringing noise startled them both. He drew back and dropped his hand, suddenly uncomfortable with their closeness. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and pulled it out, shrugging to indicate that she hadn't been expecting a call. "Scully."

"Agent Scully. This is Karen Thompson. I need your help."

Scully's eyes widened. "Mrs. Thompson. What's wrong?" She turned to Mulder and gestured for him to start the car.

"There's been an…incident at Northside Hospital. It's about 10 miles north of our house. I'll tell you when you arrive." Her voice was shaking and it was obvious that she was reluctant to call them. Scully could hear many voices in the background arguing.

"My partner and I will be right there." Scully hung up the phone and turned to Mulder. "Hospital about 10 miles north of the Thompson house. Drive." He must have recognized that her tone held no room for argument and wisely pulled the car onto the nearest highway.

Scully wondered what had changed Karen and George's minds so rapidly that it warranted calling the FBI. It was obvious that they didn't want to talk to the agents only a few hours ago. Whatever was happening at Northside Hospital, it must be serious. After seeing an emblem for the medical care center, Mulder pulled off the freeway and followed the signs to the visitor parking lot.

The agents exited the car and began walking up the steps to the front doors. As they got closer to the entrance, the partners could see that a crowd had formed by the gates. They were all in business clothing and carrying…video cameras. Oh my God, Scully thought, they must have found out about Anna. The reporters barely noticed as Mulder and Scully pushed their way through the horde of journalists to reach the visitor entrance. Once they were past, however, Scully's morbid curiosity forced her to turn around and ask, "What exactly are you all here for?"

They were eager to fill her in. A lady with bright red lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair answered with an eye roll, "People inside are saying that a little girl is healing the sick. My viewers are going to eat this up. The media is going to present it as the next coming of Jesus Christ himself! I don't buy it. But hey, it'll make the first person to get an exclusive a lot of money." She smirked at the other correspondents. "And I intend for that to be me."

Her competition groaned, obviously used to the ribbing of field reporters from other networks. The woman turned back to Scully and plastered a superior smirk on her face, as if to show Scully that she really was the top dog in this pack of wolves. Scully suddenly felt dirty in their presence and shuffled to catch up with her partner.

Karen met them in the lobby. She was frazzled—that much was expected. Being harassed by the press could do that to a person. Scully knew a bit about the time when Mulder helped catch serial killer Monty Props with his profile in 1988. The media had hounded him for days, titling him "The Golden Boy of the FBI" and "The FBI's Best Profiler." He became an instant celebrity both with the public and with students like herself at Quantico. That was before she knew him, but he was no less intelligent or dedicated now than he was then. It just wasn't appreciated the same way anymore.

She hoped none of the reporters had recognized them. The last thing they needed was to end up in the news. The brass always hated it when they saw Mr. and Mrs. Spooky spouting off theories in the press. Luckily, most of their coverage was limited to the local papers, usually in 8-point font at the bottom of the page. No one wanted to read about the FBI's investigation. They'd much rather read exaggerations about the victim or killer intended to make complete strangers mourn over the dead person and sell a few extra copies of the evening edition.

"Mrs. Thompson—" Mulder started.

"I've about had it, Agent Mulder," Karen interrupted, her eyes wild. "My daughter just cannot seem to keep it contained, so I'm done. My family is not a freak show. We just want to be normal, and we certainly don't want everyone looking at us like this. She's out of control."

"Mrs. Thompson, slow down please. Tell us what happened," Scully said, holding her hands up in a calming gesture.

George came barreling out of the stairwell a few feet away, his large belly preceding his feet. He growled the answer to her question. "The little brat's got special powers or gifts from God or whatever the hell you want to call them. Don't pretend you don't know. She told me that you—" he pointed at Scully "—called her 'extraordinary.' You've just ruined everything we've been trying to do. It's taken us three fucking years to get it through her thick skull that she can't use her powers in public. Now look at the shit she's caused for us because you made it look attractive to be 'different!' These reporters are all over us!"

Karen finished the explanation, a little calmer now. "My mother is in the hospital. George and I were visiting her and I guess Anna wandered off. I mean, we didn't really care at the time because how much trouble can she really get in, you know? But the nurses said she started going into the rooms of other patients and…and putting her hands on whatever body part was hurting, and then suddenly it would fix itself! I don't think anyone would've noticed until we were long gone, but she mended a broken arm. I guess it's kind of hard to miss when a boy's arm is broken one moment, and in one piece the next. And then someone called someone who called the press. Oh God." She put her head in her hands. "We've told her a million times not to do things like that but she just doesn't listen! Now we're going to end up on national news!"

"Of course she doesn't listen, Karen. She's a fucking child. If you say one thing, they do the opposite. We never should have had her. She's been nothin' but trouble from the moment she was born." George's face was turning an angry shade of red and Scully fought the urge to step back. Karen looked inclined to agree with her husband.

Scully couldn't believe these people. They had a child—no, an extraordinary little girl. One who was bright and sweet. One who was alive. Unlike Emily.

Maybe this case really was getting to her. Thoughts of her daughter had never been so close to the surface. And she had certainly never allowed herself to think them while on the job. It disturbed her greatly, but she wouldn't be weak in front of these ungrateful parents, in front of the hospital workers, in front of Mulder. She mentally shook herself. Anna was not Emily. But, Anna was their responsibility. The hospital was crawling with reporters hoping for a glimpse of the "miracle child," so Scully and Mulder had to get her out of there.

"Where is she?" Mulder asked, glancing around George's pudgy figure for the girl.

"She's with her grandmother," Karen replied.

"Does this happen often?"

"This is the first incident in years. Every time she displays one of her powers, we…correct her and impress upon her the consequences of her actions."

Scully highly doubted that "correct" was an accurate word for what Mr. and Mrs. Thompson did to their daughter when she misbehaved. George seemed too short-tempered for that, too aggressive.

"But now you, an FBI agent, made her think it's okay to be different. Now look at where we are!"

"It's not acceptable to be different, Mr. Thompson?" Scully challenged.

"Absolutely fucking not! Look at what she's caused. Look outside!"

"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, we just want to be a normal family. Two normal parents with a normal daughter. She's created a…problem for us. That's why we called you. She's out of control. We cannot deal with her—protect her," Karen quickly corrected, "while she's like this. And now that the media is aware of her existence, it's probably too much to ask for them to just leave us alone. My husband and I don't want this for ourselves. We don't want to be the subject of some exclusive tell-all on NBC. We don't want to have to hide ourselves away in fear of being discovered as the miracle child's parents. We just want to live quiet lives, without the FBI or the press being involved."

Karen and George exchanged a significant look. Both agents read between the lines. Karen and George didn't want the trouble she caused, and by extension, they didn't want Anna anymore. As long as Anna was in the public's eye, her family wanted nothing to do with her. They wanted anonymity and Anna was an obstacle to that.

Mulder pressed his lips together angrily, upset at how these parents could so easily cast aside their only child. It must've reminded him of how his parents had neglected him after Samantha's abduction. At least his parents had a reason. The disappearance of a child is painful, sometimes so much that the siblings are nearly forgotten. But the Thompson family's need for obscurity was rather strange. "So what are you asking from us? To protect her? To get rid of the press? Because they'll listen to us just about as much as—"

"Let us take her back to D.C. with us." After the words left her mouth, Scully gasped, surprised at her request.

"No fucking way," George roared, but the agents could see that Karen was considering it.

"Just for the night. I'm a medical doctor. We can run some non-invasive tests. X-rays, MRIs, that sort of thing. Prove that she isn't what they think she is, and then you can go back to your lives and this will all be forgotten within a matter of weeks."

It was another lie. There was something else going on here. Anna was in danger and they wouldn't be leaving until that danger was eliminated. But her parents didn't need to know that. Let them think that they could go back to their lives of obscurity. Besides, Anna would be safe with the two agents, which is more than Scully could say if the little girl stayed with her parents.

Karen and George considered her proposal. If Scully's instincts were correct, they'd take the offer. There was no way she could promise that the press would drop the scent of a new child prodigy, especially if the government claimed there was nothing unusual going on—they were often like a pack of wolves closing in on prey, after all. But she could promise to try. As secretive as her parents were being, Scully had to agree that living a life in the limelight wouldn't be good for Anna. Besides, if Anna was sick like Emily, this would be a good way to find out.

"George, wait. Listen to her. If she gets this all cleared up, we can go home, move to another state even. Please, George. This could go very bad for us if we handle this the wrong way," Karen implored her husband. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear and he immediately straightened.

"Do it. Fix this mess you've gotten us into." George turned and entered the stairwell again.

He came back downstairs a few moments later with Anna in tow. She looked timid and withdrawn, like she'd just been the recipient of a harsh scolding. Her eyes were downcast and red, her face blotchy and tear-stained. There was the faint outline of a forming bruise on her left arm.

Her father spoke up, his tone vaguely threatening. "Remember Agent Scully? Well, she and her partner are going to take you on a little trip. You'll be back soon enough. I don't need to remind you to be good for them, do I?"

Anna shook her head emphatically, eyes still staring at the ground. It was clear that George intimidated his daughter.

"Good." Without another word, George grabbed his wife's hand and strode back into the stairwell, towing a submissive Karen behind him.

Scully resisted the urge to chase Anna's father and put him in his place. She knelt down so that she was eye level with the child. "Hi, Anna. You remember me, right?" Scully asked. Anna nodded slowly. "Well this is my partner."

"My name's Fox." Her blue eyes looked up at him, questioning. "Yup, that's really my name. My parents had a funny sense of humor, I guess."

Anna gave him a watery smile.

Scully sometimes forgot how amazing Mulder was with children. He put them at ease, seemingly effortlessly. He once told her that he'd taken a child psychology class as a part of his Bachelor's degree program at Oxford. Apparently it had interested him ever since. There was no shortage of books on the subject in the X-files office or stored in boxes at his apartment.

"We're going to take you somewhere to do some tests, but they won't hurt at all. Have you ever been out of Atlanta?" He asked.

"We used to live in Maine," she replied shyly, wringing her hands together.

"Did you go on a plane? High up in the air?" Mulder asked, laughing as he imitated a liftoff with his arm.

She giggled and shook her head. "Daddy said we couldn't fly. We went in a truck. A big one with a giant box attached to it!"

Seeing that Anna had been cheered up, Scully took the child's hand and led her to Northside Hospital's lobby administration area. The black-haired receptionist took notice of them as they approached. She possessed sharp eyes and had probably seen even more death than Scully. Her eyes looked sadly at Anna and then up again at Scully and Mulder.

To their surprise, the hospital worker seemed to know exactly what they needed. "The reporters are still parked out front, but there's a back entrance that all the workers use."

Anna clutched Scully's hand when the journalists were mentioned. In the past, her parents must have drilled an inherent fear into her about the possibility of discovery. Scully squeezed back to reassure her. Mulder nodded in acceptance of the plan and the woman escorted them down a hallway. At the end, they opened a door marked "Employees Only" and after a few more moments, they arrived at a back entrance to the building.

"Thank you." Scully's gratitude was immense. Maybe they truly could keep this from being an even bigger spectacle. Maybe, just maybe, they could keep Anna safe.

"I can't promise they won't see you, though. You'll have to be quick because they'll expect people escaping out the back. That nasty reporter woman probably has one eye trained on this door already."

"You see a lot of this?" Mulder questioned as Scully prepared Anna to scurry out the door.

"Only once. Remember that man who was shot by the priest at St. Joseph's church? It was all over the news a few years ago. I tried to sneak him out this door here but he didn't make it far before the reporters caught up with him."

Both agents' heads shot up at that comment. "No, we're not from around here. You're talking about Father Carolin?"

"Oh, no. I think Father Carolin was only an assistant at the time. The old priest, Father John, was the one who did it. He was…strange. I don't know exactly what happened, but the man survived the shooting only to get poisoned by someone else! And it couldn't have been Father John because he was in a prison cell at the time. It was a horrible tragedy. They never did find the person who finished the job." Mulder filed this information away for later. It seemed like Father Carolin was hiding more than just his knowledge about the Thompson family.

"Alright, thank you. Scully, get ready to run if we have to." She nodded and her grip on Anna's hand tightened a fraction. He winked at the woman who helped them as she opened the large doors to allow them to escape from the building.

"Good luck. Lord knows you FBI types probably need it."

They strode out into the sunlight cautiously, trying to look like any other family leaving the hospital. The partners hoped that the horde of reporters was still camped in front of the main building entrance, or this tactic wouldn't work. Contrary to their usual luck, there wasn't a soul in sight as they rounded the corner into the visitor parking lot. Their car was on the other side of the expanse of cracked cement, so they hurried toward their vehicle as fast as they could without seeming suspicious.

A flash of light caught Mulder's eye twenty yards to his left and the agent's head whipped around, hoping it wasn't the glare of a camera lens. He searched for the source of the beam and cringed. Unfortunately, it seemed as if their luck had just run out. The woman journalist who Scully had spoken to earlier was touching up her lipstick in her news van while her cameraman chatted away on the phone, swinging his camera back and forth in a way that Mulder knew was probably against the station's regulations. The TV personality and her henchman paid them no mind, too wrapped up in their own business to notice the small family sneaking by them.

A small sound emanated from beneath Anna's feet. "Ouch." She had stubbed her toe. It was a tiny sound, but the journalist heard it nonetheless. The lady's head whipped around and her gaze came to rest on the agents, warily trying to hide Anna between them.

"Oh my god. That's her! That's her, Jerry! Get your camera ready! NOW!" Jerry fumbled with the controls of the machine, trying to get the equipment to respond. A red light popped up above the lens and Scully knew they had been caught. The woman rushed to catch up with them, holding her microphone out aggressively, hoping to catch a sound bite she could use on the 6 o'clock news.

"Is this girl really healing the sick?"

They didn't respond. Scully and Anna increased their pace while Mulder tried to position himself between them and the camera.

"Are you her parents?"

Scully put her hand on the back of Anna's neck and gently coaxed her face away from the reporter. The least she could do was make sure the little girl's picture wasn't broadcasted nationwide.

"How do you feel about the rumors that your daughter has been given special powers by God? How do you feel about the rumors that they've been given to her by the Devil?"

That startled Scully and Mulder. Mulder caught Scully's eyes and shook his head, urging her to ignore the comment. Scully nearly snorted. Did Mulder actually think she was going to say something to that classless woman? She'd lost some of her professionalism since this case began, but she knew better than to rise to the bait of the press. The agents' superiors would have their badges if the partners gave a sound clip that represented the FBI poorly.

After another few moments of being hassled by the reporter, they finally reached the rental vehicle. Mulder opened the back door for Anna and made sure she was buckled in correctly before moving to the driver's seat. Scully opened the passenger door and as she closed it, she heard the story's closing remarks. "Is this girl a miracle worker? Has she been sent here by God himself? More on this discovery as news comes in. This is Samantha Carmichael reporting for Channel 4." Scully rested her head on the headrest behind her as Mulder drove away. This wasn't good.

Their drive to the airport was filled with concerned looks passed between the agents and Disney music playing from the speakers for Anna's benefit. They went through the same routine as they had on the way to Georgia and finally boarded the plane on the way back to D.C. They set Anna in the middle seat and buckled her in tightly.

Anna looked at Scully with watery eyes. "I've never been on a plane. Is it scary?"

Scully laughed. "I used to think so, but Mulder here—" she jabbed her finger in her partner's direction "—has been dragging me all over the country for five years, so I'm pretty used to it. It's scary at first, but then it's sort of fun."

"There's no reason for you to be frightened," Mulder said in his best soothing psychologist voice.

It didn't seem like Anna would believe them at first, but she soon relaxed into her seat after they took off and nothing horrible happened. She gave them a bright smile. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Mommy lets me watch TV shows sometimes, and everything always turns out okay when the police come. You guys are the good guys, right?"

Scully's heart broke for her. She was so naïve. Scully had learned long ago that not everything automatically turned out fine just because the FBI became involved. Sometimes people still died. Sometimes they couldn't solve the case. Sometimes the killer escaped. Making a better world for children like Anna often seemed like an impossible task. But they still tried. She and Mulder came to work every day because there was a glimmer of hope that they could catch killers, save lives, and solve the cases that others couldn't.

"Yeah," she choked out. "We're the good guys."

Mulder caught her eyes and held them, reassuring her with nothing more than a look. She once again gathered strength from his gaze, remembering that they caught more killers than they lost, solved more cases than they left unopened, and saved lives on a daily basis.

"Want to sleep, kiddo?" Mulder asked Anna.

"Sure," she answered.

After about twenty minutes, Anna was fast asleep with her head on Scully's shoulder. Her breath was blowing the hair that had fallen in front of her mouth and Scully gently pushed it back behind her ears. Anna was shivering lightly and Scully wrapped her arms around the girl.

With his body resting against the seatback, Mulder turned his head to look at Anna fast asleep in Scully's arms. He didn't need words to communicate the look he was giving her. The emotion was plain on his face. The concern for her wellbeing, the worry for the loveable child in her arms, and the respect and love for her that Scully always knew was there but was rarely displayed in the open.

Mulder opened his mouth to speak, but Scully cut him off, knowing this was not the time. Not on this plane full of strangers with a threatened child sleeping between them. "I know," was all she said, but he understood. He closed his mouth and nodded, acknowledging the closing of the subject and her reasons for it.

When they landed in D.C., Scully hadn't slept in almost 18 hours. She was tired, but being drained was par for the course so she powered through the exhaustion and drove with Mulder and Anna to the lab at Quantico where she could begin an extensive battery of tests. Her partner and their new friend looked almost as bushed as she did, but they made it to the medical bay with no complaint.

"Hey, McKieller," she addressed the chief medical officer of the lab. During the short time that she taught pathology, they'd occasionally attend a staff meeting together or talk about the newest medical advances at the water cooler. His bright red hair and freckles were his most distinctive features. Scully remembered that he was great with children, having two of his own. "Mind giving my friend Anna here a checkup?"

He raised his eyebrows. It was highly unusual to ask such a high-ranking doctor to perform a routine checkup. "No problem, Dana. Hello little lady! How are you?"

She waved shyly.

Scully pulled McKieller aside while he was preparing his equipment. "Sorry about the inconvenience."

"It's alright. What do you really need?"

"More than a checkup, I'm afraid. I need blood work, MRIs, CAT scans—the works. Can you help me?"

"Of course. What's the occasion?" He gave Anna the once-over, and something like recognition dawned in his eyes.

"A source says she's in danger. From what, we don't know yet. I'd first like to check and make sure that she's not sick. If she's not at risk for dying from some deadly disease or inherent medical condition, we can move on to actual police work and catch the sonofabitch who wants to hurt her."

"I saw the news, Dana. They're saying she's healing the sick."

Scully gave him an even look. "I know what they're saying. But our professors taught us in medical school that there's a scientific explanation for everything. We just haven't found some of them yet. We teach our students to have the same beliefs. Maybe the nurses in the hospital were mistaken about the broken arm in the first place. Maybe the whole story about the broken arm was a lie, for that matter. Maybe—"

"Maybe what you saw in Anna's room was a trick of the light?" Mulder cut in.

"Well maybe it was!" Scully snapped back, shooting an apologetic glance over to Anna, who was perched on the examination table a few feet away and had probably heard her outburst. Rationality was what was going to keep Anna alive and unharmed, not wild speculation. She and McKieller were both trained to believe that scientific explanations always existed, even if attaining them was currently impossible with the technology available. This girl most definitely did not have special powers. The momentary lapse of professionalism Scully had outside the Thompson's house was sparked by the shock of seeing…something…unexpected. There was an explanation. They just had to find it. Anna was a perfectly normal little girl, albeit one that Scully had formed an unnatural attachment to.

McKieller held up his hands in defeat and backed away. "We'll figure this out. I'll do those tests, no problem. I'm just as curious as you are to see the results."

Scully sighed. "Thanks, Darren."

After McKieller finished his primary examination, it was nearly 11 o'clock at night. Mulder and Scully were dead on their feet, and Anna had fallen asleep on the table. When they were dismissed for the night and told to come back in the morning, Mulder lifted Anna in his arms and carried her to the car. As they drove, he rubbed his eyes with his palms, trying to keep his focus on the road.

Scully, trying to keep him awake, started a conversation.

"Do you really think she's a miracle worker from God?"

He looked at her sharply. "I don't know. You're the religious one, aren't you?" She nodded her head in assent. "It always astounds me that you believe in something as abstract as God, yet you think that everything on Earth has a scientific explanation."

"And here I was thinking that I was easy to understand," she quipped.

He laughed. "Maybe acts of God and some of the cases we investigate are actually the same thing."

She raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Think about it, Scully. Odd occurrences that defy scientific explanation are 'miracles' when they happen in the Bible, right? But when they happen in the here and now, you insist that there's another reason. Maybe these miracles and some of the cases we investigate every day are one and the same. Maybe they're acts of God. Maybe they happen for some reason that only God knows—to make us stronger or to make others suffer for their crimes against him. Or maybe there truly is no God, and they're all scientifically explainable phenomenon. I just think it's strange that you believe in God and that science can explain everything."

"So you're saying that aliens might actually not exist? That those cases might be acts of God?"

"No, aliens definitely exist. But some of the more earthly cases? You could attribute them to God's work."

"That was…really philosophical, Mulder."

"I've spent some time thinking about this."

"Obviously," she replied dryly.

They heard stirring from the backseat. "My mommy says that the Devil cursed me when I was a baby. She likes to ask God to cure my suffering. She makes me pray every night," Anna supplied, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. Her bones popped.

"We didn't know you were up, sweetheart."

"I just woke up. I never sleep well in cars."

"We're almost at my apartment. We'll be able to put you to bed soon, sweetheart," Scully replied.

Fifteen minutes later, Mulder pulled into a parking space in front of Scully's apartment complex. Since he was driving her car, and his vehicle was at his apartment, they agreed that he should sleep on her couch while Anna slept in the guest bedroom. The trio sleepily trudged inside the building. Three sets of stairs later, they finally arrived at Scully's apartment. She reached inside her purse, found her keys, and sluggishly unlocked the door.

"Bed?" Anna yawned again.

Scully pointed to the left hallway. "First door on the right is all yours, kiddo."

Anna nodded and headed for the bedroom.

Scully turned to her partner. "Let me get you some blankets, Mulder."

"No, it's alright, Scully. You're beat. I know where they are." It was a testament to how exhausted she was that she agreed without an argument. "Sweet dreams," he said. She gave him a wan smile and departed to her bedroom. She was asleep almost before she slipped under the covers.

A few hours later, Scully awoke to the sound of terrified screaming. She flung herself out of bed and toward the guestroom. Her first thoughts were of Anna. Was she okay? Was she hurt? Did bringing her to D.C. get her killed? She heard Mulder's footsteps in the hallway and met him at the door.

"Anna?"

"Sounds like it."

Mulder cautiously turned the handle while Scully peered inside.

"Anna? Are you alright?"

All they heard was the sound of soft crying.

"Anna, are you okay?" Mulder tried again.

She sniffled. "Yeah. I had a nightmare."

Scully's panic evaporated. She exchanged a look with Mulder. "Well, Mulder and I are experts in driving the nightmares away. Aren't we?"

"We sure are! Want us to check for monsters under the bed?"

Anna shook her head.

"Want to tell us what the dream was about?"

She shook her head again.

"Alright, well we're going to go back to bed. Let us know if you need anything." Mulder and Scully turned to leave.

Anna made a strangled noise.

Scully ran a hand through her rumpled hair and turned back toward the frightened girl. She was tired. Mulder was tired. Anna was tired. They were all bound to be cranky in the morning. The best outcome for this situation was to get Anna back to sleep as soon as possible. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

Anna considered the offer for a moment then nodded her head. Scully walked over to the side of the bed, crawled onto the mattress, and laid on top of the covers. Anna relaxed slightly and nuzzled the pillow.

"Don't worry, Anna. Scully here is pretty good at keeping the bad dreams away," Mulder stated with a small smile. Scully felt her heart melt a little at those words. She knew that Mulder had nightmares, and the few times he'd spent the night on the couch in her apartment had been blissfully quiet for him—or so he'd told her the next morning.

He returned to the doorway and looked back at them. Scully and Anna were both almost asleep. He tilted his head as if contemplating what it would be like to have a real family, like most of the other men his age had. As he left the room, he shook his head and filed the notion away to be considered at a time when he wasn't dead tired and his presence in the doorway wasn't bordering on creepy.

The next morning, the sound of traffic woke the agents and their houseguest. They grabbed a quick breakfast with the food in Scully's fridge and headed directly to Quantico. When they arrived, McKieller was already hard at work.

"Doc, what did you find?" Mulder asked, much more cheerful than the day before. Eight hours of sleep could do wonders for a person's attitude.

McKieller ran a hand through his hair. "I've been over the test results. There's nothing abnormal about this girl. Nothing at all. Her bloodwork is perfectly fine, her MRIs and CAT scans came back clean, and all of the more specific tests we did say that she's completely healthy. And by completely healthy, I mean that everything about her is fit as a fiddle. Usually, we can detect something a little abnormal in all of our patients. Whether it's an ear infection they didn't know they had, a urinary tract infection, imperfect vision, a small temperature, a cut or scar they forgot about…" he rambled, "there's usually something. Anna is perfect. There's no evidence that she's ever had any kind of disease, or even a scraped knee.

The agents raised their eyebrows and exchanged a look.

"Well that's good news, doc. Right?"

"Well, sure. It's just strange that she's been accused of healing the sick and then I get results like these. I'm not sure it's going to dissuade anyone that she's not what they think she is."

"Thanks, McKieller. We appreciate your help," Scully replied with a small smile.

"No problem, Dana," he said, a troubled expression passing over his face.

They left Quantico with Anna in tow to go to a park near the building. They walked on the street instead of taking Scully's car, tired of being cooped up in planes, cars, and hospitals these last twenty-four hours. To a causal observer, they looked like a normal family. But their situation was anything but ordinary. Scully couldn't keep her concern contained. It showed in the way she walked, the tone of her voice, and the fake smile on her face.

When they arrived at the park, Anna immediately took off for the swings while her temporary guardians sat on a bench within view.

"What are we going to do, Mulder?"

He sighed. "I don't know. The only thing I can think of is releasing a statement to the press reporting Doctor McKieller's findings. Tell them that Anna is completely normal and that there's nothing wrong with her. Maybe that'll make some of them back off."

"That's not exactly what he said."

"No, that's exactly what he said, that's just not how he said it."

She nodded in acceptance. "Sneaky."

"Not my first rodeo," he joked. "What do you think about this whole thing, Scully?"

"I think it's a nightmare," she replied tersely.

He laughed. "Yeah, it seems to be turning out that way, doesn't it?"

"You know what I really think? I still believe that science can give us the answers we seek. Modern medicine might just not be advanced enough to help us right now. But I'm scared, Mulder. I'm scared because almost thirty hours have gone by since I first got the call about her and every moment we spend trying to figure out who or what she is brings us closer to the danger the man said was coming."

"Maybe we removed her from the danger already. Her parents were abrasive, to say the least. It's likely that they were abusing her. The signs are there, Scully. You said there was a crash and a scream in the background of the call you received."

"There's something else happening here. Why wouldn't he just go over there himself to break it up if they were hurting her? More importantly, why did he call us if this is a simple case of child abuse? This is no coincidence. I can't explain it, Mulder. I've got such a connection with this girl."

"Is it because of Emily?" She looked up sharply, startled at hearing her daughter's name said allowed. It wasn't exactly taboo, but neither of them ever mentioned Emily except for extremely abstract references. He wasn't usually this blunt.

"Maybe. I don't know. The situation is pretty different, I guess. But I've been thinking about her a lot since this all started. I'm just glad Anna isn't sick."

Mulder nodded sagely. She knew that he understood. He held his hand out for her to take. When she did, he gave it a light squeeze, signifying that he was here for her. That he would have her back. That he would do anything for her. They didn't need words to communicate anymore. She could decipher everything he was trying to say merely through his squeeze of her hand.

"So," she repeated, "what are we going to do?"

"We can't keep her forever." Mulder was certainly right about that. Though, unfortunately, was the reigning thought in Scully's head. "I say we take her back to Atlanta. Give her back to her parents and keep a close eye on them. Do a stakeout if we have to. We'll stay nearby and we definitely won't let them hurt her. But, her parents are hiding something and I want to know what it is. And we're not going to be able to get anything out of them if we don't give their daughter back. Besides, Father Carolin is suspicious as hell and I want to talk to the neighbor again."

She sighed and nodded in agreement. "I suppose we really can't keep her forever. The government might have a problem with two of its agents kidnapping a child. We'll stick close to the house just in case?"

Mulder smiled in the affirmative.

"Alright, let's do it."

They were on a plane back to Atlanta two hours later.

"Sweetheart, we're going to take you home today."

"Dana?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I don't want to go back home. I want to stay with you and Fox."

Scully's heart broke again. They couldn't keep Anna. Her parents had allowed them one night only. And that night had been a failure. Sure, they had completed everything they'd set out to do, but they were no closer to finding the answers they needed. They'd run all the tests—the MRIs, the CAT scans, the bloodwork. But they hadn't come up with an explanation for the things that they'd seen. They hadn't created a good reason for the reporters to back off. They hadn't stopped the world from finding out about her.

"I'm sure your parents are missing you, Anna," Mulder chimed in cautiously.

Anna shrugged.

By the time they landed and drove to the Thompson's house, Anna was clearly upset. She didn't want to get off the plane when they were asked to disembark or leave the terminal when they'd finally convinced her exit the plane. When they arrived at her home, a horde of journalists was clustered on the front lawn. Anna and Scully looked stricken.

The agents cautiously gathered Anna from the backseat and walked with her huddled between their larger bodies, attempting keeping their heads down and faces away from the cameras.

"What is the nature of your relationship to the girl?"

"Can she heal the sick?"

"There's no record of the Thompson family before four years ago. Can you comment on that?"

The last question stopped both agents in their tracks. Their mouths gaped open, but they didn't pause to comment. The partners pressed forward, trying desperately to get Anna safely inside the house. Scully and Anna surged through the unlocked front door and into the living room where Anna's parents were seated on the flowery couch wringing their hands together. Mulder stayed outside, trying to shout over the screaming reporters.

"I'm Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. We have done extensive tests on Anna Thompson and have determined that no abnormalities exist. Anna is just a normal little girl trying to live a quiet life. We'd appreciate it if you respected that. Thank you." Not that Mulder thought they actually would respect that. He joined his partner inside just in time to hear Karen addressing Anna.

"Anna, darling! We're so glad you're home. Go pack your things, honey." Her mother's voice was strained. Being harassed all day by the media probably didn't sit well with these people who strove for anonymity.

"Where are you going?" Scully inquired.

Karen Thompson fidgeted on the couch and smoothed down the hem of the rather unflattering brown dress she was wearing.

"Well, in light of all of this…publicity, we feel it might be better for us…as a family if we stayed…elsewhere until all of this blows over." George spoke cautiously, measuring his words before he spoke them.

"We'd like to know exactly where you'll be staying. Protocol, you know?" Mulder said the last part sarcastically. Neither of them bought the parents' story for a moment.

"How about we call you when we get where we're going?" George looked ready to have an aggressive outburst, but Karen was the voice of reason. Scully suspected that this was an established pattern in their family.

"Of course," Mulder agreed, knowing that Karen and George wouldn't call when they arrived at wherever they decided to hide. But the partners weren't wanted, and without a court order or probable cause, they couldn't force the Thompsons to let them stay.

"We'll see ourselves out," Scully added.

Once they'd left the house where they were quite obviously unwelcome, the reporters swarmed again. Scully and Mulder deftly avoided them and slid into their car seats.

"What now? If we let them go, they'll run."

Mulder considered for a moment. "We'll call the Atlanta field office. Have them send an extra car out here for me. You can follow them in this one and I'll question Father Carolin again before running a background check on the Thompsons. We can meet up later."

"Got it."

"We probably have enough time to talk to the neighbor again before they get their shit together to leave. Besides, we'll hear the commotion when they come outside to get to their car."

Scully agreed and called the field office while they fended off the reporters again and made their way to Marshall Cook's home. They rang the doorbell and prayed he'd answer quickly. The journalists were still shouting questions one right after the other, each trying to be louder and the more obnoxious than last. Thankfully, Marshall Cook came to the door fairly quickly. He ushered them inside and sat them down at his kitchen table.

"Jeez, it's a madhouse out there!"

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy. We just wanted to ask you some more questions. We don't know anyone else here and you were pretty helpful yesterday. Thought you might be able to lend us a hand with our investigation," Mulder replied, trying to build on the previous easygoing conversation they'd shared.

"They're after that girl, right? Anna Thompson?"

"They are. It seems they believe she has 'powers,'" Mulder said the word with incredulity, as if the entire notion was completely out of the realm of possibility and the reporters were blowing everything out of proportion.

He gave a nervous laugh. "Wouldn't be the first time someone's been accused of being special, I guess."

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" Mulder asked the question like a joke, giving Marshall a false sense of security.

He paused for an abnormally long period of time. "Nawww, man. I don't pay much attention to my neighbors. I try not to be nosy, you know?"

"Of course. Do you happen to know if Anna's parents are abusive?"

Scully thought that may have been too blunt, and it appeared Marshall thought so too.

"Hey, now. It's none of my business what happens behind closed doors. It's…a family thing, right?"

"You would tell us if you knew anything that could help Anna, wouldn't you?"

Marshall threw his hands up in frustration. "Listen, you didn't hear it from me, okay? But the girl's parents throw her around a little. Just a little. Nothing big enough for me to interfere with. Not like I would fuck with George Thompson anyway, you know? But here's the thing. When I start hearing them next door, it always seems to coincide with the rumors."

"The rumors, Mr. Cook?" Scully finally chimed in, intrigued.

"Well, this isn't the first time Anna's been accused of being different. Every time the rumors start to circulate again, things in their house get loud at night."

"Ahhh, I see." They filed that tidbit away for further consideration later.

"But you haven't seen anything to confirm these stories?" Mulder prodded.

Marshall shifted in his seat. "No, of course not."

"What's your relationship to Father Carolin?" Mulder changed tactics.

"He's my priest. And my friend," he amended.

"And the Father before him?"

"Father John?"

"Yeah, him."

"He's the one who murdered that man."

"Do you know if—"

There was an uproar outside and the partners deduced that the Thompson family must be trying to make their escape.

CRACK!

The sound of a gunshot startled the agents. The journalists began screaming hysterically and Marshall Cook looked terrified. He ducked into his basement while the agents rose from the table and dashed through the front door to assess the situation.

The scene outside nearly froze the partners in their tracks. Karen Thompson was on her knees hunched over and shrieking at the top of her lungs. George was unperturbed by whatever had frightened his wife and was forcibly trying to tug her toward their car. Tears were streaming down Karen's face but George did not seem to notice. He hauled an arm around her waist and lifted her into the air, angling her toward the vehicle a few feet from them. Neither agent could lay an eye on Anna. Where was she?

"False idol! Lies and treachery! She was just another one of us sinners down on earth!" An angry voice shouted amongst the chaos, but Scully barely heard it.

She just needed to make sure Anna was alright. Her eyes darted from person to person, attempting to sort through all of the running adults for the one child she knew should be there.

Scully hurried toward the Thompson family while Mulder ran toward the perpetrator, who wasn't even bothering to run. Father Carolin still had the gun in his hands while spewing out rhetoric. "There is only one true God! We cannot worship ordinary little girls! The child was of the Devil! Repent your sins and our Lord shall forgive you!" The last thing Scully saw was Mulder drawing his weapon from the holster at his hip.

Meanwhile, Karen and George had managed to barrel though the chaos to reach their vehicle and shut themselves inside. An unmoving figure on the bottom part of the driveway caught Scully's eye and she changed directions.

It was a body…Anna's body. Scully's eyes watered as she saw dark red blood stain Anna's clothes and start to spread out from underneath her. It had begun flowing through the cement cracks of the driveway and into the street. Blood from the moment of impact had splattered onto her pale face and curly brown hair, the sight of which made the tears Scully was trying desperately to hold in fall uncontrollably. Anna was facing up, her eyes unseeing and her unmoving body completely still. Scully put her hands over the bullet wound in the girl's chest, trying to stem the bleeding.

"Anna! ANNA! You have to wake up. You're going to be fine. It's just a scratch sweetheart, it's just a scratch." But Scully knew better. It wasn't just a scratch, and Anna was already dead.

"Drop the gun!" Mulder shouted.

Scully's head whipped around. Father Carolin was pointing his weapon at Mulder, while her partner was pointing one right back. Mulder's stance was firm and his hands steady, doing the gun training they'd both received long ago at the FBI Academy justice. Father Carolin, on the other hand, looked much more unhinged. He held the gun with one hand, the other gesturing wildly.

"You would make demands of me after worshipping the Devil's child sent down to this plane in order to deceive us?"

"Father Carolin, I am an agent with the FBI, and I will shoot you if I have to. Drop your weapon!"

Father Carolin didn't reply.

CRACK!

The second gunshot of the day rang out and Father Carolin crumpled. Scully looked at Mulder in shock, her hands still covered in blood and resting uselessly on Anna's chest. But Mulder looked just as startled as she did. He hadn't used his gun. Scully turned back to Anna, tears running down her face. It didn't matter who shot Father Carolin. Anna was dead.

Sirens wailed in the distance and Scully finally removed her hands from Anna's chest. Anna's entire body had blood splattered on it and her eyes remained open even after she died. Scully used her fingers to close Anna's eyelids before she leaned forward and wept. She didn't care that it was unprofessional. She didn't care that this probably wouldn't look good on her report to Skinner. She wept because she was supposed to save Anna. She wept because she had allowed herself to care for the girl.

The sirens got closer.

Mulder appeared behind her. "Scully, we have to let Anna go. The paramedics want to take her."

"She's dead, Mulder. There's nothing they can do," Scully cried.

"I know," he said while wrapping his arms around her from behind. She was briefly reminded of the way George had hauled Karen's body off of Anna's, but knew that this was different. Mulder wasn't trying to hurt her. Mulder was trying to comfort her. She twisted around before burying her head into his neck and sobbing.

When she came back to her senses, the body was gone. The paramedics had removed it from the scene. The reporters were still there, looking solemn and not at all as energetic as when they'd first arrived. Police were taking statements. Father Carolin's body had left a dark red pool of blood like Anna's had. Scully could see the outline of where he had died. The police traced it with chalk and moved on. They progressed methodically, as if it was just like any other case.

But it wasn't like any other case. A little girl was dead. Scully was supposed to have protected her, but she failed. Anna was dead.

Mulder helped Scully to her feet. "Karen and George Thompson are gone. Took off after Father Carolin…" he trailed off. "Marshall Cook shot the priest. Apparently he was the one who called you yesterday morning. I guess he was closer than we thought to our perpetrator here."

Mulder continued, "Marshall began to suspect that Father Carolin was becoming angry about the rumors surrounding Anna's powers. He was afraid that Father Carolin was going to hurt her. Then, another story started to circulate and the priest confided in Marshall that he was going to act. Marshall wasn't going to call us until he was absolutely sure about Father Carolin's intentions, but hearing Anna's parents knocking her around sped up the process. He knew that we would respond because these are the kinds of cases we usually investigate. Marshall knew all along that Anna had powers. He was just frightened of George Thomson and Father Carolin so he disguised his voice and lied to us."

Scully glared. "Anna might have had powers," she corrected. "But I guess now we'll never know."

"It's going to be okay. I promise."

She didn't respond.

"Let's go home, Scully."

Three days later, Mulder showed up at their office twenty minutes late.

"Something wrong?" Scully questioned. She still hadn't recovered from Anna's death, and Mulder knew it. Just like Emily, Anna remained a constant presence in her thoughts. Both such bright lights for such short periods of time. Scully mourned over Anna the same way she mourned over Emily—like a mother.

He stopped as though contemplating whether or not to tell her what he'd found. "How are you feeling today?"

She raised her eyebrow and tried to respond evenly. "I'm…well, I'm not okay. But I'm here and I'm ready to work. Tell me what you found."

"As we confirmed yesterday, the reporters were right when they said that no record of the Thompson family exists before four years ago. And, we were correct in assuming that they picked up fake IDs somewhere around that time. But, I found their real identities this morning. They're actually Karen, George, and Anna Alspeck from Augusta, Maine. Karen and George have quite the record. Theft, burglary, and arson are just at the top of the list. The police were after them, so they took their daughter and ran to Atlanta. They picked up new identities and used the money they'd made from their crimes to buy a nice house in the suburbs."

"That's why they were so against anyone finding out about them. Their need for anonymity wasn't out of fear for Anna. It was out of fear for themselves."

"Yup. What's more, after they ran from the scene of their daughter's murder—" Scully tensed at the word and Mulder shot her an apologetic look "—they tried to escape to the other side of the country. They were picked up on the I-20 just outside of Texas this morning. We have them in custody. They're not being brought up on any charges related to Anna, but they're being charged in Maine for their original crimes."

"They'll probably spend the rest of their lives in jail," Scully guessed.

"Absolutely." Mulder confirmed.

"Do you think they loved her?"

Mulder's good cheer faded as the conversation turned serious. "I think most parents love their children in some way," he said cautiously.

"But the way they treated her—"

"Was entirely inappropriate, but unfortunately not all that uncommon. I'm not sure it means they didn't love her, Scully."

She knew he was thinking back on his own horrible childhood. "I know that, Mulder. I really do. They just…didn't accept her for who she was. Every time she did anything that might expose them, they hurt her instead. What kind of parents are those?"

Mulder sighed and perched himself on the desk facing her. "I don't know. But what I do know is that someone cared about her. Someone made her last few hours free from fear of her parents. We took her to the park and on her first plane ride. You even held her while she slept and kept away the nightmares. I'm not sure her parents ever did that."

"God, Mulder! Why do we keep losing these children?"

He considered the question for a moment before responding. "Maybe because these children are special. Emily was sick, Scully, but she was extraordinary just because she was alive. And Anna was also extraordinary. Maybe it was because she had powers that the rest of us don't have, but maybe it was because she was alive too. She impacted your life, Scully. Maybe that's why she was put on this planet. We'll never know if she had powers given to her by God, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that she was a miracle."

Scully's eyes watered. "You're pretty philosophical lately, Mulder."

"It's what I do." He pushed himself off the desk and walked around to the filing cabinet, withdrawing a few folders. "Skinner wants our final report on this case."

Scully stood and moved to stand behind him. When he felt her presence, he returned the files to their rightful places and turned to face her.

"Mulder?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you. I'm—I'm just so grateful that you're…" She broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

He answered anyway, his face softening. "Always."

Scully quickly blinked the tears from her eyes before locking gazes with her partner. He had the most tender look on his face, so she didn't hesitate to shift onto her toes. She closed her eyes and leaned forward to gently brush her lips against his in their first official kiss. It was blissfully pure and innocent, and to Scully it was perfect. She pulled back from the chaste kiss and smiled.

"It's really going to be okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Scully. It's going to be just fine."

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A/N: Please leave a note and let me know what you think. Again, it'd really help me on my final paper!