The boy ran. The minute the first ray of sunlight came shining down through the roof of trees, he ran. Not that fast, but as fast as his legs were capable of going. He did not know exactly how long he had been hiding out in these woods, but he knew it had to be several hours. He guessed it was around 7pm when he first escaped because he could hear the Jeopardy theme song coming from somewhere in the house and he knew it came on at 7…or maybe 7:30. He had a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach leaving those other boys behind, but God only knew what was happening to them, knew what that man was doing. And he didn't want it to eventually happen to him. The man slipped up when he hadn't locked his box very tight last night and he had escaped the first chance he got. He didn't think he'd be missed right away because their captor had just been in to give him and the other boys their measly dinner of tepid, disgusting soup, and take one of the boys away. Thankfully the guy was lazy where housework was concerned and had failed to fix the broken window. It hadn't been too hard to push it the rest of the way out of its frame.

It was slow going at first; it was dark and he was afraid. The boy thought it must be around 7am now because it had been getting light for some time; he figured at least an hour. He was both relieved and afraid at this. While it was certainly easier to navigate through these dense woods with some light for guidance, he also feared that it would be easier to be spotted if the man did come looking for him. He was also thankful for the meager warmth the rising sun had brought. The April mornings were still cold, especially for someone with no shoes and only a t-shirt and shorts to wear. He had no idea where he was or how far he had gone. He just hoped he wasn't going around in circles and would run into another human soon; anyone who wasn't the bad man that is. He honestly wasn't sure how much further he could go. His bare feet were bloody and swollen now and he hadn't eaten or drank anything in hours… and he was pretty sure his left arm was broken.

Within minutes he could see that he was approaching a clearing, and soon after that, a road. For the first time in days…weeks…months, he really wasn't sure how long it had been... he felt like he might actually be rescued. Tears of relief started making their way down his face.

And then…. Snap.

The pain was instant and overwhelming. He felt himself going, saw the blackness over taking him…until there was nothing. He came to minutes later and tried to sit up. When that didn't work he twisted his self around the best he could to see what damage the trap had caused. It was a big one, probably meant for a bear. He was bleeding profusely from numerous puncture wounds formed from the jagged teeth of the monstrous contraption. He started shivering from shock and cold and knew he wouldn't last long like this. Might as well just give up anyway. God must really hate me for allowing all these horrible things to happen. What I have ever done? I'm just a kid. He was on the verge of passing out again when he thought he heard voices. He struggled to stay conscious and to turn around so that he was facing the road. He tried yelling for help, but his throat was so raw and parched that what came out sounded more like a pathetic croak to him then a yell. He decided he would ask God, beg God, to help him one more time. He gathered all the strength he could muster and screamed.

Avery Marshall and Quinn Phillips were out for their daily morning walk. Between the two of them, they had lost seventy-five pounds in the last nine months and both were determined to stay in shape this time. The early April morning was still a little chilly, but they opted for the longer route anyway; this old logging road was rarely used anymore and gave them the privacy they enjoyed. They hadn't used it since last November when the weather had turned towards winter. The two women had been going along at a steady pace for about forty-five minutes when something caught Avery's attention.

"Wait. Did you hear something, Quinn?"

"Ah, no... what?"

"Shush….there….sounds like someone's….yelling…or screaming. I think it's coming from the woods….over….there," she said pointing.

The two women looked at each other and started jogging towards what sounded like "help me", combined with soft sobbing.

Within minutes they came upon a sight that sent both their stomachs…and hearts…lurching.

"Oh my god!" Quinn exclaimed.

Avery was already dialing 911. "Yes, we have an emergency here. A little boy is hurt. He's caught in a trap and needs help ASAP. What? I don't know the nature of his injuries, just get here! We're about three miles down Old Farris Road off of Route 6, that's outside of Blairwood. Oh god, he looks like hell and there's a lot of blood…hurry!"

While Avery was making the call, Quinn was trying to assess the damage and comfort the boy. "Sweetie, how did you get here? Do you know how you got here? Can you tell me your name? My god where could he have come from, Avery? There aren't any houses around here for miles!"

Quinn blew out a long slow breath. "Quinn, take off your coat. Put it under his head and I'll cover him with mine."

Then, for the first time, the boy spoke. "Please…can you get it off…get it off me!"

"I'm sorry honey, but we don't dare remove it." Quinn said. "We could do more damage. The ambulance is on its way. Can you tell me your name?"

"Jaime….Jaime French."

Tears started down Avery's face. "Do you know how you got here?"

"I …walked. I….I walked"

"Walked? From where? Where did you walk from?"

"I…I don't know. I...I don't know where I've been," Jaime answered. And then everything went black again.

"We really don't know any more officer I'm sorry." Avery said as the ambulance sped away. "We haven't walked on this route for several months. It was just sheer luck we decided to come this way today and found him."

Sheriff Dan Barman shook his head. "Damn lucky! He wouldn't have survived here another hour like that. I can't believe he's alive at all. Besides that mangled leg, it looks like his left arm's broken…and has been for a while. He also looks to be badly malnourished. And that's just for starters. The kid's in pretty rough shape. Off the top of my head, I don't know where he could have come from. We haven't had any missing child reports around here in…oh I don't know…years I suppose. Certainly not since I've been sheriff. Or, if he's been held against his will, and it's looking like that might be the case, he must have come from somewhere else. Of course it could be abuse…abusive parents or a caretaker. Who really knows what goes on behind closed doors, eh? Anyway, thank you ladies."

Avery and Quinn shook the officer's hand and started back to their car and home. They had had enough excitement for one day.

At Our Lady of Victory hospital, Doctor Ryan Kyser was getting ready to go into surgery to try and repair the damage to Jaime's leg and arm. The trap had been removed by the EMT's at the scene and as soon as he arrived in the emergency room his leg had been cleaned and Jaime prepped for surgery.

"So what do we know about him," the doctor asked Nurse Anna Grandin who had been with the boy since he arrived.

"Not much. Two women found him in the woods. Apparently he doesn't know how he got there or where he was."

Dr. Kyser shook his head. "Ah shit, probably another …well, best not speculate. I'm sure the authorities will figure it out."

Three hours later, Jaime was in his hospital room awake and trying to answer the questions Sheriff Barman was asking him. "So, let's see…you live at 234 East Spring Street in Stillwater. Is that right, Jaime?"

"Yes," the boy barely whispered. He started crying…sobs that tore at the heart of both Barman and Susan Blanski from Child Services who was standing behind the officer.

Susan came up to the boy's head and gently ran her fingers through his dirty, matted hair. "And how old are you, sweet heart?"

"Eleven."

Susan and Barman looked at each other. The boy appeared to be no more than seven years old…eight at the most. Certainly not the eleven years he was claiming. Obviously someone was not taking proper care of this child. And Stillwater was twenty miles away.

"One more thing and then we'll let you rest," said the sheriff, "what are your parents' names?"

"Ben and Sarah…..Ben and Sarah French. And my sister is Aiden."

Sheriff Dan Barman knocked on the door of 234 East Spring Street with Susan Blanski by his side. The door was opened by a thirtyish, petite brunette.

"Yes, May I help you?"

"Ah, may I speak with Sarah French, please," Barman asked.

"I'm Sarah French."

"Mrs. French, I'm Sheriff Dan Barman and this is Susan Blanski of Child Protective Services for Hale County. Mrs. French, do you have a child… a child named Jaime French?

Sarah French startled at this. "Yes…yes I do. What is this about?"

Susan Blanski stepped up beside Officer Barman. "Ma'am is your son home. Is Jaime here?"

Sarah shook her head. "Okay, I'm confused. Are you still talking about Jaime or not? I mean, yes Jaime is here, but that's… not my son. Jaime is my daughter."

Barman and Blanski looked at each other. Blanski gave Sarah a forced smile. "Could you have Jaime come here so we could see….her? Please."

Sarah shook her head. "Is Jaime in trouble? Did she break some law I don't know about?"

Barman cleared his throat. "No ma'am, it's nothing like that."

"Then I'm sorry, but unless you tell me what this is about, I'm not getting my daughter involved."

The officer sighed inwardly. He had a feeling this whole business was going to turn out to be a real pain in the ass. It was certainly starting out that way. He bucked up and continued.

"Ma'am, a child was found this morning in the woods outside of Blairwood. A boy who says his name is Jaime French and that he's eleven years old. He gave us this address. And, another thing…" Here the officer's voice trailed off.

"Yes….what?" Sarah prodded.

Barman looked at Blanski. "Ah…he claims his parents are Ben and Sarah French." Blanski said.

Sarah shook her head slowly and opened the door wider. "Maybe you'd better come in."

The two followed Sarah into a sitting room. "Please," she said, and gestured to the sofa. "I'll get Jaime and you can see her for yourself. Then maybe you can get this whole….business straightened out."

She left the two and went in search of her daughter.

Susan Blanski put her hands on the sides of her head. "Okay, this is just too weird. And I suppose there's another child named Aiden, too."

Barman gave a low whistle. "I don't know what to make of it. Maybe the kid is just delirious? Maybe he knows the French's here and somehow has it mixed up with who he is? Like Doc Kyser said, he'd obviously been abused; for a couple of months at least. Maybe he's got amnesia or something. Now I almost wish we would have waited to get a little more info out of him before we came here."

Susan Blanski rubbed her hand across her forehead. "Yeah, but still…why was he out in the woods in the middle of nowhere? How in the world did he get there? He couldn't have walked that far in the shape he was in."

The sheriff stood. "People can perform some incredible feats when it comes to survival, and I suppose that applies to kids as well as adults…and here comes Mrs. French."

Two children walked in the room with Sarah French. She turned and addressed them. "Jaime…Aiden, this is Sheriff Barman and Ms. Blanski." The two, a girl and a younger boy, smiled but said nothing.

"It's okay Jaime, tell them your name and how old you are."

"My name is Jaime French. I'm eleven years old and in 5th grade. I live here with my mom and dad and my brother Aiden." The girl looked frightened.

Barman smiled at her and held out his hand. Jaime apprehensively shook it.

"Thank you very much Jaime for being brave enough to help us out. I think that is all we will need from you. Except…may I ask you a question? Do you know of any children in your school or the neighborhood who haven't been around lately that usually are? Or have you heard anyone talking about anything like that?"

'Um, no. No I haven't heard anything like that," Jaime said shaking her head.

Barman gave a little nod. "Okay then. Thank you again, Jaime. You too, Aiden." The boy smiled shyly and the two looked at their mother.

"It's alright kids. You can go back upstairs."

When the children were safely up the stairway, Sarah turned to the sheriff and Ms. Blanski. "I hope this helps clear something up. I am sorry about the other child, but I really don't think there is anything else I can do."

At that moment, Susan Blanski's phone rang and she excused herself and went out into the hallway to answer it.

Barman smiled. "Yes, thank you ma'am for your cooperation. This is a strange case to be sure. I'm wondering if the boy claiming to be Jaime hasn't suffered some… traumatic brain injury. Maybe it's someone locally who knows your family and … somehow… he has his memories mixed up and has incorporated …umm…all of you into it. I have to ask…have you heard of any missing child, or noticed that one isn't around anymore that usually is?"

Sarah sighed as she shook her head. "No…no I'm afraid I haven't."

"I see. Well thank you."

Susan Blanski returned to the sitting room and spoke. "That was my supervisor. The office ran a preliminary check and there haven't been any reports of abuse or missing children matching Jaime's description in the state of Pennsylvania in the last six months. The next step is running it through the national database. Ma'am, I hate to ask, but would you be willing to do one more favor? Could you come with us to Our Lady of Victory and just see if you could possibly ID the boy? We believe you that he's not yours, but maybe he would look familiar? At this point we really have no other leads. There has to be some reason he named your whole family."

Sarah French said nothing for a minute than blew out her breath. "I really can't come with you right now, but I'll tell you what I will do. When Ben gets home, we'll drop the kids off at my mom's and go to the hospital to see this boy. I really don't want my children involved in this any further, but I am willing to do what I can. If that was my child…well if it was… I would hope some mother… somewhere… would have the same courtesy. To me that's the absolute worse….having a child gone and never knowing….."

When Barman and Blanski returned to the patrol car, Blanski immediately spoke up.

"Okay. I didn't want to say this in front of Mrs. French, the woman seemed upset enough…at least at first, but her Jaime…"

"Looked just like the other one," the sheriff interrupted. "Only a female version."

"Yes!" Susan answered. "Exactly! Seriously, this is the weirdest thing I've ever had to deal with. I wonder if the French's will see it."

"Yeah, and I really wonder if 'hospital Jaime' will think these French's look like his parents? I've had a crazy feeling about this whole …thing… from the beginning. Obviously I'm going to have to go higher up with this. There's only one part time officer on the payroll in Blairwood and one full time in Stillwater… besides myself that is… and I don't have much experience with missing person's cases and I highly doubt the other two do either. The biggest issues I have are the regular drunken domestic disputes. And those rarely involve injury to children. Although, like I said before, we really don't know what goes on behind closed doors. This whole…business though…well, it's getting kind of… spooky!"

At six -thirty that evening, Ben and Sarah French walked into the hospital room of the other Jaime French. Susan Blanski was there to meet them.

"Sheriff Barman wanted me to tell you he's sorry he couldn't be here. We weren't exactly sure when you'd be coming." Or even if you'd be coming …Susan thought, uncharitably. "He had something in Blairwood he had to deal with concerning this case. Anyway, I told him I could stay and that way I can make a report directly to him if you have anything…significant, to add. I wish Jaime here was awake, but he was complaining of severe pain in his arm and leg so the doctor ordered a sedative. And…as you can see… it put him out. This kid has been through a lot!"

The French's walked over to Jaime's bed and peered down at the sleeping boy.

"I….I don't know." Sarah French began. "What color are his eyes?"

"Oh…" Blanski said, momentarily stumped. "Blue… I believe. And I wish they could have gotten him cleaned up a little better before you got here."

Sarah French smoothed the matted and dirty hair that crowned this Jaime's head. "I'd say it's a dirty blond. About the same as our Jaime…but that means nothing, really."

Ben French who had been standing there with a look on his face like he was trying to remember something important spoke up. "Ya know, Sarah…he does look a little like our Jaime."

Sarah spun to face her husband. "What? No he doesn't! I mean this a boy, Ben!"

Ben put his arms on his wife's shoulders. 'I'm aware of that. It's just…. Oh, maybe you're right. It is hard to tell anything when all you can see is part of his face and dirty hair. Other than that, Ms. Blanski, he doesn't look like anyone I know."

"Exactly," Sarah said, taking hold of her husband's hand. He doesn't look like any other child we know. I'm sorry. I have no idea who this boy is or where he could have come from. I hope that absolves us of anymore involvement with this."

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you that. In fact, I believe someone else will be in contact with you before long. I'm not exactly sure who that will be. I think Sheriff Barman has contacted the FBI." Blanski said with a sigh.

"The FBI!" Sarah almost screamed it. "Oh Ben, I don't want to get mixed up with the FBI!"

Ben French pulled his wife into an embrace. "Don't worry about it, Sarah. I'll take care of it...whatever it may turn out to be."

Blanski gave the couple a weak smile "I really am sorry about all this, sorry for the stress this is causing. But there has to be a reason this Jaime has this…this ...connection with your family. So you are double sure you've never seen him before?"

Sarah immediately, and adamantly, answered "no", but…Blanski noticed…Ben stared at the child for some time before seeming to make a decision and then slowly shaking his head in the negative.

"Well then, Mr. and Mrs. French, thank you for your time. I doubt you'll hear from me again over this issue, but like I said, someone will most likely be contacting you at some point in the near future. This matter is far from being over I'm afraid. The child has to belong to somebody!"

Dr. Dana Scully walked through the door and tossed her keys onto the side table. She kicked off her shoes with an audible sigh.

"Mulder…are you home?"

No answer.

She continued into the kitchen, got a bottle of water out of the fridge, and proceeded to rifle through a pile of mail on the counter. Let's see...gas bill, water bill, two charities wanting money, and the latest copy of "Paranormal Magazine." Whoopee.

She walked into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and propped her feet up on the coffee table. Well this was one hell of a day. Every damn case that came through the door was a life or death situation. Scully normally loved a good challenge, but today it had all been a bit much. She stretched back, closed her eyes, and laid the back of her right hand across them. For two pins she could have fallen asleep.

Someone plunked down heavily next to her, jolting her back to reality, scaring her out of her wits, and sending her jumping off the sofa.

"Damn it, Mulder. That's not funny. I have a headache; today royally sucked!"

"Yo…sorry….sorry," Mulder apologized. "Here you sit back down and I'll take the recliner."

"No don't bother, stay…please," Scully remarked, returning to her seat. "Just….jumpy today I guess. After about the tenth critically ill child…yeah...the day started losing its glamour."

Mulder leaned over and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "Well, I have some news, but I'm not sure if it'll make you happy or exasperated…especially if you're already pooped."

Scully sighed. "Oh god, what is it Mulder?"

"I got a call today…from A. D. Skinner...asking for our assistance… again."

Mulder watched Scully's face closely. He wasn't really sure how she would react to this news. The two had not heard from anyone from the FBI since the last case they'd been called to in Virginia concerning missing women and a pedophile priest. And there was a lot there that had made Dana a very unhappy camper.

"What do they want now," Scully moaned.

"A case of a lost child…well not really… lost... More like a found child, I guess, but one that doesn't belong."

"Doesn't belong? What the hell does that mean?"

"Skinner wasn't very specific. Maybe he thought the 'child in distress' aspect would appeal to us. Anyway, I'm guessing it's a pretty serious business or I don't think he would have contacted me….us. I told him I'd talk it over with you before I gave him a definite answer. So, Scully, what do you say? Are you up to helping a child who is both 'lost and found' at the same time?"

Scully took Mulder's hand. "Where?"

"In the fair commonwealth of Pennsylvania… somewhere. All I know."

Scully blew out a long breath. "Well, I don't have any surgeries this week, planned that is. And…I suppose I could get Colin Theron to cover for me. When would we leave?"

Mulder kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Not until morning. Tonight we're having a nice dinner and we'll pack. Finish resting for a bit, and then get a hold of whomever you need to…I'll call Skinner…and Dana?"

"Hmmm…"

"I love you."

Dana smiled. She smiled and she felt all the tension drain right out of her."

"I love you, too."

Assistant Director Walter Skinner was stapling together some paperwork and placing it in a manila envelope when the expected knock on the door came.

"Come in," he announced.

Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully entered the office and stood in front of his desk.

"Agents, thank you for coming so quickly, have a seat."

The two did as instructed.

"So, sir, what's up?" Mulder asked.

"Like I told you on the phone, there's a case in northwestern Pennsylvania I'd like you to look into. I'm not one hundred percent sure it's an x-file, but it appears to have all the markings of one. A boy was found caught in a bear trap in the woods twelve miles outside of a small town called Blairwood. The problem lies in that no one has been able to determine just who he is or where he came from."

"Are you saying the boy doesn't know who he is, sir?" Scully questioned

"I'm saying the info he gave authorities isn't adding up." Skinner handed Scully the folder he had been putting together when they walked in the office. "I won't waste more time explaining. All the info you need, or what we have anyway, is in there. You'll be flying to Pittsburgh and from there to Bradford, PA where a rental car will be waiting. I'll contact you tomorrow evening to see how you're progressing. Of course, contact me sooner if necessary. You'll be working with the local sheriff… name of Dan Barman. And Agents, it's good to see you back."

"It's good to see you too, sir." Agent Scully replied, a little hesitantly Mulder noticed.

"Okay… if there's nothing else, I guess we'll be on our way." Mulder said as he stood.

Scully joined him and they left Skinner's office.

"So, Scully, what's you're take," Mulder said after the two had finished going through the info Skinner had provided them with.

"What's my take? I'm not sure." Scully replied as she looked out the plane's window. "Obviously, the boy came from somewhere. I can believe that Jaime French isn't that uncommon of a name, but…"

"But…," Mulder interrupted, "he just happens to have a sibling with the same name as the other Jaime French, same goes for the parents. And the same address, too? Something very….I'll say it…spooky is going on here, Scully. Skinner was right to call us in."

Scully noticed that Mulder's face lit up as he was talking. "Okay, let's hear it. I know that look. You obviously have a theory all worked out."

Mulder smiled. "Ooh-ooh…can't fool you. Actually I have a couple of theories, but I'm not going to lay it all out to you just yet. Not until I… ah…until I have talked to a few people and gather more evidence."

"Keeping me in the dark yet again," Scully remarked rolling her eyes.

A voice came over the plane's speaker system asking everyone to take their seats and secure their belts in anticipation of landing in Pittsburgh International within the next 15 minutes.

Mulder took Scully's hand and gave her a peck on the cheek.

She gave a low chuckle but questioned, "What's that for?"

"No reason. Every reason. You decide."

Scully squeezed his hand a little tighter.