William Van DeKamp was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind. The worst part was knowing that he couldn't take his fears to his parents. He supposed they loved him, even if they weren't as warm as some of his friends' parents. They were better than Payton's parents – who hit Payton- and were better than his birth parents, who'd thrown him away as a baby. They just didn't understand him a lot of the time, that was all. They kept him at arm's length too, perhaps they loved him thoroughly, but not deeply. And he thought he knew why too.

His parents were saving their best love for their real child, as if there was only a finite amount of sincere feeling you could bestow before it ran out. He didn't think it was fair, because it didn't seem likely that he ever would have a younger sibling. They'd never given up trying to have a baby, and had been seeking medical assistance with it since he was in the first grade. When he was younger he used to feel badly about those appointments, and their explanations about a baby made him wonder what was wrong with him. Why wasn't he good enough for them? As he got older the hurt feelings gave way to a vague hope that if they did have a baby, some of their feelings for it would spill over onto him.

He almost wished they'd already had their prayed for baby, because as things were, he couldn't tell them about the dreams he was having, and keeping the secret was hard on him. Over his life he'd told them about all sorts of dreams he'd had before then, but these dreams were different. He was becoming sure that these dreams were real. At least the first kind, but maybe even the second as well.

The first dreams were about being a baby, and he suspected that they were really buried memories from infancy, even though you weren't supposed to ever remember things from babyhood. The thing that was beginning to convince him that they were real was that they weren't the type of wistful thinking happy dreams about real mummy and dada. They were...scary. An upset woman who looked like the one from his photograph handing him off to three odd men... a car accident...another woman taking him from the men at gun point...a bunch of people scaring him with chanting...something like an explosion that left him scared and alone until the mother-looking woman found him.

The Van DeKamps told him that they didn't know anything much about his birth family, but his mom was a single mother who didn't think she could care for him any longer. William guessed that he didn't blame her if his dream was about something that had actually happened. It was scary for his baby dream-self, he could only imagine how scary it would have been for someone old enough to know what was going on.

But as disturbing as it was to seemingly dream about something that may or may not have happened to him when he was only a few months old, they paled in comparison to the other reoccurring dreams he was also having.

In the other dreams people kept telling him that he was the one that was going to lead them. And they didn't mean when he was a grown up, they meant soon. Very soon. He tried to tell them that he was just a kid, not the leader of anything, but they ignored him, redoubling their encouragement and repeating that he was the one.

Those dreams felt real too, but like they were going to happen instead of already had. They wouldn't bother him half as much if he didn't keep thinking that he saw people watching him. Of course his parents were oblivious to that too.

**

"Do you need us to bring anything?" Doggett asked, and waited for Scully to answer.

"No, just yourselves is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"You can bring something next time. Or better yet, we could have dinner at your place next time." She teased him.

"I dunno...do you really trust our cooking?" Doggett laughed into the phone.

While Skinner and Fowley tried to draw Scully out, Doggett and Reyes knew better; if they wanted her company, it was bet to go to her. She was a lot more comfortable playing hostess than guest.

Thinking about Reyes and Scully made him shake his head. He was never going to understand their friendship. Despite the fact they were at odds about William and Mulder, they were still friends. He would have guessed it was a difference of opinions that would destroy a friendship, but it didn't. No one ever told him they were uncomplicated women, though, so he tried not to think too hard about it. That lead to headaches.

__

"Monica, are you ready?" He called as he let himself into her apartment with his key.

She appeared with a towel around her hair. "Um... five minutes. I swear."

As soon as she disappeared again, he rolled his eyes and plopped onto the couch. He knew that five minutes would really be ten, so he picked up the remote control to her TV and turned to ESPN. This had happened many times over the years, so he knew that she wouldn't mind him watching TV while she waited.

By this point he knew a lot about her. He knew she had no desire to get married or have kids, for example. It didn't bother him, because he thought that one dead child and one failed marriage was enough for any man. It was just lucky that he'd found someone who didn't feel the need to pressure him into anything more than a long term, if not terribly intense, relationship.

"I'm ready." She told him brightly as she reappeared. "Are you sure she didn't want us to bring anything?"

"I asked her, just like you wanted to. She threatened that we ought to have dinner at one of our apartments next, though."

"Would take out be cheating?" Reyes wondered aloud as they walked to his car.

"Not if we get it from one of those home-style places. She'd never know." Doggett replied with a grin.

Reyes slide onto the passenger seat. "She'd know. Trust me."

Doggett spent the rest of the drive wondering how anyone could tell. It finally occurred to him that Scully knew neither of them could cook.

**

"Can I pick any costume I want?" William asked in a wheedling tone. It was the last week of September, and it seemed to him that Halloween was right around the corner, and it was his favorite holiday of all.

Mr. Van DeKamp gave him an indulgent grin. "As long as it's appropriate for school."

"Dad! Only babies wear costumes to school on Halloween. No one in the sixth grade does."

Though he could have pointed out that just the year before fifth graders proudly wore theirs, Mr. Van DeKamp said nothing as he watched the boy wander towards the costume isle. He smiled, then walked in the opposite direction, intent on tackling his wife's list.

William's eyes light up when he looked through the costumes. He was thrilled that he was finally able to pick one out without parental influence. His father wasn't too bad, but his mother still thought that he'd look cute as the cowardly lion from Wizard of Oz. He would rather be the ghost faced killer from the classic horror movie Scream. Not that his parents knew that he'd seen it on late-night tv one night at a sleep over.

He picked up a costume to admire when a hand closed on his arm. Startled, he whipped his head around, and stared into an unfamiliar face. One lined with age, and with bushy white eyebrows like those Santa is usually depicted as having. "You." The man's voice rasped.

Me what? William thought, but dared not ask. "Let go of my arm." He demanded instead.

The hand's grip didn't loosen. "You're the one."

William's eyes filled with horror. It was just another dream, it had to be. But how could he be dreaming if he was shopping? "You better leave me alone." William warned even as he wondered how he was going to get free.

He tried to twist away, but the old man gave him a hard yank, and was surprisingly strong for someone his age. "No, you're coming with me, boy. You're the one we've been looking for."

About to lose his footing from the yanking, William did the only sensible thing. "Dad! Dad!" He shouted.

Mr. Van DeKamp wasn't the only one to hear his voice. When he got to his son he saw that an old man had the boy by the arm. "Leave my son alone!" He began to run.

By that point a security person realized something was amiss, and followed Mr. Van DeKamp. "Is there problem?" He asked William in a deep voice.

The old man had let go of his arm, but he was still there. William turned and pointed at him. " That guy tried to make me go with him!"

"I can't believe a child molester is allowed to wander this store." Mr. Van DeKamp said angrily.

The security person looked flustered, and the old man looked shocked. "I'm no such thing! This boy is the one who will lead us! I need to bring him back to assist us!"

The security person called for more back up, and soon two large men came and took the still raving elderly man away. "I'm sorry about that." He told William and his father. "I suspect he might have wandered away from a home. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No." William said, looking at his arm. There was no mark.

"If you want to press charges-"

"I don't think that will be necessary." Mr. Van DeKamp interrupted.

"Good." The other man looked relieved.

When it came time to check out, Mr. Van Dekamp asked William for his costume, and he was shocked to find it still in his hand. He'd completely forgotten about Halloween. It wasn't the ghost faced killer costume he handed over, but it no longer seemed important.