"Dad? Dad?"

Fox Mulder slowly opened his eyes. "What is it?" he groggily whispered, his oldest son coming into focus as he begun to get his bearings.

"We have to be at camp in twenty minutes," Kyle whined, stomping his right foot. "You have to register me."

Mulder's eyes flew to the bedside alarm clark. 9:10. Shit. Over the past two weeks, since their trip to South Carolina, he had been up by 6:30 AM every morning. He didn't even remember whether he had bothered to set the alarm at all the night before.

"I'll be down in five," Mulder croaked, realizing that his mouth was dry. "And—"

"I know, I know, be quiet," Kyle rolled his eyes as he exited the bedroom. Mulder sighed as he heard Kyle bounding down the stairs. He looked over at Scully, who was snoring lightly, and managed to disentangle Will from his side without waking the boy up. He found some jeans and a black t-shirt, not caring whether they were actually clean. He poked his head in the nursery, and saw that Nathan was in fact up, and playing with his train set. "Let's go on an adventure buddy, okay?" Mulder said, picking up the wide-eyed two-year-old.

Kyle was waiting by the garage door, tugging on his backpack straps. Mulder detected a small frown cross his face when he realized that Nathan would be coming along. "Sunscreen?" Mulder asked, scribbling a note on the white board by the fridge. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, and hoped the diaper bag slung on its hook by the back door had enough stuff to keep Nathan occupied for a couple of hours.

He could barely get out the word before Kyle pounced. "Dana reminded me like four times already," he protested as he jumped into the SUV. "We're going to be late."

"We have plenty of time," Mulder assured his son, knowing that his words wouldn't carry too much weight. Kyle had been looking forward to participating in basketball camp, and Mulder had promised to make sure that they would be at registration once it opened.

Mulder tried to reconstruct the morning thus far as he strapped the toddler into his booster seat. It had been another rough night for them. Nathan's nightmares had returned after a four-day respite; Scully had sat up with him, not returning to bed until after two. Will was wide awake at four thirty, and somehow Mulder had convinced his youngest son (and himself) to go back to sleep before he woke up the entire household. Although the new parents had agreed to take shifts when one of the kids was up at night, the other never really slept well without their partner.

"Dana was up earlier?" Mulder asked Kyle casually as they inched out of the driveway.

"Yeah," Kyle mumbled. "She got some Cheerios for Nathan, and then told him to play in his room."

"What time?" asked Mulder, as he turned quieted Nathan's cries by turning on the CD player. He must have really been out of it that morning, if he hadn't realized that Scully was getting in and out of bed. Whereas Will always woke up ready to rock-and roll, Nathan was in the habit of playing somewhat quietly in his room for a bit before wandering into his parents' room, demanding breakfast and juice. He and Scully had debated whether they should separate the two boys, given their different morning routines, but finally decided to keep the chaos contained. He hoped that boys would be able to continue sleeping through one another's extended crying jags until they would get their own rooms when they returned to DC.

"I don't know. Maybe like 8:30? She said that she would wake you up," Kyle continued, his frustration apparent. "And then she never came back downstairs."

"She was up with Nathan for most of last night," Mulder said, hoping that he wasn't coming across as defensive.

"How could you not hear him? And when will they sleep like normal people?" Kyle asked, kicking the glove compartment, a habit of his which he knew his father could not stand.

"I don't know," sighed Mulder, feeling the onset of a headache, resisting the urge to tell Kyle to knock it off. He hoped that Kyle's bad mood was because he had trouble sleeping, and was not purely acting out because of the loss of his only child status.

"After registration, do you want to go swimming? We haven't done that in a couple of days," Mulder suggested.

"Why bother?" Kyle asked moodily. "You spend like an hour getting them ready and then we only get to go in the water for like twenty minutes and then we have to leave."

"Let's make it night swimming. Just you and me, bud," promised Mulder. He wished he could say that Kyle was exaggerating, but he wasn't too off-the-mark, especially from the perspective of an eleven-year-old. While Kyle could get ready for the beach in four minutes flat, it took much more planning with toddlers.

"You know, Kyle," Mulder began. "Scully's brother and his family are coming tomorrow. Peter is a little younger than you, but you guys got along alright when we met that time in DC, right?"

Kyle shrugged. "He's okay," he mumbled.

"Charlie said he would take you guys out fishing on the boat," Mulder said cheerily. "And I can guarantee that would be something you and Peter could do without your little brothers."

"Would you come?" Kyle asked, brightening.

"Sure," Mulder said, trying not to think about the inevitable sea sickness, which he knew was a source of constant amusement for his son. "If you want me to."

Kyle brightened considerably by the time they reached their destination; he hadn't complained once even after ten minutes of standing in the slow-moving registration line. He kept chatting along with his father, not commenting on Mulder's attempts to corral a hyper Nathan, and didn't even swat his brother away when Nathan began to tug on his t-shirt. Mulder debated which he preferred: Kyle ignoring his siblings completely, or Kyle constantly complaining about said siblings.

By the time they got to the front of line, Mulder was praying that Nathan wouldn't either run away or have a meltdown while he filled out Kyle's registration form, which looked longer and more complicated than the paperwork his new school had sent them. "Nathan, stay still," Mulder murmured as he tried to contain the two-year-old in the gap of space between himself and the table.

When Mulder turned around to break the news to Kyle that he didn't remember to bring his immunization records, Nathan grabbed the opportunity to make a run for it. It only took Mulder three strides to catch up with him, and he felt his face burning as he hauled the squirming toddler back over to the table. In Mulder's estimation, the line of inpatient families behind them seemed to have doubled, and a quick look in Kyle's direction confirmed that his son was as equally embarrassed.

"I think we'll have to come back," Mulder apologized, trying to project his voice over Nathan's cries. "I left the immunization records at home—"

"I have them," Kyle protested. "Dana put them in my backpack."

By the time he wrote out the check for the program fee, Mulder was too frazzled to be embarrassed. "If you can stay for awhile, we're getting some practice in now," one of the staff members said. "Just so everyone can get to know each other."

Mulder barely nodded to Kyle before he ran off to join the group of kids the counselor pointed out, hoping that Nathan would be able to burn off some of his own energy in a shady part of the park. Of course, as soon as he set the two-year-old down, the little boy held up his hands to be held by his father. "I think Mommy wants to talk to us," Mulder said as he set them down at a picnic bench while trying to find his cell phone.

"I can't believe I fell back asleep," Scully apologized. "And I don't know how you got Will to go back down. I feel terrible about leaving Kyle like that."

"Kyle's fine," Mulder said. "You saved the day, actually—thanks for putting that paperwork in Kyle's backpack. Standing in line like that was an X-File in itself. Scully, it was torture. Like Russia-level torture. Krycek doesn't have anything on a moody adolescent and hyperactive toddler."

He thought he could detect a throaty giggle from Scully, which triggered a smile of his own. "Nathan must be giving you a run for your money. I wouldn't expect anything less," Scully shared.

"Please say that you are standing nearby, and have decided to put me out of my misery," Mulder whined.

"Out of luck, partner," Scully admitted. "Will and I are actually heading to the farmer's market. I didn't want to leave it to the morning and then oversleep again. Charlie's crew is supposed to be getting here by eleven."

"Why don't we meet you there?" Mulder suggested. "And then we can get lunch."

"Sure," Scully agreed. "We'll see you soon."

"Wait," Mulder said.

"Do you need anything from the house?" Scully asked.

"Can you keep talking to me for a few minutes?" Mulder asked. "I just miss this. Just talking for the sake of talking. I don't even remember what we talked about last night even."

Scully felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Is there anything special you want to talk about, or is it safe to put you on speaker?"

Mulder nearly snorted as his laughter caught him by surprise. "I always want to talk special to you," he slyly responded. "Let's just shoot the breeze."

Within a few moments, the tension in his neck had dissipated, and by the time Mulder reluctantly ended his call with Scully upon realizing that Nathan was due for another coat of sunblock, he could barely remember the stress of the morning. He motioned Kyle over and barely registered the flash of annoyance that had crossed the eleven-year-old's face upon getting a ten minute warning. Even Nathan's enthusiasm was practically contagious as Mulder spun him around upside down. He caught himself humming along to the Sesame Street CD as they made their way to join Will and Scully, only realizing that he was smiling when he glimpsed himself in the rearview mirror.

Mulder was practically giddy as he led the boys through the parking lot to the farmers market, Nathan on his shoulders and Kyle beside him, scanning the crowds for that familiar flash of red hair. He almost didn't recognize the small figure in a black t-shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops, holding the hand of a stubborn toddler who was insistently pointing to a display of cookies. "We have cookies at home," Mulder could hear her explain.

"Is that Cookie Monster I see?" Mulder asked Will as he set Nathan down on the ground with a flourish. Will wiggled out of Scully's grasp to grab hold of Mulder's right leg. "Or are you Elmo?"

Scully looked up, taken by how relaxed Mulder appeared, and how naturally he interacted with the boys—bending down to tickle the toddlers, reaching back to touch Kyle's shoulder, letting the older boy know that he was still listening to him. With his two-day stubble and with his hair not quite spiking but not quite flopping, he looked less an FBI agent and more like any other dark-haired guy pushing 40, enjoying summer vacation with his kids, not thinking about whatever upper middle management bullshit he left behind at the office. She tried to think back past the last couple of weeks—did he look like this the last time they visited the market, nearly a month earlier? Or were they still trying to get their leave-of-absence bearings, uncomfortable with the thought of trading their service weapons for canvas tote bags?, even just to buy the fixings for dinner?

She was caught off-guard when Mulder's mouth descended upon hers, and momentarily lost herself in the kiss; and she was most certainly not expecting him to deepen it. She felt herself blush as his tongue probed her mouth, and it seemed as soon as she got her bearings, he had broken away. She opened her eyes, gasping when she realized the intensity of his gaze. "Hi," she shyly whispered.

"Missed you," he said.

"I missed you too," she quietly responded, wondering whether they were causing a scene. As she looked around, she saw that no one was paying attention to them, as they were just a nondescript family unit, running errands as best they could with small children in tow.

She startled when Mulder slipped her hand in his, toting Will with his free arm, and Nathan teetering in front of them, with Kyle walking close by, darting between stands, trying to find his favorite whoopee pies. This simple act was still not quite natural for Scully; they had taken such care in hiding their relationship while in public over the past few years. She wished her instinct was to draw Mulder closer instead of pushing him away. She squeezed his hand, hopelessly overcompensating, hoping Mulder would understand what she was trying to convey without words.

"I love you too," he murmured in her ear.

The lighthearted atmosphere continued through lunch, where they were seated at an outdoor picnic table next to the water, lucky enough to get the benefit of the ocean breeze and shade. Once they ate, the boys were content to sit on their parents' laps and play with the toys found in the diaper bag; sleepy enough not to want to run around, but not tired enough to settle down for naps. "Early bedtime tonight," Scully hinted to Mulder, who gave her a wicked grin in return.

Mulder went to pay the bill, as Scully and Kyle collected everything that had scattered across their table. "I think we're cleaned up," Scully said as she picked up Nathan. Kyle had already taken Will's hand without complaint as they made their way through the crowded patio. Scully noticed a line building up at the front door, relieved that they weren't among the throngs of hungry and cranky children and parents.

"Isn't that the lady from the bookstore?" Kyle asked as he spotted Mulder talking to a blonde figure a few yards away.

Mulder waved them over. "I was just telling Caroline that she and the family should come over while your brother is here. The kids are the same ages," Mulder explained. "And this time we won't cancel on you."

Scully immediately arched her eyebrow. Suburban play date talk from Fox Mulder?

"Yes, Hannah told me you had to go out of town. I think she said that someone in Dana's family was sick," Caroline asked. "I think it was your aunt? I hope everything's okay."

"She was hit by a bus," Kyle piped up.

Both Mulder and Scully snapped their heads towards Kyle. Mulder knew that although his oldest son had been a pain-in-the-ass for the past few days, his comment didn't come from malice, but from mischief. A quick glance in Scully's direction confirmed that she was thinking the same, and Mulder was willing to bet money that she was trying hard not to laugh.

"But she's a lot better now," Kyle finished quickly, realizing from the look of horror on Caroline's face that he might be pressing his luck. "It's a long story."

"Well I'm sorry to hear that," Caroline replied, fumbling through her oversized tote bag. "Getting together would be great. I'm late picking up the kids, but since you're all here, I just wanted to make sure I got this to you."

She handed a manila envelope to Mulder, and gave Scully a small smile before she walked away.

Mulder stared at the envelope in his hand. He swallowed hard, and fought the temptation to look through it right then and there. "Let's get home," he said, picking up Will and heading towards the parking lot.

Mulder knew that he was the one driving the more subdued tone of the afternoon. Kyle was more settled now that he was registered for basketball, and had slung himself on the swing in the back porch, plowing through one of his summer reading books on his own initiative. Mulder reasoned that Kyle was playing-it-safe after his comment during their conversation with Caroline. Scully had set up the sprinkler in the yard for the younger boys, who were running themselves silly.

Mulder was comfortably reclined on an Adirondack chair, the manila envelope tucked underneath a glass of iced tea on the table next to him. He had nearly opened it a few times, reflexively setting it down whenever a drenched toddler demanded his attention. After about an hour of alternately toying with the envelope and setting it back down again, he unsealed it and gently shook the contents out.

There were five photos in total; one looked to be a class picture, featuring gap-toothed children, stiffly smiling at the camera. He quickly spotted Samantha, and next to her, Caroline; apart from their coloring, they were mirror images of one another, both in braids and collared dresses. One of the photos looked to be taken at a birthday party; it was impossible to tell who the birthday girl was, as everyone was wearing party hats and blowing on party horns, a stack of unopened presents in the background and a cake with six candles in the front.

The other three featured only Samantha and her best friend; Mulder immediately recognized one having been taken at the Chilmark house; both girls were dressed up, complete with jewelry and fur caps, what Mulder assumed were his mother's clothes. They were both drinking tea with their pinkies out, just as they would have been taught by Teena. Mulder guessed that the second photo was taken on a first day of school—both girls were holding up lunch boxes and had their arms around one another, grinning broadly, their braids framing their faces. The third was the only photo that was candid; the girls didn't even seem aware of the camera, and their eyes were glazed towards a television set. Mulder assumed it must have been taken at his Caroline's house, the decor of the room completely unfamiliar to him.

He wasn't sure for how long he had zoned out, but the next thing he realized was that Scully was kneeling beside him, the boys wrapped in towels, standing next to her. "Sorry," Mulder distractedly mumbled, sliding the photos back in the envelope. "I need a minute."

Scully watched helplessly as Mulder headed back into the house, unsure of what to do. After asking Kyle to take over the sprinkler, she made her way towards the den, where she found him standing, his shoulders shaking, staring out the window.

"Mulder," she whispered, sliding next to him, preparing to hear the dry heaves that accompanied his sobs. Upon facing him directly, she realized that he was not crying, but instead was clenching his fists as though he was trying to contain his anger.

"Step away, Scully," Mulder gritted.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked, eying the manila envelope on the desk.

"I need to be alone," he said harshly, his voice rising.

Scully looked at him bewildered. "What happened?" she repeated, staring him down, not backing away.

"You really want to know?"

Scully tried not to flinch as Mulder's fist hit the table, causing everything to shake. "I've been looking for my sister for twenty-five goddamn years," Mulder began. "Two weeks ago, I was closer than ever. I had more fucking proof that she was alive in one morning than in the past twenty years added together, and you know what I do?"

"Mulder," Scully whispered, bracing for what he was going to say next. A part of her knew that this conversation was inevitable, that Mulder would we be processing it at some point; but that awareness in no way helped her to figure out how she could best help him through the pain.

"I did nothing!" Mulder yelled.

"That's not true, you gave the Gunmen and Preston everything you had. There was nothing else that could be done," Scully repeated, wondering whether she was trying to convince Mulder or herself.

"No Scully, I did nothing. I decided to pay other people to do the dirty work, and the worst part, do you know what the worst part was? I never fucking followed up. I did not make one phone call or send one email," Mulder rawly spat, picking up a vase and smashing it against the wall. "You don't want to go near me right now," he warned her.

"Mulder, you did what you could do," Scully repeated, knowing that her words were useless.

"I can't be here right now," Mulder interrupted her, his eyes vacant. With that, he stormed out of the house, and within seconds, was speeding down the driveway.