Scully hadn't been kidding when she'd said that "empty" was a relative term for their spare rooms. It took Mulder and Jackson a good half-hour to shift enough boxes, books, computer and electronics parts, and assorted junk to carve out a place for him to sleep. Mulder was quick to point out that not all of it was his; some of it had been scavenged from Scully's smart house after it exploded.

They talked about Jackson's time in Texas, his relationship with Teresa, and her abilities. It was clear to Mulder that this was the first trusting relationship Jackson had ever had in his life – ironically, with a criminal. It didn't escape Mulder that this was ironic on multiple levels. A drug dealer had taught his son how to trust, and she was responsible for Jackson coming home. Jackson had encountered many allegedly "better" people throughout his young life who had done nothing for him, who hadn't even attempted to understand him.

And what was "better," really? The black-lunged bastard and his shadow government cronies who had conspired with an alien civilization hellbent on destroying the human race? Who had abducted, tortured, and maimed both he and his fiancée? Who had done the same to countless others? Who had murdered countless others? As far as he was concerned, regardless of Teresa's occupation, Mulder owed her an enormous debt he'd likely never be able to repay; Jackson could have fallen in with far less moral people who would have used him for their own purposes instead of convincing him to return to his parents.

As they set up the air mattress and got out bedding materials, Mulder asked, "Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do, as far as school and work?"

Jackson shrugged. "I'm not 100% on that, but I'd like to do something with computers."

Mulder recalled his son breaching the DoD and felt a twinge of sadness; Jackson would have loved the Lone Gunmen. "What grade are you in right now?"

"11th, but I've missed a lot of time now, so I don't know what to do. I want to go back to school, but I don't want to be stuck repeating a year. I get bored as it is. I barely crack a book, and I get all A's, even in the honors and advanced placement classes." Jackson didn't mention that he'd actually thought of quitting school at one point, but being on the run had given him a rude awakening. He had met more than a few people in the drug trade who were stuck there because they weren't educated.

Mulder nodded. "After we get you settled in here, your moth—Scully and I will help you figure all this out. I think I can speak for her and say that neither one of us wants to see you held back or have your choices limited by what happened over the past few months."

He and Mulder stayed up late into the night, talking and watching TV; Jackson had apparently inherited his birthfather's insomniac proclivities. They had other things in common, too, like a shared love for baseball and old Twilight Zone episodes. At the same time, he had his mother's skepticism. Jackson did not believe in things blindly; he needed to see proof. That was how she had known that they needed to show Jackson that they knew what they were walking into with him and could handle it.

He also quickly bonded with King. When Mulder finally retired for the night, the dog decided to stay downstairs with Jackson. As quietly as he could, Mulder crept into the bedroom, shut the door, and stripped down to his boxers.

Scully stirred when he got under the covers. "Mmmmm. What time is it?"

"Late," he whispered, putting an arm around her and kissing her neck. "Just go back to sleep."

"How's Jackson doing?"

"He's all set for the night. King stayed down there with him."

She rolled over to face him. "Do you think he'll stay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do. He's a smart kid. Headstrong, like his mother, but smart." That got him a raised eyebrow. "I think he knows he's not ready to be out on his own. I let him know we'd figure out how to get him back in school."

"We've got a lot of legal things to figure out if he's staying. I'll text Scott tomorrow. His husband is a lawyer."

"Your doctor appointment is tomorrow, too. I'm taking you."

She smiled and gave him a kiss. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "I never thought I would have all of this: a beautiful woman to love, a home, children, even a dog. I never thought we would have all of this."

Scully thought back to the first time they'd ever talked about having children, during that awful case in Home, Pennsylvania. She was in love with Mulder even then, though she hadn't been ready to admit it. Until that day, she'd never pictured him as a father; he'd told her he hadn't pictured her as a mother, either. She'd been surprised when he'd said if he did settle down, it would be in a small, rural town like Home, a house like the one they had right now. At that point, she would have never dreamed they would someday be living in a farmhouse with a son, a dog, and a daughter on the way. She didn't think their chosen lifestyles lent to a family life, but she had come to realize that there were many different kinds of family lives. The Scully-Mulder household was quirky and unusual, but it was theirs.

"I never thought we'd have all this, either, but I'm so glad we do. I love you."

"I love you, too."

They snuggled and drifted into sleep.

The air mattress wasn't the most comfortable bed in the world, but it was far better than the beds in roach motels Jackson had been living out of, and his room was clean. Cluttered, but clean. As if he wanted to ensure that the newest member of the household felt welcome, King parked himself right next to the mattress, his head next to Jackson's.

Jackson was glad to have parents looking out for him again. Although he knew his differences and his experiences precluded a completely traditional lifestyle, he craved some measure of normalcy. He knew his birthparents felt similarly; he'd felt it during their shared dream. He felt safe with them, in this house.

He ended up sleeping better than he had since his adoptive parents had been murdered, maybe better than he had in years.