Patience and Grace

by Ellie Sculder

Mulder always intended to tell Scully his biggest secret; however, she learns of it on her own. Circumstances beyond their control lead to huge changes for them to face together. As they begin to build a new life as a family, they encounter some of their biggest challenges yet.

38. Chapter Thirty Seven

A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters-I hope you enjoy!

"I don't keep secrets from your sister," Mulder seethed as he slipped out of the crowded conference room, hoping that he would be able to find some privacy in the stairwell. "How many times are we going to have to go through this?"

"I'm in over my head, Mulder," groaned Charlie, trying to keep his voice down.

"And I told you that back in July. What the fuck have you been thinking? Do you know how lucky you are that the judge didn't call a mistrial?"

"I didn't have a choice," Charlie defended himself.

Truth be told, Charlie had been repeating that line to himself endlessly for the past four months. Since his brother's arrest, he had slowly been unraveling, but everything had come apart from the seams after his first afternoon on the stand.

Charlie had left the courthouse, escorted by Preston to his hotel room with orders to not emerge until the next morning. His attorney had even gone so far as to have cleared out the minibar, along with strict instructions to room service that no alcohol be brought to his room. As Charlie had sulked over his dinner, he heard a rattling knock on his door. Instead of being concerned about the prospect of a visitor, Charlie was grateful to be relieved of his boredom.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but he didn't have too much time to think. As soon as he had unchained the latch, he found himself trapped between the door and the wall. "It's you," he gulped.

The blonde eyed him carefully. "You're one for words," she had snorted. "Which is good, because we don't have much time."

As she filled him in on the plan, Charlie had felt himself shrink. "And how do you know I'm going to do this?" he asked once she had finished her monologue.

"I just know," Marita had casually responded with a flippant shrug. "Why do you think your father agreed to do what he did back then?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Charlie had hoped he did not sound as pathetic as he felt.

"I told you before," Marita had shrugged as she had inched closer to the door. "Your father had a thing for blondes. And you look like your father."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Charlie had snapped his head up, and for the first time during their conversation, he felt as though he had control over his voice.

"It will make sense soon. Just follow my directions, and all will be revealed."

And several days later, it all did make sense.

But he wished he it didn't.

"Are you still there?"

The slight crackle over the phone line distracted Charlie from his reverie. "Yes," he hissed, rubbing his temples, trying not to think of his impending headache.

"Where are you?"

"Greenbrier…Mulder? Are you there?"

"Greenbrier, as in Project Greek Island Greenbrier? The underground bunker in West Virginia?"

"The one and only," responded Charlie. "I need to show you something. But you need to come alone. Please, you can't risk Dana following you."

XXXXXXX

Scully could tell that Nathan had a touch of cabin fever, and took him on a solo trip to the library, hoping that he wouldn't try to convince her to also stop at the park. "No stroller means you have to walk all the way there and all the way back," Scully told her son after he pushed the carriage away.

"I'm big," Nathan solemnly responded, his hazel eyes wide.

In considering the entire spectrum of possible consequences to such a decision, Scully pegged their situation as a relatively low-risk three, and decided not to push back on the stroller issue. It would only be for five blocks, and a nice long walk might make for a longer-than-usual afternoon nap.

Will looked a bit put out for not going with them, but Hannah distracted him with some toys, allowing her and Nathan an easy getaway. Scully once again silently thanked her partner for his foresight in asking Hannah to help them out for a couple of weeks; an outing with the both of them would have been too much for her. "No running," she reminded Nathan after they slowly climbed down the front stairs.

"Nathan," she sternly repeated her warning once they reached the sidewalk. "Don't even think about running. If you do, time out on the stairs for three minutes."

"Okay," he giggled, a surefire sign that he was about to disobey her, which he promptly did.

Four minutes later, they were once again on their way, Scully gripping Nathan's good hand tightly as they crossed the first street. "No," he whined when they bypassed the corner they usually turned on their way to the park.

"No park today, monkey," Scully reminded him. "We're going to the library and then we're going back home for lunch."

Although she and Mulder had done their best to carve out one-on-one time with each of the three kids, walking around with only one toddler still felt a bit strange. They slowly made their way to the library, Nathan constantly becoming distracted by the animals, bugs, and trucks they saw along the way. "On Wednesday, we're going to visit a school. You'll get to play with some other kids and listen to a story and then work on a craft," Scully explained.

"Tomorrow?"

"No, two tomorrows, monkey," corrected Scully, knowing full well that Nathan would be asking about their visit non-stop until then. "Do you think that might be fun?"

"Yes," Nathan answered matter-of-factly, a thoughtful look on his face. "Woofy?"

"Woofy can go too," she assured him.

Nathan seemed content with that answer, and then pointed to a dog across the street. "Bandit?"

"No, Bandit can't go to school with you," Scully patiently explained as Nathan gripped her hand more tightly. "That's why he stays home when Kyle goes to school."

"Toys?"

"There will be toys at school, so you don't have to bring your own. You'll be able to play with lots of kids, like you do at the park."

"Will?"

"No, Will won't be there. He'll go to school too, just with kids who are his age." Scully did her best to not choke up at the reminder of both boys growing so quickly. At least she had a couple of more months to get used to the thought.

Nathan enjoyed showing off his cast to everyone they saw at the library, explaining that he 'broked' his arm and was very brave, which made everyone fawn over him even more. When one mother asked Nathan how it happened, he innocently told her that he had been flying before scampering towards a display of picture books.

Scully kept her eye on Nathan, watching him interact with a couple of children about his age, as another mother began to talk to her about her son's broken ankle, a result of jumping down a staircase.

"Mine!"

"No!"

Her shoulders tensed as she saw Nathan stomp his foot, but then unclenched when she saw him give a book to a little girl in pigtails. Both children looked upset, prompting their mothers to rush forward.

"Mine!" Nathan cried, pointing to the book that the other child held.

"Yes, we have that book at home, Nathan," Scully softly explained. "But this one belongs to the library so kids who don't have it at home can read it."

She turned to the little girl. "Nathan loves Curious George," she explained.

"Monkeys," Nathan helpfully added, his eyes not leaving the book that violet had clutched tightly in her hands.

The other mother chimed in, "Violet, do you want to show Nathan your favorite book?"

Within a few moments, both children were sitting on a brightly colored rug, more or less getting along. "Sorry about that," Scully awkwardly apologized. "I sometimes have to remind him about sharing."

"Violet's a biter," the other mother explained casually. "I'm sure they are equally matched."

Scully tried not to visibly react, relieved that she wouldn't have to worry about that particular bad habit during Nathan's preschool visit. She relaxed when it became apparent that Nathan was behaving himself, and by the time they left the library, she decided that she was not as worried about Nathan's preschool visit as she had been earlier that day.

XXXXXXX

"Agent Mulder." Skinner's stern words echoed down the hall. "A word?"

Mulder could tell by the tone of his former supervisor's voice that the older man was trying to keep his cool. He inwardly groaned, not wanting to be held up in order to receive a reprimand for his early exit from the press conference. "Sir?"

Skinner looked around, making sure that there was no one in the immediate area to overhear their conversation. "You were blindsided in there, Mulder, and it wasn't right," Skinner said. "You are well within your rights to make a big stink, but I'm urging you not to do so. The upper brass are aware that you are lawyered up, and they will work with you to resolve your concerns."

The confusion hit Mulder with full force. He was so distracted by Charlie's phone call that he failed to think about the consequences of the press conference. "I don't care if they go after me, but they can't go anywhere near the kids," Mulder growled.

"We'll be prepared to do whatever is needed," Skinner responded. "They know that it's only a matter of hours before Scully's name is leaked to the press." Something wasn't quite right with the younger agent, but he couldn't pinpoint why exactly, and was bracing himself for a Mulder meltdown.

"And that's very nice and very easy for the director to say," interrupted Mulder, glancing at his watch. It was a good five hour drive to West Virginia without factoring traffic, so he needed to leave as soon as possible. "I have to get out of here."

"The director would like to meet with you to make sure that there are no misunderstandings, so to speak," warned Skinner.

"There's nothing to clear up as far as I can tell. He made his decision," shrugged Mulder, brushing past Skinner before stopping. He turned around and lowered his voice. "But If you want to make it up to me, there is a way in which you can help me out."

XXXXXXXXX

Nathan showed no signs of tiring as they walked home from their trip to the library. "Did you like playing with Violet?" Scully asked as they approached their block.

"No," Nathan scowled. "She's yucky."

Grateful that her son had kept that thought to himself until they were alone, Scully bit back a smile and told him, "That's not a nice thing to say, Nathan."

He chose not to respond to his mother, instead tugging her hand to point in the direction of the park. "Not today, monkey," repeated Scully with a sigh, not wanting to think of the myriad of accidents waiting to happen. She knew that a broken arm would not stop Nathan from trying to climb the jungle gym or sit on a swing, but she also kept in mind that he would still need an outlet for all of his excess energy. She hoped that she would be able to find a solution sooner rather than later.

Will greeted them at the door, his chubby fingers in his mouth, repeating,"Dadda!"

"What's going on, bullfrog?" Scully asked, bending down to Will's level. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hannah emerge from the kitchen.

"Fox was on TV," Hannah glumly explained, wringing a dishrag in her hands.

Scully's eyes widened. "What?" She stood up, barely feeling Will clutch her leg.

"There was a clip on the morning news," continued Hannah, leaning against the entryway. "They announced his task force."

"What else?" Scully could sense that Hannah was holding something back.

"They mentioned his work on your brother's case."

Hannah's words barely left her mouth before Scully rushed into the kitchen, fumbling for the phone, frantically dialing Mulder's number. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," she hummed to herself, flinching when she reached his voicemail, leaving him a message to call her back as soon as possible.

"Mommy," Nathan called out, waving this cast-clad arm. "I wanna talk."

"Daddy didn't answer, monkey," Scully breathlessly answered, mentally running down the list of reasons as to why Mulder would be unable to answer the phone. The most logical choice-that he was behind closed doors with the director-was also the one that concerned her the most. "You can talk to him when he calls us back."

Before she could regroup, the shrill ring of the phone crackled in the air. "Mulder?" she immediately answered.

"Just me," Preston's deep voice rumbled in her ear. "Well, we knew this scenario was a possibility."

"Have you talked to him?" Scully asked, cutting to the chase.

"Not yet," Preston responded. "You know your name is going to be announced in a few hours."

"I don't care about that," she answered with resignation in her voice.

"We can release a statement."

"That's ridiculous," protested Scully. "I have nothing to say. There is nothing to say, really."

"With all due respect, Dana, this is more my area of expertise," argued Preston. "I'm making some phone calls, calling in some favors, and I'll be over later."

Frustrated, Scully ended the call. As much as she wanted to reach Mulder first, she needed to explain what was happening to her stepson before he found out elsewhere. Glancing at the kitchen clock, she realized she couldn't wait any longer, and punched in the number to Kyle's school.

It probably would have been easier to get a hold of the Bureau director at home on a Sunday morning. She kept reminding herself that the problem she was experiencing was a good one to have, in that the security measures were for Kyle's benefit. However, she had mixed feelings about the grilling she received. Yes, she was his stepmother; yes, his father had custody but was unavailable to call himself; no, his biological mother was not available; no, she had not yet been granted guardianship; yes, she was listed on the emergency contact form. By the time she had been given the appropriate permission to speak with Kyle, she was told she would have to wait for a call back, as per the parent-student handbook, he could not be disrupted during class time.

Despite her fervent hope that she would get in contact with Mulder before speaking to the eleven-year-old, it didn't happen. When she finished telling Kyle what she did know, she felt practically embarrassed that all she could say was that his father had been on the news. "I know," he responded, sounding annoyed more than anything. "My friend saw it."

"Kyle, I'm so sorry you had to find out that way," offered Scully, unsure of what to exactly say. "I'll pick you up today, okay?"

She bit back her frustration as she ended the call, leaning against the kitchen counter, her face in her hands for a long moment before pushing through the irritation. By the time she set the phone on its cradle and turned her attention to the boys, she had a warm smile on her face.

XXXXXXXXX

"I figured you would ask me about what happened instead of ignoring it like everyone else," Kyle commented, grim-faced. He kept tapping the ground with his foot, his impatience and frustration obvious. The news had spread like wildfire that morning; Dave happened to see the press conference while in his orthodontist's office waiting room. He managed to find Kyle before third period, and break the news to him before the rumors started rumbling during lunch. So, it wasn't a total surprise when the dean's assistant was waiting outside the classroom to drag him to the school office, where he returned Dana's phone call. He found it hard to pay attention to what she had said, as he was distracted by the prying eyes of the administrative staff, barely registering his stepmother's insistence that she would be picking him up from school that afternoon.

"Natalie told me I should ask you head on because that's the best way to deal with an awkward situation," chirped Chloe resolutely as she absentmindedly pulled at her backpack straps.

"Well, I don't know anything," Kyle sighed. "Dana just said she would pick me up from school this afternoon. But I don't really care about it."

"So what's bothering you? Something's up."

Kyle hesitated. "You can't tell anybody," he began. "Not even Natalie."

"I know how to keep a secret, Kyle. My dad is a spy."

"A real spy would never tell their kid what they really did for work," scoffed Kyle, unable to hide his amusement over Chloe's misstep.

"You suck," Chloe huffed, digging her heels into the ground.

After a moment, Kyle let his friend out of her misery. "My uncle's missing."

"Which one?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, annoyed that Chloe was being so difficult, until he realized that she wasn't trying to make fun of him. "Charlie," he softly responded, looking down on the ground, kicking the gravel at his feet.

"I'm sorry," she stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"Remember. You can't tell anyone," Kyle warned her as he spotted Dana's SUV enter the school parking lot and began to walk away.

"I won't," Chloe called out. "I promise."

Kyle didn't give Chloe a second glance as he climbed into the car. He failed to meet Dana's gaze, instead looking straight out the windshield. It took him a few moments to realize that the car wasn't moving. "Kyle," Dana said, nervously tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "Kyle, look at me, please."

Kyle reluctantly turned his head. "What?" he snapped.

"There are a few news vans on our street," she continued. "Preston is doing what he can to make sure that they don't sit in front of our house or take pictures of you and your brothers."

"I don't care," the eleven-year-old insisted, kicking the glove compartment. "Seriously. It doesn't matter to me."

"Fine," Scully tiredly responded, turning the key in the ignition. She was at her wits' end; she still hadn't been able to reach Mulder, and was beginning to grow worried. She dreaded the question that she knew Kyle would ask: when would he be able to speak to his father?

"I don't understand why you care about this and not at all about Charlie," Kyle exploded.

Immediately, Scully pulled over and stopped the car. "Why don't you think that I care about Charlie?" she asked, trying to keep her tone even. She knew that she only had a small window in getting through to Kyle, and the last thing she wanted was for him to retreat further into himself.

"Because you don't," he protested, the frustration brimming in his voice.

"I do, Kyle, I promise you," Scully softly responded, doing her best to not raise her voice and further fan the flames. "Besides you and your brothers and dad, he's my only family left."

"So why don't you care that he disappeared?" sniffed Kyle.

"It's not that I don't care," she answered, searching for the right words. She hated how self-conscious she became when she needed to say something important without a lot of time to prepare. Mulder was the eloquent one, always ready with a perfectly formed answer that cut to the heart of the matter, while her mouth was constantly playing catchup with her thoughts.

"Charlie is a grownup, he's an adult. He decided that he needed to leave, and I don't understand why, but I need to trust that he made the right decision for himself. I'm worried about him, but it's out of my control. I know I don't talk about it very much, but I do think about him all of the time."

They sat together in silence for a couple of minutes. Scully only turned on the ignition when she was certain that Kyle was no longer going to speak.

XXXXXXXXX

He wasn't sure why he had lied to Chloe, and then started an argument with Dana. Since the previous afternoon, a feeling of dread had settled in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down. It had eased up a bit that morning, but then had promptly returned once he learned of his stepmother's phone call. He felt a bit off-kilter since then, so when Chloe pressed him on the issue, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Confusingly enough, after saying those words out loud, he realized that he may have been more worried about Charlie than he initially realized. And that meant there were two things about which he was anxious.

But most of all, Kyle was worried about his father.

Since school started and his father went back to work, Kyle had wondered off-and-on about his dad's job. He traveled a lot, but always made sure to call him every night. Sometimes their conversations were really short, other times they were able to talk for a long time. The most frustrating part for him was when his father finally came home. Kyle liked it best when his dad returned while he was at school; that usually meant he had already spent time with his brothers, freeing him up to take him and Bandit on a long walk after reading Nathan and Will a bedtime story.

After they returned, he would finish his homework at the kitchen table, listening to his father tease Dana as they cleaned up. Even though he always knew that at this point he lost his father's full attention, he was at least across the room, and would be there again in the morning.

Other times, his father would arrive home cranky and tired right when he was headed to bed. Kyle was usually able to stay up past his regular bedtime, and at least have the opportunity to share small updates on school and basketball and the puppy. Those late night arrivals were usually followed by difficult mornings, in that those were the times in which Nathan became clingy, not wanting to see their father leave for work.

But the worst was when his father came home over the weekend. During those times, Kyle felt invisible. His dad was always so focused on his brothers, and by the time they went to bed, he was really exhausted although he always denied it. They would start to watch a movie, or maybe a baseball game, and he would pretend to not notice that his dad was half-sleeping on the couch. After the incident over the summer when Dana apologized to him for interfering with his time alone with his father, she had never again watched TV with them without an invitation.

The problem was that his father always seemed to ask her to join them (well, maybe not always, but at least half the time). At first Kyle was always annoyed, but then at some point-he didn't remember quite when-he stopped noticing. But sometimes, when he turned to his father to ask him a question, or to point something out, he would see him and Dana wrapped around one another on the couch, and the would be reminded that he was always sharing his father with someone.

Kyle tried his best not to think too much about it, but since his conversation with his father the previous day about his parents' divorce and his dad's new job, all of that resentment just flooded through him, making it difficult to think. The phone call he received from Dana that morning further reminded him that his father's attention was split in many directions. He actually thought it was kind of cool that his dad was on TV, and that everyone knew he was really good at his job.

But what he really wanted was for his father to have made that phone call instead of his stepmother.

Hot tears pricked his eyes, and he barely noticed Bandit licking them off his face. When he realized that Dana was coming down the stairs, he quickly wiped away the excess moisture, and sat up on his seat, pretending to be reading his science textbook. When he realized that she was headed towards the kitchen, he put it down, hoping to control his emotions before anyone tried to speak with him.

The next thing he knew, Will was at his side, looking up at him with his matching wide hazel eyes. Immediately, the eighteen-month-old climbed the couch, calling Kyle's name. Instead of batting him away, Kyle humored him, pulling both of them up to seating positions. Once he was settled on his big brother's lap, Will gave him a bear hug, resting his head on his chest. Like Bandit, Will always seemed to have a second sense as to when he was having a bad day.

Kyle decided that if he had to share his father with anyone, it would be with Will.

XXXXXXXXX

Mulder hated himself for having to drag Skinner into his mess, but he needed to do everything in his power to shield Scully and to make sure she retained plausible deniability regarding her brother's case. He had to weigh this against his promise that he wouldn't keep anything from her again.

And that meant he would have to trust Skinner.

He knew that his former boss was baffled by the message he was asked to deliver, but stopped short of questioning it, merely nodding when Mulder asked whether he would help. The assistant director also promised to cover for Mulder at the Bureau until the next afternoon, buying the younger agent some extra time to accomplish what he needed.

Mulder just hoped that it would be enough.

After a quick stop at the Gunmen's lair, he was on his way to Greenbrier in a Bureau-issued Taurus, having left his own car at headquarters. He knew that it wasn't much of a cover, but he didn't want to be traveling in his own vehicle. His cell was turned off, and a burner phone, courtesy of Langley, was sitting on the passenger seat.

As he drove to West Virginia, Mulder mentally ran through everything he knew about Project Greek Island: how it was a working Cold War bunker, hiding in plain sight at an upscale resort, designed to accommodate up to a thousand people in the event of a nuclear attack. Mulder thought about the timeline that Scully had painstakingly created, which chronicled her father's postings with political events, wondering how it may have overlapped with Greenbrier's establishment in the late 1950s through its decommission in the early 1990s.

Had Captain Scully been to Greenbriar? When had he learned of the bunker's existence? Why had Marita sent Charlie there? Why was Charlie asking him to get there so quickly? All Mulder could do was just hope this wasn't a trap. Taking a quick look at the time, Mulder pushed his foot on the gas pedal. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could get back to his family.

XXXXXXXXX

Scully internally groaned when she once again heard the chirpy tone of Mulder's voicemail message, hoping the kids wouldn't pick up on her frustration. She quickly put down the phone, not wanting the children to ask again whether they could speak with their father.

Preston had issued a stern public statement that reiterated his client was unavailable for comment. Privately, he had warned several news outlets that there would be hell to pay if they published photos of the children. The Bureau did its part by posting agents on their street and in front of the house, but not before its own press release that confirmed Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, MD, was currently on personal leave, but had been an active agent with the Bureau until the previous June.

There was plenty to keep her busy, as the house was bustling: Preston and one of his underlings were working at the kitchen table, while Nathan colored beside them. Hannah was making dinner, while Karen watched with a glass of wine in hand. Kyle was sulking in the living room, allegedly working on his homework. Will was beside him, playing with toys, Kyle having insisted that his youngest brother wasn't distracting him. Scully was caught a little off-guard, as Kyle usually begged off playing with them with the excuse that he needed to get his school work done in silence.

Amid everything that was happening, Scully was most concerned about the eleven-year-old. Since they had returned home from school, he had only spoken to Hannah and Will, and Scully knew that he would begin to wonder about Mulder's whereabouts once dinner time hit. Just as she was about to ask Hannah for some advice, one of the agents entered the house. "Sorry to interrupt," he nervously apologized. "But Assistant Director Skinner would like to see you for a moment."

Scully nodded, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to refuse. Skinner appeared a moment later, acknowledging everyone in the kitchen with a nod. "Thanks for seeing me," he awkwardly began, making it evident that he hadn't expected such a motley crew to be assembled in the Sculder kitchen. "Could we speak in private for a moment?"

A chill ran up Scully's spine. She was unsure of how to answer, looking to Preston for advice. He gave her a slight nod, and she suggested that they decamp to Mulder's office to talk, not realizing that Kyle was within earshot. He quietly followed them down the hall, Will unsteadily running behind him.

Kyle shushed his younger brother, as he stood flush with the wall, hoping to overhear enough of the adults' conversation to find out what was really happening. He knew that Skinner's presence was a sign that something was not quite right.

"What is it sir?" Scully asked as soon as they entered the office.

"Mulder asked me to tell you something," Skinner dug his hands in his pockets as deeply as he could. "He said that he needed to find some sneakers. Converse sneakers, to be exact."

Scully nodded, thanking him for the message. "Is there anything else, sir?" she asked.

"Just that you might want to get in touch with Jeremy," answered Skinner, scratching the back of his head. "May I ask, Agent Scully, whether this makes any sense to you?"

"No," Scully shook her head with a poker face. "To be perfectly honest, no. But thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it."

Kyle jumped away from the door, half dragging Will back to the living room. He thought he had heard the entire conversation, but was confused. Sneakers? Who was Jeremy? He picked up his pencil and continued with his math homework, pretending to concentrate on algebra when he was instead wondering about what was happening around him.

XXXXXXXXX

"What did he want?" Karen asked as she guzzled her Chardonnay.

"Just to apologize for all of this nonsense," Scully shrugged, giving the tomato sauce sitting on the stove range a stir. "And to mention that the Director apologizes for having Mulder work late on his first day."

"Hmmph," scoffed Karen. Scully sneaked a peek at her sister-in-law to see if she was buying the excuse. "I don't like him."

Relieved by Karen's disinterest, and assured that Nathan was keeping busy with his crayons, Scully slipped down the hall and into the home office. She rushed over to the wall safe, punching in the code and pulling out a cell phone and charger before quickly shutting the door. She slipped a new SIM card into the phone as it began to charge.

They had devised the codeword Jeremy a few years earlier, only to be used in the event that one of them needed to be off the grid while the other had to keep up appearances that everything was business as usual. It was an anagram of sorts, containing the first name initials of the Lone Gunmen-John, Ringo, Melvin. It meant Mulder would not be answering his phone until he was absolutely certain that everyone would be safe. If he needed to contact her, it would be through the never-before-used cell phone. Otherwise, the Gunmen could leave a message at a drop, but communication might not be immediate.

The other part of Skinner's message-the bit about the Converse sneakers-signaled to Scully why Mulder was leaving.

He was finding Charlie.

All of those Sunday mornings spent in bed, working on New York Times crossword puzzles, had been put to good use, Scully mused. It had taken a couple of moments, but she figured out the clue: Converse. Chuck Taylor. Charles. Charlie. A deceptively simple code.

A part of her wanted to be angry that Mulder had gone off on his own, without saying a word. But to her at least, any feelings of anger couldn't quite be justified. There was still a chance that Charlie would be called back to the stand, and if he wasn't found, she could be compelled by the court to share any and all information she had regarding his whereabouts. There also was the rather remote possibility that she could be called as a witness.

If Mulder had gone to the trouble to slip her a message through Skinner, it meant that he hadn't intended to lie to her; that he just needed to take immediate action. For her own sake, she needed to trust that he made the right decision.

Scully's thoughts turned to her sister-in-law; Karen was down in DC to find answers, relying on Charlier's colleagues at the local branch of his company to trace him electronically. She had plans to get back to Boston the next day, not wanting to leave her kids without either parent for too long. Scully knew better than to clue Karen in to Mulder's mission, but she wished she was able to offer her sister-in-law some tangible information.

She stared at the charging phone for a moment, turning its ringer as high as it could go. She knew Mulder would only dial that number under extreme circumstances, and she tried to decide whether it would ever ring with good news. She rearranged a few items back in the safe, and left the room.

XXXXXXXXX

When he saw his stepmother return to the office, Kyle knew that something was afoot. As much as he wanted to sneak into that room in order to snoop, he knew he needed to wait, probably until Dana was putting his brothers to bed. By that point, Hannah would probably be busy reading one of her mysteries, and Karen would probably not even notice if he left the living room for an extended period of time.

"Aren't we waiting for Dad?" Kyle asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"He's working late tonight. That's why Skinner dropped by-he's in some meetings," responded Scully, trying to get Will to use his Kermit the Frog fork. Instead, the toddler preferred to eat his ziti with his hands, giggling whenever he mushed up food, making a small mess.

"I bet he thinks it's Play-Doh," Kyle pointed out, not surprised by his stepmother's answer.

"You're probably right," Scully agreed, turning her attention to Nathan who was messily eating his own dinner.

Kyle impatiently waited as Dana and Hannah herded his brothers up the stairs for their baths, while Karen started to clean up their dinner. He dashed into the living room to pick up a notebook and pen, and then ran down the hall into the office. Not knowing how much time he had, Kyle decided to start with the desk and then move to the filing cabinets. He had snooped in those places enough times to know whether a new item had been added to the mess, or if another item had disappeared.

He quickly pawed through the pens and office supplies that littered the first drawer, but spent more time exploring the other two. There were some boring documents-invoices from the contractors who worked on the townhouse at the summer, as well as copies of the permits they obtained. He then went through some other information about local preschools, which were covered in notes with Dana's neat handwriting, and then some of the paperwork and tuition statements from his own school.

The bottom drawer on the left was the most interesting. He pulled out a thick file labeled Timeline. He quickly scanned the pages, which appeared to be notes arranged by date. He wasn't quite sure what it all pertained to, but he once again recognized Dana's handwriting. This seemed promising, but there was no way he would be able to sneak it out of the room at the moment. He put it back, and started to flip through the rest of the folders. He found on bearing his father's name, which contained notes and statements from his past few hospital stays. Knowing that his time was running out, Kyle flipped through the contents even more quickly. He saw similar folders for Dana, himself and Will. He then slid over to the other side of the desk, which housed insurance and tax documents.

Kyle decided to risk looking through the Timeline folder again. When he realized that this contained information about his stepmother's past, he knew that he needed to read over all of it. But the thumping on the stairs reminded him that he needed to get out of the room as quickly as possible. He put away the folder, and grabbed his notebook and pen, and ducked into the bathroom before anyone could see him.

Crouching over the sink counter, Kyle scribbled everything he could remember about the items he looked through. Like his father, he had a photographic memory, but preferred to write things down in order to find a pattern. For his second trip to the desk, he needed to double-check a couple of things: he hadn't found a folder with Nathan's name on it, and he was pretty sure that he had seen some of Dana's medical records in the Timeline folder. Had she (or his father) not put everything in the right place the last time they went through the contents? He decided that it was one of those things which might mean nothing, but also might be incredibly important.

His biggest challenge would be that the office door was often locked. That was partly because his father stored his service weapon in a sealed strongbox located in the wall safe, and also because his dad was paranoid that someone would innocently go through a casefile that was particularly disturbing or gruesome. He walked into the kitchen, ignoring Karen, who was busy loading the dishwasher, and headed towards the laundry room. There he saw some keys on a peg board, and sure enough, one was hanging from the hook labeled Office. All he needed to do was to wait for everyone to go to sleep, and then he could easily sneak into the room to get to the files.

It sounded like a simple task, but Kyle knew that there were a zillion things that could go wrong, and he would need to act as carefully as possible.

XXXXXXXXX

Darkness had fallen by the time Mulder had made it to Greenbriar. The Gunmen had marked up a map that indicated some of the possible bunker entry points on the grounds of the estate. He wasn't sure how helpful Charlie's directions would be, but once he got his bearings, he was able to locate their meetup spot relatively quickly.

"In here," Charlie whispered, his voice hoarse. He pulled Mulder into what looked like a gardening shed; after bolting the door shut, he sidled over a metal shelving unit, motioning for Mulder to approach. As he neared the wall, he saw that there was a trap door, and followed Charlie into a tunnel and down a ladder.

Once they hit the ground, Mulder realized that there was enough room for him to stand up straight. Twenty meters away, they turned, and Mulder was blinded by fluorescent lighting. He could have been in any office building in America, but he was actually in an underground structure that connected to one of the most exclusive hotels on the East Coast.

"Marita got me in," Charlie quietly explained, hustling Mulder through a complicated series of twists and turns. "But if I leave the grounds, I won't be able to regain access."

They hit a deadend. Charlie placed his palm on the window of the door they faced, and within seconds the double doors opened, and then quickly shut behind them once they crossed the threshold. To Mulder, it was as though he had walked into a cleaner duplicate of Langley's computer lair. There were half a dozen monitors, a close circuit television, and a handful of computer towers scattered along the far wall. The other three were covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and there were several lamps sitting on the conference table in the center of the room.

"How did you get in here?" Mulder asked, nodding at the key card Charlie slid into his back pocket.

"Marita," shrugged Charlie, a small smile playing at his lips. His expression quickly turned more serious as he sat down at the workstation.

"You took a big risk in calling me on my cell phone," Mulder tested his brother-in-law; he couldn't quite tell whether Charlie was taking the situation as seriously as he should.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I used a scrambler," her argued. "And I knew that you would be overly cautious in getting here. I just hope that you didn't tell my sister where you went."

Mulder sank down on a chair. "Haven't talked to her," he stated. "So what is this big piece of news, Charlie? Or are you wasting everyone's time? You do know that your wife is convinced you're having an affair."

"I'll explain everything when this is over," Charlie rubbed his jaw. "She'll understand."

After punching in keyboard commands, a digital photo appeared on one of the monitors. Eerily enough, it was a photo of the room in which they currently sat. "This was taken in October 1960," he explained, enlarging the photo.

"Before the presidential election," responded Mulder impatiently.

"Which means that my father was became in this whole mess during the Eisenhower administration, and quite possibly before," sighed Charlie.

Sure enough, William Scully was seated at the table, in full uniform. Mulder quickly spotted that cigarette smoking son-of-a-bitch, as well as the so-called well manicured man. "What else do you have, Charlie? We've seen similar photos before. What made you sound the alarm this time?"

"I have recordings," Charlie quietly answered. "Mulder, my father was assigned to infiltrate the Russian government. He talked about his postings with this group. I can't piece together much more, at least at this point. I need to go to Moscow to check out some stuff. Marita can get me on my a charter flight tomorrow night. All you need to do is to take me as far as the Virginia border, and I can get myself to JFK from there. Mulder, I need answers. You of all people should understand that."

Mulder chewed on his lip, staring hard at the younger man. He wondered whether his overriding feeling of complete and utter frustration was anything like what Scully dealt with whenever he ran off the rails with another theory. "And you really expect me not to tell anyone what you're doing?"

"We both know that if Bill's attorneys think that either Karen or Dana have a clue as to where I am, that they wouldn't be threatened to be found to be in contempt? You're in the clear at this point-they aren't going to risk calling you to the stand."

Mulder hated that Charlie had a point. "The only thing I can promise you is that I'll do whatever I can to prevent that from happening to either Dana or Karen," Mulder reluctantly agreed. "But why do you trust Marita?"

"Why did you?" retorted Charlie.

Touche, Mulder thought. Touche.

XXXXXXXXX

When Kyle heard Dana slowly make her way down the stairs, he pretended to be engrossed in his schoolwork. "Your Dad probably isn't going to make it home tonight," she said to him.

A feeling of relief washed through him. His father not being home would make it even easier for him to sneak into the office. "Okay," he shrugged, turning the page of his science textbook.

"I'm going to make us some tea," Hannah excused herself from the room, setting her book down on her chair.

Kyle groaned. That was a not-so-subtle hint that Dana wanted to speak with him, which she did. "I wanted to ask you to finish our conversation from this afternoon," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

As much as he didn't want to have a heart-to-heart conversation with his stepmother (or even a fake one at that), he needed to see if he could use this situation to his advantage. "I shouldn't have yelled at you," he apologized. "I know you care about Uncle Charlie. I just-I just needed something to be mad about."

He could tell just by looking at her eyes that he had surprised her. "We're all going to be okay, Kyle. Maybe not today or even tomorrow, but things will settle down soon."

"What kind of case did Dad have?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Skinner couldn't say," she said. "But he'll be home as soon as he can. I'm going to help Hannah with that tea."

XXXXXXXXX

Kyle waited until midnight before sneaking down the stairs, avoiding the creaky floorboards and tip-toeing past his brothers' rooms in an effort not to wake anyone. Bandit had tried to follow him, but was distracted by the cozy warmth of the blanket that Kyle tucked over him before he left the room. He didn't turn on any lights, causing him to fumble for the key and flashlight in the laundry room, and nearly knock over a kitchen stool. Only when he was finally settled on the office floor did he turn on his flashlight, and make his way through the files in the second drawer of the desk.

He couldn't find a folder with Nathan's name on it, which seemed weird to him. Will's file contained information about his ENT surgery, and had some other pieces of paper from a pediatrician's office in South Carolina. His own file was a bit thicker, with information from his doctor's office in Manhattan and a copy of his dental records. Dana's was definitely the largest; some of the pages looked old, and almost ripped when he tried to flip through them. He slid that file back in its place in the drawer, hoping no one would notice if it was damaged.

That left the Timeline folder. He drew a big breath and set it down on the floor. He tried to look over it quickly, but ended up becoming absorbed in its contents, and so he began to read from the beginning. Once his watch flipped to 1:00 AM, he knew he had to get to bed. Reluctantly, he put everything back, remembering to lock the door behind him. He quickly and quietly returned the key and flashlight to their places in the laundry room, and carefully made his way up the stairs.

Just as he was walking past his brothers' bedrooms, he heard Will's cries through the closed door to his nursery. He saw Dana emerge from the master bedroom. "Did Will wake you?" she yawned.

"I had to go to the bathroom anyway," Kyle shrugged, following her into Will's room.

"What's wrong, bullfrog?" Scully asked, pulling him out of the crib before sitting on the rocker, Will in her lap. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Will continued to sob, and she could barely make out him saying 'daddy' over and over. "You're okay, sweetheart," Scully comforted him.

After a couple of moments, Will opened his eyes and un-scrunched his face. He reached out to Kyle, who was awkwardly standing next to his younger brother, unsure of what to do. "Do you want to try? I think he wants you to hold him." Scully asked.

Kyle nodded, and leaned over to pick up his brother, who was still clutching Doggy. "Don't be scared," Kyle said, holding him close.

Scully got up from her seat, and motioned Kyle to sit down with the baby. Will settled down, and within a few minutes, he was back asleep. "You certainly have the magic touch," Scully smiled, gently placing Will back down in his crib. "Thanks for helping."

"I don't mind," Kyle said before he scaled the staircase up to his room. It wasn't until he finally drifted off to sleep that he realized it had been the first time he hadn't lied all night.

Meanwhile, Scully stood over Will's crib, watching him sleep. Putting both boys to bed earlier that evening had been more difficult than usual, as Mulder hadn't been there to read them their bedtime stories. Will in particular had been a challenge, fighting sleep while clutching Doggy and the giraffe. She rearranged his blanket, sadly smiling at her youngest son, praying that his father was safe. The cell phone tucked in the back pocket of her pajamas felt heavy, and all she could do was hope that it wouldn't ring.

XXXXXXXXX

Kyle stumbled down the stairs the next morning, cringing when heard the front doorbell ring. Although he had managed to drift off to sleep fairly easily, he had awoken during another bad dream, and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. He hadn't had a nightmare in several weeks, but it followed the same pattern as the others; he was a little older than his current age, and his father could not be found. He had searched for him everywhere, and by the time panic settled in, he had woken up in a cold sweat.

What made this dream different from its previous incarnations was that he was carrying a baby girl, and for some reason, that gave him a strange feeling.

As he had stared up at his bedroom ceiling, looking at his glow-in-the-dark stars, worrying about his dream, a thought came to mind. An incredibly obvious thought.

The safe. If there were anything to be kept secret in the house, wouldn't it belong in the safe, and not in the back of a desk drawer? While he still wanted to go through (and understand) everything in the Timeline folder, he knew that he absolutely needed to open the wall safe. But how? Perhaps Chloe could help-at the very least, she should be able to provide some guidance.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Preston bellowed after shutting front door behind him, jarring Kyle back to reality. "But I wanted to forewarn you."

He held up a newspaper, extending his hand in Dana's direction. From his perch on the stairs, Kyle couldn't read the text, but he could see his stepmother's face on the front cover, staring back at him.