After the kids have breakfast and Scully wanders into the kitchen yawning, Mulder tells them all to behave while he's gone and earns several eye rolls. "Dad, we always behave," Page protests.

"Really?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Page squirms, and he wonders if she's also thinking about how she and Sammy got busted a couple of weeks earlier for dumping unfolded laundry all over their siblings' beds because they were eager to go hang out with friends. "Well, almost always," she mumbles.

"I'm always good, though," William solemnly insists, earning laughs from Christopher and both of his twin brothers.

"Yeah, right," David crows.

"Good compared to you!" is his younger brother's indigent retort. David just looks at his twin and shrugs.

"Come on," Mulder tells Sammy. "They'll probably argue about this for a while."

"Hey!" several youthful voices protest.

"Later," Sammy tells them with a cheerful wave.

"You don't mind that I said you're okay with gophering for your grandmother, right?" Mulder asks as they walk out to the car. Like Page, Sammy's getting old enough that he's more reluctant to volunteer him for things without letting him make an argument against it.

"Nah, I don't mind. Gramma Maggie asks Page to do stuff too, and we don't have to cook anything, right?" he asks, obviously thinking of Page being asked to help make food for the Labor Day lunch that had just passed.

"Correct. You're going to be bringing Halloween stuff down from the attic for her."

"Because I'm so strong," Sammy boasts, only half sarcastically.

"That's right. Just you wait, my boy, you'll be toting boxes and opening jars for evermore," Mulder teases him as they reach the car.

"That's okay, I'm getting a lot of moving stuff practice while we work on our movie set."

"Right." Mulder finds himself suddenly glad that the "movie sets" all live at his sister-in-law's house. Missy is being amazingly tolerant of the whole movie business especially considering that there's no end in sight. He'd of thought they'd be bored by now, but they're as eager to work on it as ever.

Sammy's knees knock against the dashboard as he climbs into the passenger seat. "Hey," Mulder says to get his attention. "You're taller than your mom now, so I guess you'd better adjust the seat so you have enough leg room."

"Won't she mind?" Sammy asks worriedly. "This is her seat, usually."

"I don't think so."

"Oh, okay."

Mulder watches his son reach down to adjust the seat, again wondering how tall he's going to be. Sammy might not think 5'4" is tall, but it's not short for a boy who has just turned 13.

They drive about a mile before Sammy gives him a sidelong look and he waits for Sammy to speak because he's obviously planning to. Eventually his boy asks, "Dad, Luke is really going to be able to keep his baby, without Adrianna?"

"He really is," Mulder replies, hoping to sound at ease. As glad as he is that he won't be left wondering what has happened to his grand-nephew, Luke is taking on a lot harder job than he realizes.

"So... the baby can't be adopted just because Luke won't agree to it?"

"That's how the law works, Buddy." Mulder shoots him a quick smile before looking back at the road. "Both parents have to agree to put their baby up for adoption or it can't happen legally." For a moment he finds himself thinking about William's adoption in his other-when, but of course he can't tell his older son about that sort of thing.

"I didn't know a guy could do anything to keep his baby from being given away if he wanted to keep it," Sammy remarks.

"It didn't used to be like that," Mulder offers. "Laws got changed, though. Well, in most states. Utah still makes it hard for a dad to keep his baby, but in most states what the dad wants counts as much as what the mom wants."

"If the baby's even born," Sammy says rather darkly. This reminds Mulder that Sammy's health teacher had sent home a letter this semester warning parents that birth control, abortion, and childbirth would all be part of the curriculum. It makes him wonder if adoption isn't considered part of that, or if they just haven't gotten that far yet.

"Well, yeah."

"Hmm. I'm glad that the laws got changed so either parent gets to keep the baby if they want it." Sammy turns to look out the window then.

"Me too."

Sammy looks back at him. "We're going to get to see the baby at Christmas now, right?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Then I'm really glad the laws got changed, Dad."

"Me too."

"You think Luke's gonna be a good dad?" Sammy wants to know.

"I hope so. I know he's going to do the best he can for his little boy, or he wouldn't have tried to keep him." They pull up to a stop sign. Mulder glances over at his son. "How about you, do you plan to be a dad?"

Sammy's look of surprise is almost comical. "Of course!"

"Yeah?"

"Sure." Sammy's blue eyes suddenly look slightly wary. "But is it wrong that I hope I have all boys?"

Mulder finds himself wondering what Sammy imagines he means by "all" but doesn't ask. "I don't think it's wrong. But if you have a little girl, you'll almost certainly find that you love her as much as you would a boy."

"Well... I'm going to wait until I marry someone really awesome before I have any kids, so hopefully she'll be better with girls than I am."

"What makes you think that you're bad with girls?" Mulder asks curiously.

Sammy wrinkles his nose. "I hate tea parties."

"That's it?"

"Tea parties are pretty important to little girls," Sammy says sagely.

"If you end up marrying a woman who doesn't like tea parties either, I'm sure your sisters would be happy to have tea parties with your daughters. Your mom's not a big tea party person either, but we've managed."

"Daughters?" There's a slight note of alarm to his boy's voice. Apparently the idea of multiple little girls is worrisome.

"Daughter?" he offers instead.

"Well, that's good." Sammy yawns. "I bet Zoe and Brianna would like to have tea parties, even when they're grown up. That's what I really worried about, but it sounds manageable."

Mulder looks down the road, but he takes the time that his head is turned to grin to himself. Sammy will probably grow up to be a great dad, but he's clearly not thinking about fatherhood in anything approaching a mature way if he thinks the biggest problem is that he might end up with a kid who love tea parties.

But his grin fades by the time he makes his turn. He really hopes that Luke has more sensible ideas about parenthood, but who can tell?

Teena is waiting for them at the door, so they don't even have to knock. Both of them hug her, and Mulder is suddenly glad that Sammy has no awareness that casual affection used to make his grandmother stiffen up. The different path that their lives have taken has obviously been good for her too.

"My goodness, you're growing like a weed!" Teena says fondly to her oldest grandson, unaware of her own son's scrutiny.

"Nah, I'm growing orderly," Sammy replies with a grin, making her smile. But then he runs a hand over his head. "Well, maybe my hair."

"I could make you an appointment with my hairdresser," Teena says dryly.

Mulder understands that his mother is joking, but Sammy doesn't notice the good humor in her eyes. "No, that's okay. We're going to the barber next week, right Dad?"

"Yep. All you boys have an appointment with a barber's chair after school on Wednesday."

"Oh, well, that's good then," Teena says as if she really meant her offer, obviously not wanting to embarrass him for missing the joke. "So, Sammy, the boxes I need are up in the attic, near the windows on the right. There are some Halloween stickers on the outside of the boxes because your baby sisters helped me put things away last year and couldn't spell Halloween yet."

"Probably still can't," Sammy remarks. "But they're not really babies anymore."

"They'll always be our babies," Teena tells him. "You'll see when you grow up."

"Okay but people are going to think I'm crazy if I call them babies when they're thirty."

"Hey, I still call Samantha my baby sister sometimes, and she's your mom's age," Mulder objects automatically. He then tries to ignore the painful squeeze in his heart that follows – how could he ever have thought that finally finding his sister would mean a complete stop too feeling pain when she entered her thoughts? Of course, now it was a different sort of pain… but hopefully one they could get past in time.

Unaware of Mulder's thoughts, Sammy tilts his head. "Yeah, you do, huh?"

"I do."

"Grandma, where do you want the boxes when I bring them down?" Sammy asks, apparently eager to get his task over with. No doubt Teena has baked cookies or brownies, and he's probably looking forward to them.

"If you could put them on the floor near the kitchen table, that'd be wonderful."

"I will!" he says, then trots off towards the stairs.

Mulder looks at his mother. "Which rooms are the curtains being changed in?"

"Living room and dining room. Maybe we should start in the dining room."

"Sounds good."

It only takes them half an hour to swap out the curtains in both rooms. They make a good team with him taking them down, handing her the current ones to fold and getting the new ones from her once she puts hooks on them.

Teena stands back once they're done the living room, and seems to be admiring the curtains. They're a rich orange color, obviously created with Halloween and Thanksgiving in mind. "There," she says with some satisfaction.

"They're how you want them?" Mulder asks, assuming that her answer will be yes.

"They are," she agrees with a slight nod, but her eyes cut to the doorway, making him wonder if Sammy has come back down with a new load of decorations. There's no one else there, though. This seems to relax her a little, and he's not sure why until she begins to speak again. "I'm going to be a great-grandmother after all, Fox."

"I know," he replies, thinking that she still would have been a great-grandmother even if his niece had been able to give the baby up like she wants to. He doesn't say this, though, because he thinks he understands what his mother is feeling – she'll be able to see this child growing, which is something that brings him a measure of relief too.

"His other grandparents will be driving him to his father," she notes, surprising him that she already is aware of this too. "That will be a long trip."

"Fairly," he agrees, thinking back to when Doggett had first driven his then eighteen-year-old sons up to Boston. Maybe they won't lollygag with a newborn in tow, and he knows that Doggett had stretched that first trip out a bit to have a little longer with them.

"I know the two oldest boys are close in age but their other kids are fairly young aren't they?" Teena asks, and he notes an element of tension to her voice, as if it's not as casual a question as it seems on the surface.

"Yes. Their oldest daughter, Hannah, is a few months younger than Sammy, and then there are the two little ones: Rebecca is four and Jon-Jon is a year old."

"Hmm. Are they planning to bring the girls with them?"

"I don't think so," Mulder tells her. "I think they plan to ask Dana and me to look after them. Not their youngest, though, I know I heard John grumbling about having to put a second car seat in his backseat for the trip. I guess he thinks it's a wasted effort considering he won't have Luke's baby long." Mulder imagines he'll be giving the car seat to Luke at the end of the trip.

"I'll do it," Teena announces abruptly.

He blinks. "Do what?"

"Take care of the girls while they're gone."

"Really?" Mulder asks, trying not to choke on the word. All he can think about is how much his mother had hated babysitting for Sammy and Page while they shopped for their first nanny.

"Yes, really." His mother looks slightly annoyed. "They're driving a new baby all the way up to Boston for us, so looking after their daughters while they do it is the least I can do."

For us? I guess that explains exactly how she felt about the adoption... "Right. I think they'll really appreciate that." Well, he thinks, at least Hannah and Rebecca are both considerably older than Sammy and Page were when she kept them during the Kryder case. Even Page had had barely been a year old at that point. "And I'm sure Hannah will be a big help keeping her little sister in line."

"I'm sure she will," Teena agrees. She looks around the living room. "Hopefully me staying at their house instead of hosting them here will be acceptable, though. There's not a lot to keep a four-year-old occupied with her for more than a few hours."

"I don't know," Mulder teases, thinking of one of the decorations Sammy has already brought down, a scale model of the Black Pearl that the kids had given her a few Halloweens before. "Rebecca loves pirates and you have your own pirate ship."

"Oh Fox," she says, shaking her head. But she's smiling too.

That Night

Showers have been taken, teeth have been brushed, and seven of the eight kids able to get to their bedrooms on their own two feet are on their way there now. April lingers, though, and eventually approaches Mulder. "Dad, can we talk?" she asks.

Mulder nods, looking over at Scully who is headed to their room to nurse Isaac. "Sure, why don't we talk in your room? You should be headed there about now," he reminds her, but he doesn't have the heart to put any effort into sounding remotely stern. April isn't one to try to get out of going to bed, so she must have something significant on her mind.

As soon as they reach her room, April perches on the bed. She lazily moves the leg dangling over the end of the bed, and doesn't look up at him as she speaks. "I, um, want to apologize about not being too excited about the baby," she tells him.

"April, you feel what you feel. There's no reason to apologize for it. All anyone can do is to moderate their behavior regardless of how they feel."

"Okay, so I'm sorry for acting bratty, then," she replies. "I think maybe I should explain something."

"What's that?" Mulder asks curiously. He and Scully have had their theories about why April has reacted the way she has, but they've never discussed them with April.

"Remember back a couple of years ago when William had an imaginary friend?" she asks, and he nods. They haven't talked much about it as a family, but everyone was relieved when William made real friends with the kids in his grade rather than continuing to depend on a girl no one could see to comfort him. "He called her Angel. That's when I finally figured something out."

"What's that?" Mulder eyes her warily: if she's about to tell him that his stillborn daughter haunts the house, he's not sure he's going to take it very well.

Her foot traces a simple pattern in the air while she tries to gather her thoughts. Eventually she takes a deep breath and looks up at him. "I figured out that one of my first memories was of my sister's funeral."

"Oh." Mulder suddenly feels like he's been punched in the gut. April had only been two months past her third birthday when Angel was laid to rest, so he'd been sure that she was too young to remember.

Looking down, April goes on. "I've always had the memory of you and mommy looking sad, and Page and Sammy and even grandma Teena crying as we looked at a white box, but until William started talking about Angel this and Angel that, I never realized it was a funeral. I mean, I was a little older when we buried you and maybe I should've known that it was the same sort of thing but you had a regular sized coffin, not a tiny white box…." When she looks up at him again, there are unshed tears in her eyes.

He knows that they're in his eyes too. "I…" He wants to apologize for the memory, but it doesn't really make sense to. "I didn't know you remembered when Angel died."

April shrugs. "Maybe because I'd been so excited to finally have a little sister," she says, and he feels a fresh burst of heartache, both for her being robbed of the little sister she'd wanted so badly and for the child neither of them ever got to know. "But I'm glad I didn't understand that memory when William, and then Zoe and Brianna were born, Dad."

"Why's that?" he asks. But he's pretty sure he knows what she's going to say.

"I wasn't afraid that something bad would happen to them or Mom."

"But once you understood what the memory was…" Mulder prompts.

"Once I got what the memory was about, I began to realize that bad things happen to people all of the time. I mean, Mommy was just stopped at a red light like she should and then bam, no more baby sister. And that's just, like one bad thing that can happen. You got kidnapped, Uncle Alex lost his arm, Addy got abused, and Cousin Drew got cancer… bad things happen to people minding their own business all the time."

"Are you still worried about bad things happening like this?" Mulder asks gently. April has been able to hide her anxiety, but if it's on-going, it should be addressed. Possibly by a professional.

"Not too much," April says, and he studies her face, hoping not to see signs that she's trying to cover anything up. She's either telling the truth or needs less effort to lie than he thinks is possible, so he relaxes a little. "Most days nothing bad happens. Once Isaac was born, and nothing bad happened, I realized that I was being kind of silly."

"That's good."

April now squirms. "But…"

"But what?"

"Once I stopped worrying that something bad would happen when the baby was born because he got born and nothing did happen that was bad, I still couldn't be excited about him being here. I think I didn't practice enough or something," April says. She looks embarrassed and more than a little confused.

Mulder gives her a quick hug before going back to where he was standing. "A lot of adults have trouble being as happy as they want about a new baby too, so there's nothing abnormal about needing time to warm up to your baby brother."

She frowns. "I thought that was like a hormonal thing that made the new mom feel weird stuff."

Mulder shakes his head. "That's part of what causes some women to be depressed after their baby has been born, but there have been a bunch of studies that show new fathers can get depressed too – and that's not due to female hormones. People's feelings get out of whack over changes of all sorts, April, when they're hormonal or not. And a baby is a pretty damn big change, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, but it's not like I have to raise him," April objects mildly.

"No, but you do have to be his big sister for the rest of your life, and that's a pretty big responsibility too." He feels a bit bad making this point, especially when he knows that his own sister feels like he's letting her down lately. You don't need to be someone's parent to love them enough to want to solve all of their problems, he thinks, but he doesn't say this to April.

This doesn't stop her from sensing what he's feeling though, and it makes him wonder again about the things that make her and William a little different from the rest of the kids. "Dad…" April begins hesitantly. "I hope Aunt Samantha stops being angry about everything soon too."

"Me too, Kiddo. Me too."

"I am glad we have Isaac, though, now, Dad," April tells him.

He doesn't ask her if that's only been since he smiled at her that morning. "Good."

"Are you going to tell Mom what I told you?"

"Should I?"

April shrugs. "If she asks, it's okay if you tell her."

He tries not to smile – it's easy to see that she's okay with not having to have another long conversation on the topic if he's willing to have one in her stead. "Okay. Good night, April. Love you."

"Night, Dad. Love you too."

He leaves the light on as he exists the room, knowing that April can be trusted to put herself to bed in a few minutes.

If Scully does ask about April's improved demeanor surrounding their youngest, he'll bring the conversation up, but otherwise he won't. If April had truly wanted her mother to know everything she'd said, she'd of asked Scully to be part of the discussion.