Bending of the Bow (13/13)
KMNAHILL and MD1016




      All things end in the Tao         
       as rivers flow into the sea.
     -Tao Te Ching



September 7, 1996.
7:21 AM.


They took his gun, well, both guns; but Mulder wasn't surprised at that.
He seriously doubted he'd be allowed to attend this meeting armed. He also
knew that they would expect the gun so he brought it along and played out
the game. No sense in disappointing them.

He looked around the room, appreciating the decor. Scully would love this,
he thought. The dark paneling shone with recent polishing, the chairs were
covered with fine leather, probably butter soft to the touch. Mulder was
sure that the old wood was a perfect cover for the video cameras and
taping devices he assumed covered the room. A nicely decorated prison. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he was a prisoner. One glance at the
two neanderthals guarding the door confirmed that. They were both
well-over six, three, definitely armed, and probably weighed in at over
two-fifty.

"Mr. Mulder," said a gray-haired man in cultured tones, "I must say this
is a surprise. I don't suppose you'd care to tell me how you got this
number?" He was dressed impeccably, every hair in place, his tie a
masterpiece of refinement. Mulder had met him before.

"I don't think so, if you don't mind. Good contacts are so hard to find
these days," Mulder quipped.

"So true, so true. Well, it's no matter. I'm sure you know that we tend to
move fairly often and this office was about to close anyway. What can we do
for you, Mr. Mulder?" He waved the young agent into a nearby chair, and
chose a seat for himself.

Now that the time had come, Mulder was at a loss for how to proceed. His
confusion must have shown on his face.

"Allow me to assist you. I understand you have recently found your sister.
Is this correct?"

Mulder's expression turned to stone.

"Really, Mr. Mulder, you should have known we would be interested in why
you were contacting us," the older man chided. "We have our own methods of
gaining information. I assume this has something to do with her."

Mulder nodded. "I want you to leave her alone. I want you to leave her
family alone," he said, grimly.

"I'm sure you do. No brother could want otherwise for his sister. But you
must know, Mr. Mulder, that your family has long held a special interest
for us. Much time has been spent on them. Surely you can appreciate my
reluctance to make you such a promise."

"I don't care what you do to me," said Mulder, "I want you to leave them
alone."

"So noble, as always. But we're not interested in you. That choice was
made long ago."

Mulder jumped to his feet, ready to strangle this smug piece of shit right
where he sat, until the quick movement of the guards, pushing him back into
his chair, reminded him that this was not the time to be losing his temper.

"Fox, may I call you Fox? Allow me to give you some advice.  You must
learn to control your emotions. They only cause you to make mistakes in
the long run." He nodded to one of the men in the room, who left through a
side door. "We've been following your movements through a colleague of ours
for some time. We knew when you found your sister, and we know how you
found her. We know you rescued her from the, er, more enthusiastic
maneuvering of said colleague. But for you to call us, that came as a
surprise, as I mentioned before. I had to ask myself why, you see. So I
gave certain orders last night after your telephone call."

The door opened to reveal the return of the guard who was now holding
another figure - Sam! She was barely conscious, leaning heavily to one
side, seemingly unaware of Mulder's presence. Mulder leapt to his feet,
ready to rush to her but was again prevented by a pair of beefy hands.
Scully! My God! Sam was with Scully! "What have you done to her, you son
of a bitch! If you've hurt her... if you've hurt Scully...."

"Calm yourself, Mr. Mulder. Your sister is fine. So is your lovely
partner. And your friends for that matter." The older man waved his hand
negligently. "You must excuse the rather time consuming directions we gave
you last night but I needed that time, you see, to be sure we could
retrieve your sister. She only just arrived. I wanted to be sure I got the
truth from you, Agent Mulder, and I was sure that your sister being here
would guarantee this. Now suppose we begin."

Mulder's stomach was in knots and the lump in his throat threatened to
choke him. "I have a tape," he said in a sickened tone of voice.

"Ah, yes, this one I believe." The man reached into his suit coat and
pulled out the digital tape which Mulder had left in Scully's safekeeping.

Mulder was lost. He had nothing now. Nothing to bargain with. Nothing to
hope for. He looked helplessly at his sister. I'm sorry, Sam, he thought.
I'm sorry I let you down again. That I couldn't protect you now, any more
than I could when I was twelve.

"I have not had the time to decode this. Perhaps you would be kind enough
to tell me its contents and save us all the trouble."

"I, . . . I don't know the entire contents. The person who gave it to me
told me that it contained information about certain projects that are
ongoing; projects which are not totally sanctioned."

The gray-haired man leaned back, his eyes narrowed, thoughtfully. "And you
had decided to give us this tape? You expect me to believe you would not
use this tape for yourself? That you, and your partner, would give this up
for a sister you don't even know?"

Sam was reviving now, Mulder noted. She did not struggle in her captors
arms but instead was gazing intently at her brother, listening to the
on-going exchange.

"Well, Mr. Mulder?"

"We were going to give you the tape in exchange for your promise to leave
Sam and her family alone."

"I see." The older man rose to his feet and paced around the room. "And
you would have trusted our word?"

Mulder shook his head. "You don't know where I got this tape. You don't
know that there isn't another copy. If you ever bothered my family again,
all deals would be off." It wasn't much Mulder knew, trying to bluff his
way out of this, but it was all he had.

"True. You make an interesting opponent, Agent Mulder. I am inclined to
accept your deal." He held up a hand when Mulder's head shot up in
surprise. "I am inclined. But, I cannot speak for my colleagues. Wait
here."  He nodded to the man holding Sam, who moved her to a chair. By the
time Mulder looked back, the older man had disappeared through the door.

The waiting stretched out interminably for Mulder. Questions to Sam were
met with silence though she gave him a slight nod when he asked if she was
all right. Despite the reassurances of his "host", he couldn't help but
worry about Scully and what she was doing. If Sam was gone, how would
Scully  have reacted?  What would Randy do? Hold on, Scully, he prayed.  
Don't do anything  yet. Wait for me. Wait.

The door opening gave Mulder a jolt. The last few days of too little sleep
and too much tension were taking there toll.

"Your offer has been accepted, Mr. Mulder. The tape has been decoded and
we noted that it had not been tampered with." The older man moved with
confidence into the room. Settling into a deep burgundy colored chair, he
looked thoughtfully at the young agent. "You should know that the projects
involving your sister have been over for some time. That was why she was
released when she was still a child. In fact, she would have been returned
to your family but there were old debts that had to be paid and she was the
price. I don't expect you to understand that but I thought you should know."

"And the project involving Samantha's daughter?"

Sam's head jerked up.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you about that, Agent Mulder. But you needn't
worry. Your deal included young Karen. She will not be bothered in future.
None of your family, current members or future members, will be bothered."
He stood up and Mulder stood with him. The older man pinned him with his
gaze. "I trust you understand, Mr. Mulder, that we, of course, do not
intend to be bothered by your interference in the future, either."  Mulder
nodded slowly, know he was finally sealing the fate of the X-Files.  The
man smiled.  "Good. You're free to go."

Mulder walked over and helped his sister to her feet. Dazed with the 
suddenness of it all, Mulder realized the running, the terror, the
nightmare  was over.  It was all over.  Without a word, they left the room
together.

**********************

September 7, 1996.
Interstate 95.


            
The morning sun was clear and cool around the car, as Mulder piloted back
to DC.  His immediate concern for Scully and the others had been
eliminated by a brief call.

     **No, we're fine, Mulder.  Well, all except for Frohike.  I've duct
     taped him to a folding chair and I'm forcing him to sit through a
couple
     of hours of "Sightings"and "Murder She Wrote."**  There had been
     a palpable taste of revenge in her voice.

The man would never be the same again.

Scully had briefly explained that one minute she and Sam were talking and
the next she was trying not to breath in the green gas that seemed to come
out of nowhere.  The next thing she could remember, Frohike was crouched
over her, trying to give her mouth to mouth.  Of course, he hadn't
bothered to check to see that she was, in fact, already breathing.  The
duct tape had been lying on the floor within arm's reach.  The rest was
history.

It had been more than twenty minutes since he'd hung up the phone with
Scully, and not a word had been spoken in the cabin of the car since. 
Once Mulder thought Sam might say something, but instead she turned to
stare off into the pastels of the countryside, running her fingers lightly
over the passenger door's arm rest.

"We've got about an hour's drive back to DC."  His voice seemed
unnaturally loud against the quiet hum of the engin.

"Hmh."

Was she chilly?  Should he turn on the heat for her?  Was she thinking 
about Randy and Karen? Or maybe how her life might be different  with a
brother in it?  Or was she coming up with a way to get as far  away from
him as possible?  He had to know.  "Maybe we could talk  a little bit
about what you remember.  If you have questions, you know,  I could fill
in some of the gaps."

She sighed and ran a hand down her neck.  The drugs in the gas she'd been
exposed to seemed to be wearing off, but her voice still sounded as if her
throat was bothering her.  "It doesn't matter what I remember . . . IF I
remember -"

"Of course it matters!  Sam, why are you so adamant about this?"  He tried
to keep his voice just below a roar.  But she was just as exasperating as
an adult as she had been as a child.  "You remember me.  You know I'm your
brother.  Jesus!  Samantha, we have so much catching up to do.  Do you want
to see Mom?"

"Mom?"  The hesitation registered as a small intake of breath.  Then she
shook her head.  "Why do you want to dredge up the past?  The sooner we
begin to rebuild our lives, and look towards the future,  the better."

"I totally agree," Mulder's serious tones incited her more.  "So tell me
what you remember, Samantha.  And we'll build off of that.  Tell me the
truth."

She laughed at his sudden passion.  "The truth?  You don't want the
truth.  You want your version of the truth.  And Fox, you can search until
the day that you die and you still won't ever find it.  Because it only
exists in your twisted, warped memories."

"What are you talking about?"

She gave him a look that every older brother knows like the back of his
hand.  That let-me-tell-you-how-stupid-you-are patent expression. 
"Aliens, Fox?  Space ships?"

"I know what I saw.  I saw the lights.  I saw the aliens!"

She countered without thinking.  "You saw Dad's cronies in white
contamination suits -"

"They were aliens!  I couldn't move!"

"You were drugged."

"NO!"

"Yes!  And so was Mom.  And so was I.  They gassed the whole damn house."

"NO!"

"YES!"

"I remember -"

"You remember what they wanted you to remember!  What you chose to
remember!"

"NO!"

"When you can't deal with an experience, you change it.  You twist it. 
You always have.  You warp it in to something you CAN deal with.  Ghosts,
monsters, magic, aliens . . ..  And what's really scary, Fox, is that you
choose to believe that your sister was abducted by aliens who performed
horrible experiments on her and held her hostage for twenty five years
rather than accept the fact that your father was a bastard.  That's beyond
denial.  That's sick."  

The car swerved to the side of the road and came to an abrupt halt on the
grainy shoulder of the highway.  The muscles in Mulder jaw rippled in
waves as he ground his molars into the frustration and anger that flashed
through him.  Anger?  No, not anger.  Torment.  Men in suits?  Gas?  All
those endless years of vainly searching.  

George Hale had been searching for elves.

Sam released a tremendous breath and dropped her hands from their brace on
the dashboard.  She wetted her lips and spoke again.  "Fox."

"Sam -"

"No.  Let me say this before . . . before I change my mind."  She crossed
her arms tightly against her body, and her voice shrank down to almost a
whisper of the ferocity that she'd shown earlier.  "Fox.  I'm not your
sister."

"Yes, I you -"

"Samantha Mulder is dead."

His throat ceased up and constricted around the words that he was wanting
to say.  The denial.  The rejection of that last utterance out of her
mouth.  Mulder fought gaging as the entire contents of his stomach balled
up and slammed against his lungs.  He managed a weakened, "No."

"When she was taken from her home and family, she begged for them to take
her back."  Idly, as if she were relating some distant even, Sam's left
hand ran down the seat belt across her chest.  "They never listened,
though.  Instead they tortured her."

"What are you -"

"Then one day - maybe a month or two after - her father came.  He didn't
talk to her, but he as there in the room, watching over her.  She looked
up from the table . . . or chair . . . whatever it was that they strapped
her to, and she tried to reach out for him.  She begged for him to save
her.  To take her home.  Not to leave her there.  She promised that she'd
be a good girl from that moment forward."  

"He was there?"  Mulder's  disbelief left his voice airy.  "He knew all
along?"  This is the truth, he told himself.  And the truth was making him
sick.

Samantha shrugged.  "He left her.  That man left his daughter with
strangers who were hurting her.  He heard her cries.  He heard her
pleas.  And it was at that moment Samantha Mulder died."

What she was telling him was worse than anything he could have imagined. 
Worse than the horrible, hateful things he had feared his father might
have been a part of when he first found out about the elder Mulder's
involvement with the Consortium.  Mulder shook his head and leaned it back
against the rest.  "But you didn't die, Sam.  You're a survivor."

Her eyes focused on the nothing that waited for them just beyond the reach
of the still headlights.  Mulder could see that she was remembering, but
her stony face revealed nothing of what she might have been feeling.  "I
used to blame myself for what was done to me.  I thought I must've done
something horrible.  That *I* was horrible.  Then I blamed him.  Them. 
But as I got older, I decided that it really wasn't anyone's fault.  Not
mine.  Not his.  Not yours.  It was just chance.  Rotten luck that I
happened to be born the daughter to a father who didn't love me, and a
mother that wasn't strong enough to."

"I loved you, Sam."

She dismissed his gentle revelation with closed eyes.  "You hated and
resented me."

"No, I -"

Her eyes snapped open and pinned him to the seat.  "You were a big bully,
Fox."

"I was twelve.  That's how older brothers are."  

Sam's  look softened, and in her face he saw something new, something that
he recognized from a long forgotten dream.  A small, sad smile in the
corner of her eye.  His sister, Samantha, had the saddest eyes.  "Maybe."  

"When they took you, Sam, I tried to help.  You were calling for me to
help you -"

"I remember calling for you.  You said my name, but you didn't help me.  
I was sure you hated me."

"Hated you?"  His throat erupted in a chortle.  "You can't know how hard I
looked for you.  I devoted my life to finding you."

"I know.  Your . . . partner . . ." there was a small smile on her lips as
she said her name, "Dana gave me an idea.  But don't you understand, Fox? 
You devoted your life to finding the eight-year old who was taken out of
her bed twenty-five years ago.  But I'm not her."

"Of course you are.  Time doesn't change that."

"Time changes a lot."  In her eyes he caught a glimpse of just what she
might have been trying to tell him without saying the words.  The pain and
fear, and loneliness.  Things he knew all too well; but in a way that could
never match her experiences.  What he saw scared him.  "Look, I can't be
the sister that you lost.  I'm simply not that person any more.  That
little girl died on the operating table.  She died the second her parents
abandoned her.  She's gone."  

Then, as if a veil of light broke through the despair in her soul, a ray
of hope gleamed from her face.  "But, Fox,  if you want . . . maybe . . .
you and *I* could try being friends.  Then maybe . . . maybe I could learn
to be your sister again."

Maybe was a promise of a chance for a future.  "That's all I can ask for."

"Good.  Because for now, that's all I can give."

***************

Epilogue        


September 16, 1996.
Scully Residence.

               
It was more than a week later when the welcome home party was thrown in
Sam's honor, along with her family.  The general understanding, however,
was that it was also a welcoming back for Mulder and Scully - married or
no.  Early in the evening toasts had been made celebrating unity and
family and friendship and love.  As Scully had hoped, it was a good night
for healing.

In the comfortable living room, the atmosphere was light and warm, as  was
typical for the Scully clan.  Outside the French doors, the children 
played in the backyard and Karen had happily found herself included in  a
mud war - boys against girls - as all pre-pubescent games should be.  
With the squeals of laughter that came from her daughter, Samantha 
actually found herself smiling.

Scully spied Mrs. Mulder and Randy in a quiet corner, chatting quietly
after he'd brought her a fresh beer.  Nothing like getting to know the in-
laws, Scully thought.  His wife, however, was finding it hard to relate to
a mother after so long.  She sat across the room, half watching her
daughter playing like a healthy nine year old.  Scully recalled that in
their initial meeting, Sam had commented on how much Mrs. Mulder had
changed, and her mother sadly smiled, and with a nod, remarked how Sam had
changed as well.

That first meeting had been brief, but emotional.  The next day, they'd
tried spending the day together and ended up sitting in silence for hours
with nothing to say.  Well, nothing that either was willing to say.  But
Mrs. Scully had reminded Dana, "She needed time to open up to Fox.  She'll
need some time for her mother, as well.  She hasn't had a life that leads
to easy trust."  Truer words were never spoken.

So it came as no surprise that Sam was a little distant.  And even though
everyone was painfully aware of the odd tension being generated, no one
mentioned it. 

Most of the focus was thrown to the center of the room where Jen and
Caroline, the chatter boxes, sat bickering over an X-Men board game that
had been meant for the grandchildren.

Jen had already selected her piece and was trying to decipher the box top
when Caroline whined, "I want to be Rogue.  She's got the best butt."

"Oh my god."  Whimpered the small woman next to her, and she held up her
hand in defiance.

Scully rolled her eyes, shaking her head.  Such different worlds.  Like
night and day.

From her spot on the couch, sandwiched between her brothers, Scully
frowned at her partner sitting quietly by the darkened fireplace.  He'd
started out the evening  quietly observing and joining in on the
occasional quips passed playfully between family members.  But Scully
recognized the warning sign of his withdrawal in to his own little world -
his set jaw, and darkened eyes - and she handed her soda off to Bill, Jr.
and pulled herself off the couch.

Mulder watched her stand and cross to him, stepping over the board game
with a few minor protests from it's players in the process.  Leave it to
Scully to make her presence known.  He'd noticed how much she enjoyed
sparing with her sisters-in-law.  It was good that she had some friends,
he thought.  Some female companionship to help balance the male dominated
world of her professional life.  And private life, he added with a smug
smile.  

When she stood over him, he reached for her hand and pulled her down to
him, settling her comfortably in his lap.  Her body eased close to his,
and he tried to remember when he'd held her last.  In the motel that night
when they'd both been so tired?  No.  It'd been weeks since he'd really
held her.  Weeks since he'd made love to her.  That realization left his
brow furrowed.

With a light kiss to her ear, he whispered sweetly, "Randy and Mom seem to
be hitting it off."

She nodded with a smile and looked up at his serious gaze.  "Hey, why the
long face, sailor?"

His eyes seemed especially green in the soft glow of the living room
lamps.  "I could ask the same to you."

She shrugged.  It wasn't that she was necessarily blue.  It was more like
everything in her life was radically changing.  "I don't know.  I guess .
. . the X-Files.  They've been so much a part of our lives for so long.  I
love them.  I love working on them with you.  But now . . ..  They're
essentially over, aren't they?"

"I sold out . . . to the highest bidder."  His eyes fell on Samantha, and
somehow it didn't seem like such a high price.

"Do you regret it?"

"I have my sister back, and a niece, and a brother-in-law I never knew
about -"

"And lost a father, and my sister."  Her voice was quiet and reminiscent.

"Do YOU regret it?"

"I have you."





The End.

Here ends The Way saga.  Thanks for playing.