Boone, NC
Thursday
4:18 PM


"You mind telling me why the FBI is so interested in this file?" 
Sheriff Paxton kept one hand atop the folder, a decidedly 
suspicious glint in his eyes.

"It's an open kidnapping case, isn't it?" Mulder's answer was mild, 
his face guileless.

"Depends on your definition of open. That case hasn't seen any 
action in almost five months." Paxton's words might be directed 
toward Mulder, but his eyes were busy conducting a geological 
survey of Scully's figure.

Mulder clamped his teeth together until his jaw ached. "Did you 
find the kidnapper?"

That captured the sheriff's attention and cooled his tone another ten 
degrees. "You know we didn't."

"Then it's an open case." With great effort Mulder refrained from 
uttering any one of at least five follow-up digs that popped into his 
head. Barely.

Scully shot him a quelling look before smiling politely at Paxton. 
"I'm sure you're very busy, but before you leave us, Sheriff, is 
there anything not in this file that, in your expert opinion, you feel 
we should know about this case?"

Mulder shoved his hands into his pockets and tucked chin to chest, 
chewing on his lower lip to stifle a grin. No one could schmooze 
the locals better than Scully--in one sentence she'd managed to ask 
Paxton to leave while still stroking his ego. He watched from 
beneath his lashes as Paxton smoothed silver hair, chest puffed 
with self-importance.

"I run a thorough, by-the-book department here, ma'am. If it's 
important to the case, it'll be in that file. Whoever took that little 
girl--if someone did indeed take her--was very careful not to leave 
a speck of trace evidence. Sad to say, there just wasn't much to 
investigate."

Mulder looked up, eyebrows raised. "*If* someone took her?"

Paxton shrugged, his gaze crawling over Scully's body as he spoke. 
"Like I said, we found no evidence of a kidnapper. This is a close-
knit community, Agent Mulder. Little girls don't get snatched from 
their yards without somebody noticing."

"What are you saying?" Scully folded her arms across her chest--
whether in irritation or self-defense, Mulder couldn't have said.

"If you ask me, I think the child wandered off. Maybe she was 
angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans, I dunno. 
It's easy enough to get lost out here, turned around until you don't 
know what direction you're headed. Maybe a simple sulk turned 
into more than she bargained for."

Mulder didn't attempt to hide his scorn. "You think she just headed 
into the forest with no food, no water? Do you really believe a 
nine-year-old girl could survive for three days under those 
circumstances?"

Paxton's eyes narrowed. "Well, she didn't exactly survive, now, did 
she?"

Mulder bristled. "That's..."

"...an interesting theory, Sheriff." Scully laid a restraining hand on 
Mulder's arm as she reached for the folder. "Thank you for sharing 
your thoughts with us. We'll let you know if we need anything 
else."

Paxton glared at Mulder for a moment longer before relinquishing 
the file. He tipped his chin at Scully-- "Ma'am" -- and swaggered 
out of the room.

Mulder yanked a chair away from the table and sat, muttering 
something that sounded suspiciously like "redneck" under his 
breath. Scully eased into her own seat with a bit more finesse, lips 
twitching.

"Mulder, let it go."

"'Angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans'? What 
kind of a lame theory is that?"

"I'm forced to point out that he'd consider your own theory to be 
equally without merit. We both know he's fallen off the track, so..."

"Fallen off the track? You're kidding, right?" Mulder leaned in 
closer, jerking his thumb toward the door. "He'd need a map to 
locate the track. Maybe if he kept his mind on business he'd have 
some answers for what happened to that little girl."

"Kept his mind on business? Mulder, are you jealous?" She poked 
her tongue into her cheek, but the grin still tugged at the corners of 
her mouth. "The man must be at least sixty years old."

"Yeah, well there's nothing wrong with his eyesight, given the way 
he kept taking inventory."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we look at the file now?"

Despite its eerie similarity to Claire's case, the investigation into 
Jessica Chapman's disappearance and reappearance offered little 
insight into what really had happened. As they read through the 
documentation, Scully found herself drawn again and again to a 
black-and-white crime scene photo of weeds crushed and flattened 
in the shape of a little girl's body.

"It says here that there were no outward signs of physical trauma," 
Mulder said. "No bruises or contusions. She was clean and dressed 
in the same clothing as when she disappeared. Yet she was 
completely unresponsive, even to painful stimulus."

"There could be many explanations for that, Mulder. Trauma to the 
brain can occur from something as simple as a sudden, violent 
motion of the head, the so-called 'shaken baby syndrome.' Not to 
mention the number of chemical compounds that would be 
undetectable on a routine toxicology screen." Scully flipped 
through several pages of witness statements before locating the 
autopsy report.

"Her older sister Theresa, age...14, found her." Mulder arranged 
his features in a neutral expression. "She was coming home from a 
friend's house, cutting across the backyard. After several 
unsuccessful attempts to wake Jessica, she ran and got her mother, 
who called police and EMTs."

"Oh my God." Scully's soft gasp pulled his attention from the 
paperwork. Her gaze flickered rapidly across the autopsy report.

"What is it?"

"The coma... I'd guessed it was due to internal damage. But this..." 
She swallowed; shook her head. "A CT scan at the hospital 
showed, and the autopsy confirms, that a small section of Jessica's 
cerebral cortex near the parietal lobe was excised."

"Excised? You mean someone cut out a piece of her brain?" 

"Yes--" Scully licked her lips, "--and no. Though a section of brain 
tissue was clearly missing, she displayed none of the 
corresponding effects of major brain surgery--her head had not 
been shaved, there was no incision, and the skull remained intact. 
Mulder..." She shook her head as if trying to break out of a daze. 
"It's as if the tissue was neatly extracted without cutting her open."

Mulder stared at her, vindication and dread churning his stomach. 
"And how could that be accomplished, Dr. Scully?"

"It couldn't. Not by any medical technology currently available."

"On this planet, anyway."

She ignored his jibe. "I've never seen anything like this. According 
to the report, Jessica's EEG showed massive amounts of 
electroconductivity."

"What does that mean?"

"It's analogous to an electrical storm across the brain's surface. A 
comprehensive, rapid misfiring of neurons that essentially 
paralyzed brain function."

"As in brain death?"

"Clinically, it's the antithesis of brain death, but with the same 
impact on the body's systems--an irreversible vegetative state." 
Scully flipped the report closed and looked up at him, face grim. 
"A condition similar, in some respects, to what you experienced 
after exposure to the artifact. In Jessica's case, her body's systems 
began to shut down. Her parents eventually made the decision to 
terminate life support."

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw. Weariness settled across his 
shoulders like a heavy blanket, and he could read exhaustion in 
Scully's eyes. "We need to talk to Jessica's family. Tonight."

"I have the home number right here. I'll call and find out if they're 
willing to see us." Scully pulled out her cell phone, but made no 
move to dial the number.

"Scully?"

She sighed. "It's been six months. I hate to reopen wounds just 
beginning to heal."

"We have no choice, Scully, and neither do they. They're witnesses 
in an ongoing investigation into the kidnapping and murder of not 
only their own child, but others as well. Claire's life may depend 
on what we can learn from Jessica."

"I know that, Mulder.  I also know how it feels to lose a child. So 
I'd appreciate a bit less logic and a little more compassion, if you 
don't mind." She stood up, phone in hand, pointedly ignoring 
Mulder's stunned expression. "Why don't you see if you can make 
a copy of that file? I'll meet you by the front door."

She'd marched halfway across the room when he found his voice. 
"I was there too, Scully."

She jerked to a stop, but it was a moment before she slowly turned 
to face him. The anguish in her eyes made his throat ache. "I know 
you were, Mulder, but you'll never understand… She wasn't *your* 
child. And I realize we have to talk to the Chapmans. I'm just tired. 
Tired of seeing little girls treated like lab rats. And tired of being 
powerless to stop it. Samantha, Emily, Jessica, and now Claire... 
When is it going to stop, Mulder? When are we ever going to do 
more than pick up the pieces?"

He stood and walked over, enveloping her trembling body in his 
arms. "I'm tired too. But every time we pick up the pieces, we put a 
little more of the puzzle together. And one day we *will* stop them, 
Scully. I promise you that."

She buried her face against his chest, her reply muffled by the soft 
material of his shirt. "I want to believe, Mulder. I really do."


808 Larkspur Lane
6:23 PM


Sometimes she forgot how good he was at this.

>From the moment Sharon Chapman had opened the front door, 
Mulder had taken charge, shepherding the still grieving couple 
through a barrage of difficult and often painful questions with tact 
and sensitivity. Scully winced at the thought of her earlier outburst, 
fueled by stress and fatigue. Though Mulder's pursuit of the truth 
could be relentless, it was tempered by deep compassion and 
empathy. Time and time again she'd seen victims sense this and 
respond--Duane Barry, Lucy Householder, Marty Glenn...

The Chapmans, initially wary and reserved, had proved to be no 
exception.

"The doctors ran every test they could think of, but came up 
empty." Kevin Chapman, shook his head, hands clasped tightly 
between his knees. Though Mulder's age, he looked nearly a 
decade older. "How can you fix something if you don't understand 
what's broken?"

"No one could tell us *why* Jess was...the way she was. She looked 
just like she had when she ran out to play that night, there wasn't a 
mark on her, not a scrape or a bruise. When I picked her up out of 
those weeds, I thought, 'Thank God! My baby's home, she's come 
back to me.' And then I realized she wasn't responding..." Mrs. 
Chapman's eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears. "When 
the doctors compared her condition to brain death, I was sure there 
must be some mistake. I still believed she'd wake up any minute 
and prove them all fools."

Her husband reached over to clasp her trembling hand between his 
own. "They told us there was no hope. That Jessica's systems were 
shutting down. We could either prolong the inevitable--" the 
ragged words caught in his throat, which he cleared with an 
unsteady breath, "--or let her go. I wonder every day if we made 
the right choice." He directed the last at Scully, wounded eyes 
begging for any absolution she might grant.

As she was hunting for a response, Mulder spoke. "You made a 
judgement call based on your love for your daughter. There was no 
wrong decision."

And that, Scully reflected wryly, was why she put up with the 
man's crap. Beneath the occasionally insensitive bastard was a soul 
who felt others' pain as keenly as his own.

"We'd like your permission to look at Jessica's medical records and 
speak with her doctors," she said aloud, offering Mulder the barest 
curve of her lips. 

"You still haven't told us why you're here." Kevin, who owned and 
managed a small grocery store in town, had proved to be astute and 
perceptive--far from the "small town hick" stereotype. "Why have 
two agents come all the way from Washington DC to look into 
Jess's kidnapping--especially after all this time?"

Mulder's eyes flicked to Scully's before meeting Chapman's. 
"There's been an incident near Raleigh. A little girl has gone 
missing under circumstances similar to Jessica's.  Our hope is that 
something we learn from this case may help us to help her."

"Dear God." His wife searched their faces. "You think the same 
person who hurt Jessica kidnapped that child? Like a serial 
murderer?"

Scully gave her partner a warning look. "We really can't be certain 
of anything at this point."

Mulder picked up a framed photograph from an end table--Jessica 
and an older girl with arms slung around each other's necks, both 
dressed in hiking boots and backpacks. "Do you do much hiking?"

Mr. Chapman's wistful smile erased a few of the lines around his 
dark eyes. "Our favorite family activity. I started taking the girls 
out as soon as they could walk. By the time she was five Jessica 
could hike several miles without asking to be carried."

"So young? Weren't you afraid she'd wander off, become lost?"

"I kept a close eye on her, of course. Taught her all the basics 
about safety and woodcraft, what to do if you ever become 
separated from your group."  He huffed. "Compared to some of the 
city folks we see camping around here, both my girls were pros."

Mulder's eyes grazed Scully's as he replaced the photo. She heard 
his message loud and clear. So much for Sheriff Paxton's theory 
that Jessica had simply wandered off and lost her way. 

He leaned forward, forearms propped on his knees. "Mr. and Mrs. 
Chapman, would you mind if we spoke to Theresa?"

The couple stiffened, defenses raised. Some sort of nonverbal 
communication passed between them before Sharon spoke. "I don't 
really see what possible help she could be."

"According to the police report, she was the one who found 
Jessica." 

"That's right. But she didn't see anything." Mr. Chapman glanced 
at the staircase; lowered his voice. "Agent Mulder, Theresa and 
Jessica were very close. Finding her little sister that 
way...well...Theresa had nightmares for weeks after Jess's death." 
His expression hardened. "Being grilled by the police didn't help. I 
know you're just trying to do your job, but you can't imagine what 
it's like from this end, especially for a child..."

"My younger sister was abducted from our home when I was 
twelve. I was the only one there at the time, the only witness to the 
crime." Scully glanced sharply at her partner, surprised by his 
admission. Mulder's gaze never wavered from the Chapmans' 
faces. "Believe me, sir, I understand. I won't say or do anything to 
upset Theresa."

Another silent consultation and Mr. Chapman slowly nodded his 
head. "All right. As long as she agrees."

"Thank you."

Mr. Chapman paused by the staircase. "Did you ever find out what 
happened to your sister, Agent Mulder?"

A loaded question. Scully watched her partner fumble for a 
response.

"She was raised by another family, but died when she was 
fourteen."

"I'm sorry."

Mulder met Scully's eyes; smiled. "It was a long time ago."

An awkward silence descended as they waited for Mr. Chapman to 
return with Theresa. Mrs. Chapman stood and walked over to the 
bay window, gazing into the darkness.

"This other little girl--how long has she been missing?"

"Nearly three days," Scully answered.

For a moment the woman's only response was the slump of her 
shoulders. When she did speak, the words were nearly inaudible. 
"Whoever her mother is, I hope to God she doesn't have to endure 
what I have."

Footsteps on the stairs, and Mr. Chapman returned with the older 
girl from the photo. Theresa's face was longer and thinner than her 
sister's, her hair a darker shade of blonde. Still, the sibling 
relationship was obvious. She perched on the edge of a chair, 
eyeing Mulder and Scully with some trepidation.

Scully's warm smile and gentle tone were calculated to put her at 
ease. "Theresa, I'm Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Agent 
Mulder. We just want to ask you a few questions about the night 
you found your sister. Would that be all right?"

A long pause as Theresa's gaze moved from mother to father, 
evidently reassured by what she saw. "Okay."

"You were on your way home from a friend's house--is that 
correct?"

Theresa nodded. "Stacey lives right behind us."

"You were alone?" Scully couldn't help voicing some surprise.

"Of course not, " Mr. Chapman interrupted, plainly defensive. "For 
all we knew Jessica's kidnapper was still in the area. Stacey's father 
walked Theresa home."

Scully frowned. "I don't understand. The police report only lists 
Theresa as finding her sister."

Theresa ducked her head, flushing. "That's not when I found her. 
I...um...went back outside. Mom and Dad didn't know." She darted 
a sheepish glance at her parents. "I'd dropped a pack of gel pens 
somewhere along the way and I was pretty sure I knew where. So I 
took a flashlight and went out to find them."

"And found more than you bargained for." Scully's voice was 
gentle.

Theresa swallowed, eyes glistening. "Yeah."

"And you didn't see anyone else? In one of the adjacent yards or 
walking along the street?"

"No. Nobody."

Scully nodded. "Thank you, Theresa. We appreciate you talking to 
us."

"I have one more question." Mulder smiled encouragingly when 
Theresa appeared startled by his abrupt interjection. "It's an easy 
one. Theresa, when you were walking home with Mr. Cooper, did 
anything unusual or interesting happen?"

Her forehead crinkled as she tried to process his question. "No." 
She caught herself; smirking a bit. "Unless you call Jimmy Joyce 
still setting off fireworks a month after Fourth of July interesting."

Mulder leaned in closer, his face bland. "Fireworks?"

She nodded, disdain transforming her from fourteen to thirty-two. 
"I don't know what it was, but it made a real big flash. Lit up our 
whole backyard, and Stacey's, too. Mr. Cooper said he was gonna 
call the cops, but he always says that when Jimmy's causing 
trouble, and he never does."

Mulder's answering grin didn't touch his eyes. "Thank you, 
Theresa. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about this. You've 
been very helpful."

She shrugged, offering a shy smile. "You're welcome."

They all stood and began the niceties for Mulder and Scully to 
make their exit. Mulder had one hand on the doorknob and Scully 
was already standing on the front porch, when Theresa peered 
around her father.

"Agent Mulder, the little girl who's missing--does she have a sister 
to find her?"

Only Scully was able to see the hairline fracture in Mulder's 
professional facade. He blinked, then looked somberly at the little 
girl. "No, Theresa. But she has me."

Scully placed a firm hand on his arm, her voice pitched for his ears 
alone. "She has us both."


St. Mary's Hospital
Thursday
8:47 PM


Dr. Joshua Keating, neurologist, was not pleased.

He sat stiffly behind his large mahogany desk, drumming fingers 
and increasingly sour expression clearly communicating 
impatience. Hardly surprising. If the string of agitated nurses he'd 
left in his wake was any indication, the good doctor was not 
accustomed to being kept waiting.

Scully, by contrast, presented the picture of calm. Settled 
comfortably into the leather-cushioned chair, legs crossed, she 
worked her way through Jessica Chapman's medical file, scanning 
reports and examining test results with thorough and unhurried 
attention to detail. To the casual observer she appeared completely 
oblivious to Keating's barely restrained irritation. Mulder alone 
recognized that she was deliberately ignoring the doctor--by the 
obstinate line between her brows and the occasional tightening of 
her lips when Keating's fidgeting disrupted her concentration.

He leaned back into his own chair, answering the doctor's 
longsuffering glare with a studiously bland look to conceal his 
amusement.

*Tsk, tsk, Agent Scully. Who's not playing nice now?*

Keating propped his arms on his desk and cleared his throat. "Can 
we get on with this? I spent ten hours in surgery today and another 
two writing up my notes. The last thing I needed was to be dragged 
back here less than an hour after I arrived home."

Scully continued reading, leaving Mulder to smooth ruffled 
feathers. He pasted on his most diplomatic smile.

"As I said over the phone, doctor, we do apologize for the late 
hour. The time-sensitive nature of our investigation prohibited us 
from waiting until morning."

Keating's scowl deepened. "Jessica Chapman died six months ago, 
Agent Mulder. I fail to see the urgency."

All right, so he sucked at diplomacy. Why should Scully have all 
the fun?

"If I'm not mistaken, Dr. Keating, the true cause of Jessica 
Chapman's death was an overabundance of ignorance--on the part 
of police who failed to determine the specific details of her 
abduction, and a medical community that could neither adequately 
diagnose her condition nor devise a cure. Now there's another little 
girl missing under nearly identical circumstances whose parents 
would consider your input extremely helpful. Does that fit your 
definition of urgent?"

Keating turned purple. "Now look here, I did everything possible 
for that little girl..."

"Dr. Keating, I'm certain Agent Mulder didn't mean to imply you 
were less than thorough in your treatment of Jessica Chapman." 
Scully directed an upraised eyebrow and a quelling look at Mulder 
before turning her attention to Keating. "From the her chart I can 
see that you tried all the conventional approaches to handling what 
was, indeed, a very unconventional condition."

Keating huffed, shooting Mulder his own glare before favoring 
Scully with a thin smile. "As you can see, I consulted with 
colleagues in Ashville during every step of the treatment. 
Unfortunately our efforts proved too little, too late. In layman's 
terms, the child's brain simply went into overdrive until it burned 
itself out. All her life-sustaining systems began to fail within 
twenty-four hours after she was admitted. There was simply 
nothing we could do to save her."

"According to the chart, you tried heavy doses of anticonvulsants. 
There were no discernable effects?"

Keating ran a hand over his face, weariness replacing self-
righteousness. For the first time they saw not an arrogant surgeon, 
but a frustrated healer. "None. Considering we had previous data to 
show that Jessica responded to Zarontin, I'd hoped that in 
combination with Tegretol it might at least achieve some 
dampening of the electrical activity across the brain's surface."

Scully sat up a little straighter. "Jessica had been on Zarontin prior 
to this incident?"

"Not over the past twelve months, but yes, Jessica Chapman had a 
history of epilepsy. Nothing severe, just the occasional petit mal--
or what we now call absence seizure. Her pediatrician had 
maintained her on a low dose of Zarontin for several years."

Scully frowned. "We spoke with her parents earlier this evening. 
They never mentioned it."

"My understanding was that she'd outgrown the condition. As I 
said, she hadn't been medicated for it in over a year."

As Scully flipped back through the chart, armed with this new 
piece of information, Mulder cleared his throat. "Dr. Keating, do 
you have any explanation for the missing brain tissue?"

Keating's wry laugh surprised them both. "Unless someone's 
invented one of those gizmos the doctor on Star Trek had, no, I 
don't. We're not talking an area of dead tissue, Agent Mulder. It 
was extracted--surgically, I'd say, if I could only have found the 
damn incision." He shook his head. "Ironic, really."

Scully looked up. "How so?"

"The area that had been removed? It was the exact section of 
affected tissue that had caused the child's earlier bout with 
epilepsy. What are the odds of that?"

"I'm beginning to wonder." Mulder's muttered response was nearly 
inaudible, spoken more to himself than the others.

Scully's gaze was sharp, but she remained pensive and silent. 
Keating shook off his own bemusement, irritation once more 
creasing his brow.

"Is there anything else?"

Feeling Scully's silent question, Mulder gave a slight shake of his 
head. She turned back to Keating, gravely professional.

"That's all for now, Dr. Keating. If anything else comes up, we'll 
be in touch." They all stood, Scully still holding the chart. "If 
you've no objections, I'd like a few more minutes to go over 
Jessica's test results."

With freedom in sight, Keating could afford to be expansive. "Not 
at all, not at all. Feel free to use my office for as long as you like, 
and to make yourself a copy of that chart, if necessary. If you leave 
it on my desk, I'll make sure it's returned to records in the 
morning."

*In other words, you'll order some overworked nurse to take it down 
for you.*  Mulder extended his hand, smirking inwardly.

"Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Keating."

He waited until he was certain Keating was out of earshot before 
allowing himself a look into Scully's eyes. The turmoil he saw 
more than matched the churning in his gut. He opened his mouth to 
speak, but she beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say, Mulder."

"Coincidences, Scully. You know how I feel about them."

"I agree, it seems beyond mere chance that the same brain tissue 
responsible for Jessica's epilepsy should be the tissue missing after 
her abduction. But at this point I'm inclined to think it has little 
bearing on Claire's case."

It was there, on the edge of conscious thought, hovering just out of 
reach. Something important, something he'd heard or seen... A key 
that could possibly open the door to all the answers they sought. 
Mulder turned and braced his palms on Keating's desk, letting his 
eyes slip shut as he tried to concentrate, to follow the wisp of 
smoke to its source.

"Mulder." Scully's fingers, somehow freed from the chart, kneaded 
the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. "I want to connect the 
dots as badly as you, but we have to take care not to draw lines that 
don't exist."

Normally soothing, her hands and words were an irritation, a 
distraction. He ground his response through clenched teeth. "They 
*are* there, Scully. We just aren't seeing them."

"Everything we've learned here will serve Claire, should the need 
arise. Even knowing which treatments failed, that the Tegretol and 
Zarontin had no effect..."

Like a raised shade in a dark room, the memory returned in one 
glorious burst of light. Mulder spun on his heel so quickly he 
nearly knocked her off her feet.

"That's it! *That's* what I've been trying to recall. Scully, do you 
remember Kira's reaction when you showed Talbot the prescription 
bottles?"

Scully gazed at him blankly for a moment before her brow 
furrowed with concentration. "She was surprised...worried, too, I 
guess."

"Exactly. Because she recognized the Zarontin. She not only knew 
the name, she was familiar with its purpose."

Scully's frown deepened as she searched her own memory. "That's 
right. She called it an anticonvulsant."

"A pretty technical term--don't you think?"

Scully's eyes widened. "You think Claire is an epileptic? Grey's 
never mentioned it, and she's never shown any sign."

Mulder began to pace--no easy feat in the small office. "If she'd 
pretty much outgrown it, like Jessica, why would he?"

"It's not exactly an uncommon childhood ailment. The symptoms 
are so mild they can easily be mistaken for a limited ability to 
concentrate."

Mulder abruptly stopped moving. "What if this is our answer, 
Scully? What if that little piece of seemingly damaged brain tissue 
is more than meets the eye? What if it's the reason the kids were 
abducted?"

Scully gaped at him for a moment before shaking her head. 
"You're getting ahead of yourself. We don't even know if Claire 
and the other kids were epileptics."

"Then we need to find out. As soon as possible."

His cell phone punctuated his words with a sharp trill. He 
absentmindedly punched the button, his mind traveling 60 miles an 
hour in the opposite direction.

"Mulder."

"We've got news."

The lack of telephone foreplay sent Mulder's stomach on a long, 
slow roll. "What is it, Frohike?"

"Those other kids that went missing the same time as your 
brother's niece? Four of them are back."

"Details."

"Sketchy so far--we're working on it. From what we're seeing, 
they're being returned in the same order they were taken. We've 
been monitoring all the hot spots, figuring the rest will keep 
showing up in the same sequence."

"Any word on their conditions?"

"In every case so far, EMTs were called and the kids taken to the 
hospital. Langly was able to hack into admittance records for the 
first two." A slight hesitation. "They list the kids as being 
comatose on arrival."

Mulder gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a steadying breath 
before answering. "I need everything you can dig up, Hickey. 
Police reports, witness testimony...  If you get me a list of the 
hospitals, Scully can call and use her badge number to access 
patient records." Dryly. "Legitimately."

"Got it covered. I'll have Langly email ASAP."

"Keep in touch."

"One more thing you should know. The kids are turning up close to 
wherever they were when they disappeared. One of 'em was even 
back in her own bed. The mother was seriously freaked when she 
walked into the room and found her daughter sleeping as if nothing 
had happened." He cleared his throat. "Uh, until she tried to wake 
her up, that is. Maybe you'd better make sure your brother has 
someone watching the house."

"I'm on it. Thanks."

Scully laid a hand on his arm as he disconnected and then began 
rapidly punching in Grey's number. "Some of the children have 
been found?"

"Four. All comatose." Mulder grimaced, hating the sharpness of 
his reply. "The guys think they're being returned in the same order 
they were taken."

"Detective McKenzie."

"Grey, it's me."

"Fox? You in Boone?"

"Yeah. We're done here, we should be on the road shortly." He 
watched Scully tense, then slump in resignation.

"Tonight? I thought you were going to get a room. That's a helluva  
long trip to make this late."

"We'll mainline some caffeine. Listen, Grey, I need you to do 
something for me."

"Anything, Fox. You just gotta ask."

It warmed a spot inside of him that he'd feared would never thaw. 
His lips curved and a little of the tightness eased in the aching 
muscles along his spine.

"I need you to have someone keep an eye on Kira's place. Twenty-
four hour surveillance."

A pregnant silence as he sensed Grey examining his request, 
turning it over and over like a child with a new toy. "What do you 
know that I don't know?"

"Do you remember me telling you that some other kids went 
missing the same time Claire did? Well, a few of them have been 
returned."

"What do you mean? Did they catch who did it?"

There were so many answers to that question, none of them 
conducive to healing the rift between them. Mulder sighed. "No. 
All I'm saying is that I think there's a good possibility Claire could 
turn up, and if she does it will be close to home. Just trust me in 
this, will you? It's not going to cost you anything."

Another long pause, and he knew Grey was biting back his own 
string of retorts. Finally, his brother let out his own gusty sigh. "All 
right. I'll see who I can spare."

The flood of relief left him exhausted and nearly giddy. "Thank 
you."

Grey's voice dropped until it was little more than a murmur. "You 
think we're going to find her soon, don't you? That's why you're 
driving home tonight."

The phone felt slippery in Mulder's grip. "Yeah. I do."

"I hope to hell you're right." His wistful tone turned businesslike. 
"Be careful. Some of those roads can be tricky in the dark."

"We will." He was about to hang up; caught himself. "Grey?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to sound strange, but... Is Claire epileptic?"

A sharp intake of breath. "What in the... How did you know that? 
Did Kira mention it?"

Goosebumps broke out, tingling along his arms and legs. "No. Are 
you saying she is?"

"*Was* is more like it. It was always pretty mild, and she hasn't had a 
seizure in over a year. Kira doesn't give her medicine for it 
anymore." His voice sharpened. "Why, Fox? What does it have to 
do with anything?"

"Not over the phone. I'll explain when we see you."

A trace of Grey's dry wit returned. "I'll be looking forward to it 
with bated breath."

"See you in a few hours." He disconnected, still reeling from the 
impact of Grey's confirmation.

"Claire has epilepsy?" Scully studied his face as he pocketed the 
phone.

"Had. Sounds just like Jessica; their symptoms even disappeared 
about the same time. It's the link, Scully. I know it."

"We'll get a clearer picture when we can compare the other kids' 
medical records." She ran her hand down his arm, taking his hand. 
"You've done all you can for now."

Mulder rubbed at eyes burning with emotion and fatigue. "Maybe 
so. I just wish I didn't get the feeling this has been the easy part, 
Scully. That the really hard part's yet to come."

Her only response was a tightening of the fingers tangled with his. 
Somehow, though, it was more than enough.

 
Interstate 
1:58 AM


Scully sipped her coffee, blinking gritty eyes. She eased the 
styrofoam cup into the holder, careful not to disturb the man 
sprawled bonelessly against her shoulder. She'd taken possession 
of his car keys at the last rest stop, firmly ignoring protests that he 
was perfectly able to drive. Within ten minutes, darkness and the 
rhythmic hum of tires on pavement had lulled him to sleep. An all-
to-brief respite before the ordeal that lay ahead.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and rolled her head, 
steeling herself against her own weariness. Mulder's soft, even 
breathing and warm weight against her side was a seductive 
invitation to join him in slumber. Not an option, if they were going 
to make it back to Raleigh in one piece. Thank God they were 
within an hour of their destination.

The high-pitched warble of his cell phone, abnormally loud in the 
silence, startled her. Her hands jerked inadvertently to the right, 
briefly swerving the car onto the shoulder of the road with a spray 
of gravel before she caught herself. Mulder jerked upright as if the 
tone carried an electrical charge, fumbling in his pockets until he 
produced the offending device. His voice was thick and heavy with 
sleep.

"Mulder."

She read the caller's message in his rigid posture and the tight, 
carefully controlled tone of his voice. Depressing the gas pedal, 
she increased the car's speed to well past the posted limit. Mulder's 
announcement, when it came, brought no surprise. Only bitter 
resignation.

"Claire's back. She's been taken to Raleigh Community Hospital."

She gave a short nod, keeping her gaze focused on the road as she 
sent up a silent prayer.

*Dear God, help Claire. Help us all.*


Raleigh Community Hospital
Friday
3:16 AM


She was so small. 

Pale as the sheet beneath her cheek, tousled curls spread across the 
pillow, the hospital bed and machinery dwarfed her already slight 
frame until she appeared impossibly frail and tiny.

Mulder chewed on his lip, throat tightening as he watched Kira 
press Claire's limp hand to her cheek, weeping. Peripherally, he 
was aware of Scully's hushed consultation with the doctor, Grey's 
agitated pacing, and Kristen's gentle attempts to soothe. But he 
couldn't seem to tear his gaze from the poignant tableau on the 
other side of the glass.

Scully's hand at the small of his back startled him from 
contemplation. He turned to face her, abruptly struck by her 
shadowed eyes and the lines of weariness around her mouth. He 
inwardly berated himself for acquiescing to her demand that she 
drive the final leg of the trip back to Raleigh. They were both 
skating on the edges of exhaustion, but with her medical expertise, 
Scully held the crucial role in what lay ahead. 

He smoothed a disheveled lock of hair behind her ear. "Let me 
guess--she's a mirror image of Jessica Chapman."

"Tests are still being run, but, yes, her condition is remarkably 
similar to that of the Chapman girl. Right down to the mysteriously 
excised brain tissue. And get this, Mulder. The missing tissue is 
from the cerebral cortex, near the parietal lobe."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Like Jessica."

"The location is practically identical." Scully gazed over his 
shoulder, then away, swallowing. "Dr. Hsu has graciously offered 
me the use of a conference room and fax machine. I need to review 
data on the other children as soon as possible. Perhaps by 
determining which treatments have failed--"

"What other children?"

Scully looked up sharply, surprised to see Grey standing just 
behind Mulder, Kristen at his side. His piercing gaze was that of a 
drowning man.

"I need you two to be straight with me. I can see you know 
something about what's wrong with Claire."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a long look before Mulder spoke. 
"Are you certain you want to hear this, Grey? Because you haven't 
up till now."

Grey huffed, shrugging off Kristen's hand and pacing several steps 
down the hallway before returning. He ran his fingers through hair 
that appeared to have received the same treatment many times, and 
laughed bitterly. "Did I mention that she was found inside a locked 
house? Lying in her bed, not a single broken seal on the doors and 
windows, the damn crime scene tape intact? 'Course, you already 
know the best part. The Houdini who performed that little magic 
trick also managed to remove part of her brain without leaving a 
single mark on her."

His voice cracked and he ducked his head, throat working 
convulsively. Kristen made an abortive motion to touch him before 
dropping both hands to her sides. When he resumed speaking, 
Grey's voice was very soft.

"I know how this sounds--even I can recognize the irony. I've been 
a bastard ever since you got here, when all you've tried to do is 
help. I've pissed on your theories, Fox, and even now...even now I 
can't completely accept what you believe. He raised his head and 
stared into his brother's eyes, tone hardening. "But I'll do anything
--*anything*--to save that little girl."

Mulder met his gaze without flinching. "So will I, Grey. That's 
why I'm still here."

"Then tell me. Tell me everything."

With another quick glance at Mulder, Scully launched into a 
detailed synopsis of their investigation thus far. Grey's face 
remained impassive until she described Jessica Chapman's return 
and its outcome.

"Dana, are you trying to tell me there's nothing to be done for 
Claire? That her brain will eventually just...self-destruct? Because 
I can't accept that. I won't."

Scully opened her mouth to respond, but Kristen beat her to it. 
"Slow down, Grey. You know they would never give up without a 
fight. Dana's saying they've found a pattern. And that studying the 
pattern, and what happened to those other children, might be the 
key to saving Claire." She looked from Scully to Mulder. "Am I 
right?"

Mulder's eyes filled with gratitude as he tapped his nose with his 
index finger.

Grey's expression softened as he slipped an arm around Kristen's 
shoulders, but the fingers of his other hand still drummed 
nervously against his leg.

"If what you say is true, if Claire's condition is identical to that 
other little girl's, then we don't have time to waste. Mark is with 
forensics at the house. My parents are downstairs getting coffee 
and something to eat for Kira. Help me out here, Dana. There must 
be *something* I can do."

Mulder's prior concern for Scully's exhaustion was reinforced 
when she fumbled for a response. He knew for a fact she'd only 
dozed in the car, and neither of them had consumed more than 
coffee and a few cookies since lunch the day before. 

"There is." He ignored Scully's frown, choosing to focus on his 
brother instead. "Scully has to be the point person for reviewing 
the hospital records of the other children. But she's not going to 
make it through even one chart unless she has a decent meal that 
consists of something more than sugar and caffeine." He cocked a 
challenging eyebrow at her when she began to demur. "Shut up, 
Scully. I've listened to this lecture so often I know it by heart--this 
time it's my turn. Kristen can help you get set up in the conference 
room and Grey and I will get us all something to eat." He 
grimaced. "It's been a long night, and I'm afraid it will be an even 
longer day before it's over."

Scully folded her arms but her gaze warmed him. "It's good to 
know you've been listening, Mulder. I must admit, I've had my 
doubts."

"That's the best you can come up with for me to do?" Grey flashed 
Scully an apologetic grin. "Don't take that the wrong way, darlin', 
you know I'm more than willing to help you. I was just hoping for 
something a little more, I don't know..."

"Manly?" Kristen filled in sweetly.

Grey gave her a wounded look--one Mulder had a sneaking 
suspicion he himself had used many times. 

"C'mon." He tipped his head toward the elevator and started 
walking down the hallway. "If it helps, I'll let you carry 
everything."

"Very funny." Grey took a few steps; hesitated. "Aren't you going 
to ask Dana what she wants?"

Mulder didn't bother turning around. "A cup of yogurt, the closest 
thing that passes for a bran muffin, and coffee--one cream."

Grey's head swiveled back to consult Scully, who imitated 
Mulder's earlier gesture with a tap to the nose. He turned to 
Kristen, who was observing the entire exchange with fascination. 
She shrugged with a sidewise grin at Scully.

"Make it two, I guess."

By the time Grey caught up, Mulder had pressed the button and 
was leaning against the wall, waiting. A strained silence descended 
until the elevator doors rumbled open, discharging Grey's parents 
and two nurses. Mulder accepted a distracted kiss from Grey's 
mom and a handshake from his dad, allowing his brother to field 
their anxious questions about Claire's condition. After a flurry of 
conversation, they headed for the ICU, and Mulder and Grey 
boarded the elevator.

Mulder folded his arms and propped himself against the back wall, 
watching from beneath his lashes as Grey studied the floor 
indicator. His brother's right foot tapped a staccato beat, his fingers 
first opening and then closing into fists.

"You have to stop blaming yourself."

Grey peered over his shoulder with a scowl. "Huh?"

"Nothing you could have done would have helped find Claire any 
sooner, or changed her condition. You haven't failed her, Grey. Or 
the rest of your family, for that matter."

His brother's eyes were wounded, but he lashed out in anger. 
"What the hell would you know about it?"

Mulder tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Me? I 
wrote the book."

A soft chime and the doors slid open. He walked past Grey, who 
seemed stunned into immobility.  Thanks to the graveyard shift, 
the cafeteria was quiet, populated with only a handful of doctors 
and nurses. Plucking an obnoxiously orange plastic tray from the 
stack, Mulder slid it along the track, collecting vanilla yogurt, a 
generic, whole-grain muffin, and an enormous cheese Danish 
oozing enough fat and cholesterol to put Scully in lecture mode.

"Living on the edge, huh?"

Startled, he looked up to find Grey peering over his shoulder at the 
pastry in question. Though a part of Mulder appreciated his 
brother's attempt to reproduce their usual banter, his harsh words in 
the elevator still stung. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grey ignored the rebuff. "So much for the lecture on good 
nutrition. Dana's gonna kick your butt when she sees that invitation 
to a heart attack on your plate."

Mulder sourly jerked a thumb at Grey's tray, where a bagel rested 
beside Kristin's muffin, amused in spite of himself. "Coward."

"Let's just say I know what's good for me."

Mulder sighed and placed the Danish back on the shelf. "All right, 
hand me one of those. But I'm having cream cheese, damn it."

Grey made the switch, expression smug. "Atta boy." 

As Mulder started to fill two large styrofoam cups with coffee, 
Grey cleared his throat. "Fox...about what I said a minute ago. I 
didn't mean it."

Mulder carefully snapped the first lid into place; reached for a 
second. "Forget it."

"No, I..." Grey's hand covered the cup, arresting his movement. "If 
anyone understands, it's you."

The corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Scully says we Mulders 
have a corner on the market for guilt. I've begun to see her point."

Grey dropped his hand and fiddled with his own cups. "Say what 
you will, but in this case a great deal of it is deserved. I never 
should have insisted on running this investigation. I've done 
nothing but spin my wheels." He raised his eyes to Mulder's. "And 
alienate the people closest to me."

Mulder stared at him for a moment, oddly numb despite the words. 
*Too little, too late.* The thought pierced him with a brief pang of 
regret but he brushed it aside. *Things can never be the way they 
were, but at least we can salvage something.* 

"You've done what you thought was right, and you've never had 
anything but Claire's best interests at heart. Let it go, Grey. I have." 

Sensing his brother's dissatisfaction with the response, Mulder put 
an end to the conversation. He transferred Grey's food onto his 
own tray and carried it over to the cashier, letting Uncle Sam pick 
up the tab. They walked back toward the elevator without speaking 
until Grey stopped, eyes narrowed.

"How did you know about Claire's epilepsy, Fox? You promised 
you'd explain."

"Now? I kind of have my hands full." Mulder indicated the tray he 
carried.

Grey silently reached over and took it from him, eyebrows raised. 
"Better?"

"Loads." Mulder tried to gather his thoughts, grateful when the 
elevator arrived empty. "What do you want to hear--what I think, 
or what I know?"

Grey eyed him. "How 'bout starting out with what you know? 
Maybe we can work up to the rest."

"Fine. Jessica Chapman and Claire both suffered from a mild form 
of epilepsy marked by occasional petit mal seizures. The 
symptoms were extremely innocuous, just  'phasing out' for short 
periods of time, a loss of mental acuity. Both girls had outgrown 
the condition about a year before they were abducted."

"Go on."

"An examination of the girls' MRIs shows that in both cases the 
excised brain tissue was from the area that had caused the 
epilepsy."

Grey leaned back against the wall, obviously stunned. "You're sure 
about that?"

"Yes."

The elevator stopped to admit a doctor and an elderly couple. Grey 
and Mulder rode the rest of the way to their floor in silence, though 
Mulder could feel sparks of tension coming off his brother like 
static electricity. As they debarked, he braced himself for the next 
round. Grey didn't disappoint.

"I don't know how this nightmare could get any crazier. Tell me 
the rest. Tell me what you're thinking."

Mulder caught a glimpse of a deserted waiting room from the 
corner of his eye. Reclaiming the food tray, he strode over and set 
it down atop a magazine-littered table, then waved Grey toward a 
chair.

"Sit down."

Grey eased himself onto the hard plastic, making a face. "Great. 
It's that bad, huh?"

Mulder paused in the act of reaching for a chair. "You want to hear 
this or not? Make up your mind, Grey, because I'm tired of taking 
your crap."

Grey blinked, disconcerted. "Sorry."

Mulder pulled over the chair, straddling it with his arms resting 
across the back. Took a deep breath. "I think the medical reports 
on those other kids are going to show that they were epileptic, too, 
just like Jessica and Claire, and that they were returned in the same 
condition. I think that little piece of brain tissue is the common 
denominator, the key to why these kids were taken. I think that 
where we see a group of damaged cells, whoever--*what*ever--took 
those kids sees something entirely different, something of great 
significance." He paused, momentarily forgetting his brother as his 
thoughts turned inward and he followed his own line of reasoning. 
"Something that has them fascinated…or maybe just threatened."

When Grey didn't reply, Mulder pulled himself back from 
contemplation. His brother was staring at him, face pale. Mulder 
sighed, scrubbing at tired eyes with the heels of his hands.

"You asked for it." Weariness turned his voice to a raspy mutter. 
"There it is."

Grey leaned forward, elbows propped on knees. "You think the 
children posed some kind of threat to whoever did this?"

Mulder met his gaze. "I think the brain tissue is important to them. 
Important enough to outweigh the risk involved in getting it."

Grey buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. A touch of 
hysteria colored his soft drawl. "Sweet Jesus, this can't be 
happening. Aliens, spaceships, cosmic brain surgery... It's like 
some kind of bad joke." He looked up at Mulder with shell-
shocked eyes. "But you wanna know the funniest part of all, Fox? 
You're gonna love this... 

"I'm starting to believe you."


Raleigh Community Hospital
Friday
10:04 AM


At first he didn't realize she was asleep.

He'd breezed into the room carrying a fresh stack of faxes in one 
hand and slurping coffee from a cup in the other. Mr. and Mrs. 
McKenzie had ducked out for some fresh air and breakfast, leaving 
Grey and Kristen to sit with Kira until their return. Without their 
presence, the conference room had drifted deeper and deeper into 
silence, the rustle of papers and scratch of pens magnified by the 
stillness. 

Scully was seated at the table, chin cradled in her palm and 
medical records spread out before her like a paper feast. Mulder, 
back from a quick circuit that had included the fax machine, fresh 
coffee, and a check on Claire's condition, rounded the table and 
plopped into a chair, adding the new medical records to a pile near 
her right elbow.

"I think that's about it. Last fax came in..." He caught himself when 
he glimpsed her face. Leaning closer, he used one finger to smooth 
back the spill of hair obscuring it. A faint line between her closed 
eyes gave the impression Scully was puzzling over files even in 
her sleep.

Mulder tucked the hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with the 
pad of his thumb. "Scully."

Despite his care she awoke with a start, pen skittering across the 
table as she reached for her watch. "What time is it?"

He couldn't help smiling, despite his concern. "A little after ten. 
You just drifted off for a few minutes."

She blinked, then stretched, rolling her head from side to side with 
a little groan. "My eyes are beginning to cross. When we finish this 
case I never want to see another MRI again." She perused his 
hands, expression hopeful. "Coffee?"

Mulder handed her the cup with a flourish. "I got one extra large 
cup. Figured we could share."

She somehow managed to communicate disapproval while 
practically chugging the contents. "Mulder, do you have any idea 
how many germs there are in the human mouth?"

"Baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me, but now isn't the right 
time."

She rolled her eyes but didn't surrender the cup. 

Mulder slithered down in the chair until he could rest his head on 
the back, long legs stretched out beneath the table and butt 
precariously hanging off the seat. He stared up at the ceiling. "Sum 
it up for me, Scully. What have we got so far?"

She picked up her glasses and slipped them on, peering at her 
notes. "We've received medical records for seven of the ten 
children abducted six months ago. Nine of the fourteen abducted 
three days ago have been found. We have preliminary records for 
six of them."

"And what are the records telling us, Doctor Scully?"

"You should know--you've been reading over my shoulder the 
whole time."

"Humor me."

She sucked in a deep breath; let it out slowly. "All the children 
suffered from a mild form of epilepsy which they appeared to have 
outgrown within a year prior to being abducted. In every case, the 
damaged cells that caused the epilepsy were located on the cerebral 
cortex near the parietal lobe. And in every case, that same section 
of tissue was missing when the children were returned--" she shut 
the folder in front of her--"comatose."

"No incisions," Mulder said quietly. "No scars."

"No damage of any kind. Mulder, the removal of that tissue, as 
horrifying as it may seem, could not be responsible for the massive 
amount of electroconductivity we're seeing in the childrens' brains. 
It doesn't make sense."

Mulder sat up, running his hand over his stubbled jaw. "I have an 
idea about that."

A twinkle lit Scully's tired eyes. "I'll bet you do."

He made a face but continued. "Something was used to extract the 
brain tissue from these kids, Scully. An instrument far beyond the 
scope of our understanding--beyond the understanding of any 
physician on this planet."

"You think the instrument itself caused their condition?"

"I think an instrument designed with alien technology is bound to 
have some nasty side effects on a human brain."

 Scully nodded, expression pensive. "So even though it excises the 
tissue with a minimum of physical trauma, it severely disrupts the 
electroconductivity across the cerebral cortex."

"Exactly."

"Which still leaves the million dollar question unanswered."

"Why they want the tissue in the first place."

"Exactly."

Mulder stood and began pacing. "I've been thinking about that, too. 
Why would a seemingly harmless collection of cells be of interest 
to beings so technologically superior to us? Is it valuable to them? 
A threat?"

Scully frowned. "Wait a minute, Mulder. When did these kids stop 
being alien guinea pigs and start being a threat?"

"The stakes have changed, Scully. These children aren't random 
test subjects destined for a life as multiple abductees. They're 
targeted specifically for that one small area of their brain that sets 
them apart from the rest of us. A clump of cells that is then 
brutally, efficiently ripped from them without regard to the 
consequences."

"What you're saying might make an odd kind of sense but for the 
fact that those cells are useless, Mulder. Worse than useless. 
They're damaged tissue that caused the children's brains to 
malfunction--until they eventually adapted."

Mulder jerked to a stop, staring at her intently. "Adapted?"

"So to speak. As a psychologist, I know you're aware that we 
actually utilize a very small percentage of our total brain cells. In 
mild cases such as these children had, the brain sometimes 
manages to adapt, bypassing the damaged area. Almost as if it 
rewires itself."

"Or evolves." Mulder muttered the words to himself.

"What?"

"Scully, suppose that tissue isn't just a collection of bad cells. What 
if it's some kind of...switch, that hasn't been flipped yet."

"You've lost me."

"You said the kids didn't experience the muscle spasms and loss of 
bodily control characteristic of a full blown seizure, correct? That 
they'd simply phase out for a short time, lose touch with their 
surroundings."

"Put simply, yes."

Mulder sucked in his bottom lip, hand drifting up to touch the back 
of his head. "Almost like they're tuned into something else. Sounds 
familiar, doesn't it?"

Scully sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you suggesting that the 
children's seizures were actually episodes similar to what you 
experienced after exposure to the artifact?" She shook her head. 
"Mulder that's an awfully big leap, even for you."

"Scully, *you're* the one who made the connection." Seeing her 
perplexed expression, he continued. "You were the one to point out 
that the so-called 'brain storm' we've seen in the returned children 
is similar in nature to the brain activity I experienced at that time."

"True, but that hardly--"

"Bear with me for a minute. What if this thing we're seeing, this 
small area of the brain, is a kind of…precursor to what we saw in 
Gibson Praise?"

"The ability to read minds?"

"And to communicate with the aliens themselves." 

Scully shook her head. "But this is very different from Gibson, 
Mulder. We're talking about one small section of the brain; all of 
Gibson's cells were affected."

"Maybe this is just the beginning, one of the first baby steps on the 
evolutionary scale..." Mulder returned to his chair in three quick 
strides, a light growing inside him. "We know there are different 
alien factions, Scully, and that one of them was against anything 
that might result in a pollution of their race. Removing the brain 
tissue now could interrupt the evolutionary process, halting the 
development of more human beings with Gibson's abilities."

Scully stared at him for a long moment before letting her head drop 
onto the seatback with a soft groan. "I need a shower and about 48 
hours of sleep. Mulder, only you could make a connection between 
epilepsy and... Oh my God." Her head popped up and for a 
moment Mulder got the distinct impression she was looking not at 
him, but through him.

"What is it?"

She licked her lips. "Max Fenig. He assumed he was an epileptic 
because of something done to him during one of his abductions. 
But Mulder...what if that was WHY he was abducted?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "That's an awfully big 
leap, Agent Scully."

"Why should you have all the fun?" She sighed, shoulders curling 
inward. "This is all well and good, Mulder, but it doesn't solve the 
problem at hand."

"Curing Claire."

Scully nodded, gesturing to the piles of faxes. "I've been through 
these records with a fine-toothed comb. A variety of treatments 
have been employed to restore normal brain function--some 
creative, some practically incompetent. Nothing has had the 
slightest effect on the child's condition." She pulled off her glasses 
and rubbed her eyes. "Mulder, time's running out. And I haven't the 
faintest idea how to help that little girl."

"Guess that answers my question."

They both turned, startled. Grey stood in the doorway, his 
expression unreadable. He walked slowly over to sit on the edge of 
the heavy oak table. Up close, Mulder could see how hard his 
brother was working to maintain control.

"Claire is having trouble breathing. They just put her on a 
ventilator. Mom and Dad are on their way back."

Mulder glanced over his brother's shoulder. "Kristen?"

"She's staying with Kira until they get here. I wanted to come and 
get Dana, thought maybe she could talk to the doctor."

Mulder looked over at Scully; saw the shine of tears before her 
eyes slipped shut.

"I'm so sorry, Grey." The tears colored her voice, as well. "I've 
looked through every test result, every piece of documentation, and 
I just can't see..."

Mulder reached for her, but Grey's hand was there first, tucking her 
tangled hair behind her ear with great tenderness. "You don't have 
to tell me, darlin'. I have eyes." He dropped his hand and it curled 
to a fist in his lap. "Maybe I've been a stubborn fool on this case, 
but I'd have to be blind not to see how hard you and Fox have tried 
to help Claire." He bit his lip and looked away. "Even I can't 
expect you to work miracles."

"We haven't given up. As long as Claire is still alive, there's still 
hope." Mulder said the words with more assurance than he felt, 
wishing he could will them into being. 

Grey's smile touched only his mouth. "I wouldn't expect anything 
less from you, little brother. But I can't help facing facts. Kira's 
facing them, too. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at Claire." 
He ran a hand down his face, eyelashes fluttering. "Maybe it's best 
she be prepared."

Mulder shoved back his chair and lurched to his feet, heart 
thudding. "I refuse to accept that. There has to be something more 
we can do, something right in front of us, maybe, that we're just 
not seeing." He put a hand on Scully's shoulder, squeezing gently. 
"The answers are there. We just have to know where to look for 
them."

She gazed up at him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips, then 
turned to Grey. "I'll be glad to talk to Dr. Hsu. Then I think we'd 
better make some calls and see how the other children are doing. 
There's always the chance one of their doctors has come up with 
something new."

Grey stood, offering her a hand up as she gingerly stretched 
muscles cramped from inactivity. "Thank you. At the very least 
you can translate the medical speak for the rest of us. Dr. Hsu may 
be a gifted neurologist, but..."

"His bedside manner could use some work," Scully finished dryly. 
"I'm all too familiar with the type."

They reached the doorway, nearly colliding with Kristen as she 
rounded the corner from the hallway, clearly agitated. 

"Easy, sweetheart." Grey steadied her, peering more closely at her 
face. "Is Claire all right? Are my parents here?"

"Claire's okay, but I think you'd better come quickly."

"What's wrong?"

"You know the officer you stationed outside the ICU, just in case?" 
When Grey nodded, Kristen continued. "He's holding some guy 
who's demanding to see Claire. Say's he's her father."