TITLE: Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts
(Blood Ties Series)
AUTHOR: Dawn
EMAIL: sunrise@avenew.com
ARCHIVE: MTA, Xemplary, Gossamer - others are fine, just let me know
SPOILERS: Major for Paper Hearts and Beyond the Sea, minor through
season 6
RATING: R -- for disturbing images and violence
CLASSIFICATION: XA, AU
KEYWORDS: MSR
SUMMARY: A serial killer mimicking the Paper Hearts murders pushes
Mulder to the edge of a breakdown. When Skinner removes him from the
case, Grey and Scully talk him into a trip to North Carolina to get his
mind off the investigation. The killer, however, has other ideas?
DISCLAIMER: I know Scully, Mulder, and Skinner aren't mine. They belong
to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. However, if he is not going to
play with them for SIX MONTHS, I'm forced to take matters into my own
hands! Grey McKenzie is my own creation.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part four in my Blood Ties universe. You don't
need to have read the others to enjoy this, but you will be missing some
background information (like who the heck is Grey McKenzie?). You can
find parts one through three at Xemplary and MTA. And as always, undying
gratitude to my beta readers, Laurie and Donna. You guys truly
contribute to each story in so many ways.
FEEDBACK: Remember that slogan, "A day without orange juice is like a
day without sunshine? You get the idea.





Blood Ties IV (1 of 16)
By Dawn


Office of A.D. Skinner
Monday
3:43 p.m.


"Sir, you can't *do* this!"

Walter Skinner fixed his gaze on the file lying on the blotter in front
of him, teeth clenched and the small muscle along his jawline twitching.
The undisguised anger in his agent's voice crossed the line from protest
to insubordination, something Skinner's military background found
intolerable.

"Agent Mulder, you are overstepping your bounds," he growled. "I not
only can, I have. You are off this case until further notice."

"This is bullshit!" Mulder shot back defiantly.

Skinner slowly looked up from the autopsy report, feeling his fury grow
like a living thing. He barely heard Scully's hiss of reprimand, so
intent was he on pinning Mulder with eyes that glittered dangerously.

"What?"

"I said it's bullshit! This is *my* case, it has been from the
beginning. They aren't going to get anywhere without me and you know
it!"

As Mulder continued his tirade Skinner saw a flicker of movement and
followed it to its source. Scully was surreptitiously squeezing Mulder's
hand, and for the first time he turned his attention to her. She was
unaware of his regard, completely focused on her partner. Skinner took
in the small lines of worry, the teeth gnawing her bottom lip, before
returning his gaze to the ranting Mulder. This time he looked deeper,
attempting to see with Scully's eyes. The revelation quenched his anger
like a bucket of icy water and reminded him why he'd made the decision
which now had the man so outraged.

Mulder's skin was chalky, deepening to dark, bruised shadows beneath his
bloodshot hazel eyes. The expensive charcoal suit that he'd often seen
the secretarial pool admiring was rumpled and hung off a frame gaunt
with sudden weight loss. And the voice, though driven by rage on the
surface, held a desperate note akin to unshed tears. Skinner abruptly
understood Scully's deep worry and the reason she'd covertly approached
him for help. Mulder was much more than exhausted, he was dancing on the
razor's edge of a complete breakdown.

"Mulder."

His quiet, firm utterance of the name stemmed the flow of bitter words
in a way that a rebuke never would. Skinner stood and moved around to
lean against the front of his desk, folding his arms across his chest.
Mulder glared at him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed tightly together.
Skinner sighed and chose his next words carefully, feeling as if he were
navigating a minefield.

"Mulder, you need to step back. You've lost sight of what's important
here, of what your priorities should be."

"My *priority* is to find the butcher who is murdering little girls!
Anything else is secondary!" Mulder snarled.

Skinner regarded him calmly, compassionately. "That's exactly what I
mean." When Mulder started to speak he held up a hand. "You're losing
yourself to this maniac, Mulder. When was the last time you ate? Or
slept for more than an hour or two? You were here all weekend, weren't
you?"

Mulder's long fingers clenched the armrests of his chair and he averted
his eyes from Skinner's. Skinner shook his head, leaning forward just a
bit to push the envelope and invade Mulder's space.

"You don't have to answer, Mulder. I can see for myself. You look like
shit."

The words were spoken gently, without condemnation, but something
snapped in Mulder and he thrust his own face forward, refusing to back
down.

"That's beside the point. For some unknown reason, this sick bastard is
trying to impress me. I'm the only one who has a prayer of finding him,
and I need to do my job. Nothing else matters."

The implication of the statement tore at Skinner's heart, the more so
because he knew how completely Mulder believed it.

"It does to me," he said with quiet resolve. "*You* matter. This is not
the damn ISU, Mulder, and I refuse to be cast in the role of Bill
Patterson. You will *not* show your face in this building for one week.
You will *not* call. You will *not* take the file home with you. If I
find out you've violated any of my directives I will suspend you. At the
end of the week I will assess your condition and determine whether you
will be allowed to resume your spot on the team. Do I make myself
clear?"

Mulder's eyes were nearly black and for a moment Skinner was certain the
man would take a swing at him. Wouldn't be the first time he thought
ruefully, squelching the urge to rub his jaw.

"Yes. *Sir*." Contempt dripped from Mulder's reply. "Are we finished?"

Feeling suddenly weary, Skinner nodded. Mulder flung himself to his feet
and stalked from the office, not even looking back to see if Scully
would follow. Skinner removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his
nose, wondering if Kim had any Advil. Scully's voice, when it came, was
softly apologetic.

"Don't take it personally, sir. He's not himself right now."

Skinner moved over to sink into the chair that Mulder had vacated.
"Scully, you have a gift for understatement," he said wryly. When she
tried to return his smile and failed, he sobered. "How long has he been
like this? When you asked me to remove him from the case, I must admit I
was afraid you were overreacting. But seeing him now..." He let the
words trail off, feeling slightly ashamed. In truth, he'd feared that
the change in Mulder and Scully's personal relationship had affected her
objectivity.

"It's been steadily building since he received the first heart. But
since the shift in victims..." She swallowed and blinked rapidly. "It's
tearing him up inside. He can't let go if it, even to eat or sleep. I'd
heard the stories about how he'd get during a profiling case, but living
it is different. I'm afraid for him, sir."

Skinner sighed, vividly recalling when his agent had burst into his
office unannounced eight weeks earlier. Mulder's face had been a blank
mask, only the eyes communicating his horror. In his hand he'd clutched
a fabric heart identical to those taken by the deceased serial murderer,
John Lee Roche. In a deviation from Roche's M.O., however, this killer
was mailing the hearts to Mulder with directions to the location of each
body. The collection of hearts now numbered six, and Skinner had watched
Mulder die a little with each new delivery. The last three little girls
had all been dark haired and eerily reminiscent of his sister Samantha.

"I knew he was working too hard," Skinner admitted, feeling more than a
twinge of guilt at his complacency. "I just didn't realize he had
reached this point. He's very good at hiding it, and we needed him so
badly that I just didn't let myself look too closely. I'm sorry,
Scully."

Scully shrugged, but her eyes were still haunted. "You supported me,
sir. You've let Mulder perceive you as the villain in this, and I
appreciate that. If he knew the idea came from me he would view it as
betrayal."

Skinner reached out to briefly lay a comforting hand on her arm before
they both stood. "Take care of him, Scully. You and I both know he's
going to fight this. Keep him out of here, make him get some food and
some sleep. I'll stay in touch."

Scully cocked an eyebrow and for a moment he saw a flash of her dry
humor. "Your confidence in me is inspiring, sir, I just hope it's not
misplaced. I'll do my best."

Skinner watched her square her shoulders a bit before exiting the
office. Watching over Mulder in his present state of mind would be no
easy task, but he had no doubts that she was equal to it.


Hegal Place
Monday
6:30 p.m.


The phone rang and Scully hastily scooped up the receiver, wincing a
little at the noise.

"Hello?" she said, keeping her voice as low as possible.

Silence greeted her and she was just beginning to feel irritated when
there was a tentative response.

"Dana?"

The smile felt alien on her face, an indication of just how tense the
past weeks had been.

"Hi, Grey! How are you?"

"Can't complain. How 'bout yourself?"

She couldn't disguise the slight hesitation. "Oh, hanging in there. It's
good to talk to you, it's been a while."

"Yeah, well, I've had an awfully hard time nailing down Fox. Every time
I call lately I just get the machine. Hearing your voice kind of
startled me. Is he there?"

Scully gazed down at the dark head pillowed on her lap. Mulder was still
deeply asleep, the lines of worry smoothed and his breathing deep and
even. One arm was curled possessively across her knees and the other lay
face up on the couch, the fingers slightly curled as if he were trying
to grasp something elusive.

"He's here, but he's asleep, Grey, and I'd really rather not wake him."

She could almost see him checking his watch, feel his puzzlement. "Dana,
it's six-thirty. He's asleep?"

Scully's lips curved slightly at his obvious astonishment. "It's been a
rough few weeks. Mulder's been working a profiling case that's become
rather...personal. He's pushed himself to the point of exhaustion and
Skinner just ordered him to take a week off to recoup."

"I bet that went over real well," Grey remarked dryly.

She found herself actually grinning and it felt wonderful. "He was less
than gracious about it," she confirmed. "I finally managed to get him to
lay down for a bit and he crashed hard."

In truth, she'd tricked him into watching a movie, knowing he'd never
last. Fifteen minutes past the opening scene his eyes had begun to
droop. She'd pulled him down onto her lap, stroking her fingers
soothingly through his hair in a manner she knew from past experience
would relax him completely. Five minutes later he was limp against her
and she'd switched off the movie she'd never really wanted to watch, in
favor of a book.

"You sound worried, Dana. Just how bad is he?" Grey's voice was probing,
concerned.

She just didn't have the energy to dodge the question, and she didn't
really want to. Suddenly, she was the one in need of some support. "It's
bad, Grey. He can't sleep without terrible nightmares, so he just
doesn't sleep. And he hasn't been eating. Even when I manage to get him
to consume something, half the time he winds up in the bathroom vomiting
it back up."

Grey was silent for a moment, considering. "You said that Skinner took
him off this case for a week?"

"That's right. After that he'll decide if Mulder has recovered enough to
continue."

"Think you could get him down here?"

The question caught her completely by surprise. "What?"

"Fox. Do you think you could get him down here for a few days? I've
wanted him to meet my family for a while now but he's always too busy
with work. Maybe getting completely away from everything for a few days
would do him some good."

A simple idea, but the more she considered it the better she liked it.
In fact, it might just be the only way Mulder would survive the next
seven days.

"You sure you're up for that?" she asked, her mind still working
furiously on the details. "What about work?"

"I'll take a few days off. I've got plenty of time stored up and things
have been amazingly quiet." Grey paused and she could feel him
considering his next words. "I'd like to help, Dana. Fox and I have lost
so much time that we can never get back. I want to be as much a part of
his life now as I can."

The naked honesty of his words brought a lump to her throat, but her
heart soared. "I think it might be just what he needs, Grey. The hard
part will be convincing Mulder of that fact."

Grey chuckled quietly. "Yeah. He does tend to be a bit stubborn, doesn't
he? Let me think a minute."

Scully, amused by Grey's assessment of his brother (definitely the pot
calling the kettle black), was content to wait. Mulder moved restlessly,
his fingers twitching as he whimpered softly. She could see his eyes
moving rapidly beneath the pale lids - a nightmare. When she murmured
something softly reassuring and resumed threading her fingers through
the thick dark hair he quieted.

"You still there?" Grey asked, obviously having overheard.

"Still here. Come up with any brilliant ideas?"

"Tell him I need his help...building a shed. In the back yard."

"*That's* your clever plan?"

"It's the best I can come up with on such short notice," Grey replied
sounding hurt, and she could almost see the protruding lip. Evidently
pouting was a genetic trait in the Mulder family. "I've been meaning to
do it for years."

"You know, Mulder isn't exactly a handyman kind of guy," Scully said
skeptically. "And do you even have the materials for a shed?"

"I will by the time you get here."

The laughter bubbled up without warning and she struggled not to disturb
Mulder. "Sometimes you are so much like him. I think it's the whole 'fly
by the seat of my pants' attitude."

"I think I'm offended," Grey replied, fueling her laughter until the
tears slipped down her cheeks.

She finally got the giggles under control and sighed. "Thanks, Grey. You
don't know how much I needed that."

"No problem, darlin'. Can I expect you two sometime tomorrow?"

"I'll do my best."

Grey's voice was warm. "Then I'll see you soon. Don't you realize by now
that Fox can't really deny you anything?"

She hung up the phone and gazed down affectionately, her hand still
rhythmically caressing silky strands. *Might as well give up now,
Mulder. Between Grey and me you don't stand a chance. * The thought
brought her a sense of peace she'd not felt in weeks.


Continued in part 2

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (2 of 16)
By Dawn 
Sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1


Eagle Rock, NC
Tuesday
5:30 p.m.


Mulder was in his own world again, one that Scully couldn't enter and
didn't really wish to. Though his eyes stared out the passenger window,
the focus was inward, his brow contracted with troubled thoughts. She
sighed and turned off the ignition but made no move to exit the car.

"I miss you," she said quietly.

She wasn't sure if her intention had been to startle him, but it did. He
turned abruptly from the window to face her, his expression both puzzled
and slightly irritated.

"What?"

"I said, I miss you."

The quick, casual dismissal of her words in any other situation would
have made her blood boil. "Scully, not only have we been working fifteen
hour days, we're practically living together. How can you possibly say
you miss me?"

"You really don't see it, do you? You haven't been here, Mulder, not
since you opened that first heart. You're like this, this...shell of a
human being; I don't recognize you half the time."

Anger, sharp and unrestrained, replaced his patronizing air. "What the
hell do you want from me, Scully? It's the only way I know how to stop
this bastard. It's what I *do*."

She tamped down on her own irritation with difficulty, recognizing the
defense mechanism. "I remember reading a story about a pioneer family
when I was little," she said, ignoring his folded arms and pursed lips.
"There were really bad blizzards, so bad that you could barely see your
own hand in front of your face. If they had to go out in weather like
that, say to feed the animals, they'd take a long rope and tie it to the
front door of the house and hang onto the other end. That way, if they
got lost in the storm they had an anchor, a means to find their way
back." She blinked impatiently at the sudden sheen of tears that blurred
her vision. "All I want is for you let me be that anchor, Mulder. Let me
help you find your way back. Is that too much to ask?"

The anger evaporated as quickly as it had come, and for the first time
in weeks, his protective mask lowered to reveal the deep hurt beneath.
"He's doing this for *me*, Scully. Little girls are dying because of
some sick need to impress me. I have to stop him."

The response was automatic -- one hand cupped the back of his neck and
guided him closer so that she could plant a soft kiss on his forehead
before resting her own against it. "I know that, love. You just don't
have to do it all alone."

Something like a shudder ran through him and his lips caught hers in a
bruising kiss. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled slightly. "Bear
with me, Scully. I'm still adjusting to that."

She pressed her lips to his again before releasing him with a smile. "No
problem, G-man. Now let's go before Grey sees us sitting here and comes
up with one of those cute remarks he's so fond of."

Mulder got out of the car, collecting their bags from the trunk on his
way. Scully slipped her arm around his waist as they walked across the
front yard to the door. She could feel the prominence of his ribs, the
way his jeans hung loosely on his hips. Mulder lifted his hand to ring
the bell, but paused.

"I'll try my best, Scully. But I don't want to be here."

She accepted the statement at face value, not as a reflection on his
affection for his brother but an expression of his frustration with
Skinner's mandate.

"Look at it this way, Mulder. This is the ultimate chance for you to
prove to me that you're a manly man in the full bloom of manhood."

He snorted, but broke into the first genuine smile she'd seen in weeks
as he pushed the button. A moment later the door was flung open by Grey,
a potholder in one hand and a grin on his face. Scully saw his smile
flicker a little when his eyes rested on his brother before he motioned
them both inside.

"Y'all made good time, did you have a smooth trip?"

"Scully just has a lead foot," Mulder replied, wincing when she jabbed
him in the ribs.

"You can set your bags down by the stairs, we'll take them up later. Can
I get you something to drink?

"Iced tea would be great, if you've got it," Mulder answered, doing as
Grey suggested.

Scully watched his expression turn from startled to bemused as Grey
pulled him into a quick hug and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Come on back," Grey tossed over his shoulder as he headed down the
hallway. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Hope you two haven't
eaten."

The grimace slipped out before he could stop it. Scully linked her
fingers with his and squeezed gently.
 
"Please try, Mulder."

The kitchen shone brightly with the late afternoon sun, the air redolent
with garlic and oregano. A large pot of something simmered on the stove
and a loaf of bread browned in the oven. Grey placed a large glass of
iced tea in Mulder's hand, the outside slick with condensation. Mulder
took a long draught, staring out the sliding doors at the pile of wood
near the back fence.

"A shed, huh? How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

Scully shot him a glare of supreme irritation as she accepted her own
glass, but Grey's lips quirked in amusement.

"Not long, really. It was a fly by the seat of my pants kind of thing."

Mulder scowled at little, looking offended when Scully openly chuckled
and Grey joined in.

"So things have been pretty quiet around here?" Scully asked, pulling a
chair from the table and sinking into it. After a moment Mulder followed
suit, but his fingers drummed nervously.

"To put it mildly. I'm even caught up on paperwork, and believe me,
that's a first," Grey said dryly, stirring the contents of the pot. "At
this point I could use a little excitement in my life."

"Careful what you wish for," Mulder murmured, picking at the corner of
his placemat.

Grey paused in his task, eyeing his brother shrewdly. "Dana said it's a
bad one."

Mulder's shoulders stiffened and his lips compressed to a thin line but
his eyes never rose from the table. "I don't want to talk about it.
Sorry I brought it up."

Grey, about to respond, caught Scully's slight shake of the head and
clamped his mouth shut. He leaned over to pull the golden loaf from the
oven, releasing a blast of hot air and the delicious smell of just baked
bread.

"Let's eat."

Dinner was minestrone soup, savory with herbs and fresh vegetables and
accompanied by the fresh bread. Scully sipped her wine, feeling the
tightness in her chest loosen just a bit when Mulder managed to consume
a slice and most of his bowl of soup. From the corner of her eye she saw
Grey inconspicuously observing with a look of satisfaction. With a burst
of affection, she understood that he had designed the entire meal, from
soup to wine, with his brother in mind. In his current condition, soup
was possibly the only food Mulder could have kept down, and the wine
would undoubtedly relax him. She sent Grey a look of gratitude and
received a wink in return.

"Go on into the family room," he urged, collecting Scully's bowl along
with his own and depositing them in the sink. "I'm just going to put
these in the dishwasher and I'll join you."

Mulder stood and silently cleared his own dishes before moving into the
next room. Scully looked about to help Grey, but he shook his head and
inclined it toward the doorway where Mulder had disappeared. By the time
she entered the room, her partner had already flicked on the television
and tuned it to CNN. The conflicting emotions of anger, sadness, and
frustration combined to form a large lump that lodged in the back of her
throat.

"Mulderrrr..."

Mercurial as always, the hostility was back. "I have to know what's
going on, Scully. Skinner won't let me call, what the hell do you
expect?"

"I expect you to let it go, which is what Skinner intended!" she
snapped, her own weariness and anxiety catching up with her at last.
"You are *off* the case, Mulder, and unless you play by the rules and
give yourself a chance to rest, Skinner will never let you rejoin the
team."

She regretted the words immediately, not that they weren't true and he
didn't deserve them, but because they only fanned the flames.

"I can't let it go, don't you understand that? It's with me every second
of every minute of every day! It's there when I try to eat, and God
knows, it's there when I try to sleep. I can't just put it aside like a
book I'll finish later. I have to at least know what's going on, Scully.
I have to know if he's done it again!"

He didn't even realize he was shouting until Grey appeared in the
doorway, a dishtowel clutched in his hand. He couldn't meet his
brother's troubled gaze, and Scully's face was a blend of anger and
worry, so he dropped his head into his hands.

"What are you going to do if he *has* taken another one, Mulder?" she
asked quietly, and a part of him was composed enough to be grateful that
it was uttered with compassion. "All it will do is tear you up inside.
Punishing yourself will not help those girls or catch this monster."

Before he could reply the anchorman's voice stole his attention and
Scully and Grey slipped painlessly into the background.

"...called Paper Hearts, named after a serial murder case solved over
ten years ago. In what authorities feel is an attempt to copy deceased
killer John Lee Roche, six girls between the ages of seven and ten have
been systematically kidnapped and murdered. The case received its name
because hearts were cut from the clothing of each of the murdered girls
and mailed with instructions for finding the body. Sources say that
someone inside the investigation has been the recipient of the hearts,
though authorities refuse to confirm the rumor or reveal a name. As of
today, there have been no new developments."

Like a marionette whose strings have been severed, Mulder sagged visibly
in relief at the words. His head pounded and he suddenly noticed that
his hands were trembling. Clasping them firmly together beneath his
chin, he tilted his head up to see Grey regarding him with a blend of
sympathy and horror.

"*That's* your case? The Paper Hearts case?" When Mulder nodded he ran
one hand through his hair, then froze as a second epiphany struck.
"*You're* the one he's sending the hearts to."

Scully's small hand pressed gently against Mulder's thigh and he slumped
back, letting his head drop against her shoulder. "Yeah. It's me."

Grey turned to fling the dishtowel into the kitchen, then strode quickly
across the room to snap off the television. "Geez, Fox, when were you
going to tell me? That story has been plastered all over the newspapers
and television for weeks, did you think I wouldn't want to know? No
wonder you walked in here looking like death warmed over!"

Perversely, he managed a small, sardonic grin at that. Scully had
slipped her arm around his shoulders and drawn him closer, a gesture so
simple in its mechanics yet profound to his spirit. "Death warmed over?"

Grey's lips curved, though his eyes remained troubled. "Hey, don't knock
it. That's my mother's expression. You looked in the mirror lately,
little brother?"

"You've got to admit, that description is eerily accurate," Scully
intoned.

"Ha, ha. If you're not going to let me watch the news can we at least
put on a movie?"

Scully abdicated herself from the choice and simply watched them haggle
-- a spectacle far more entertaining than the sci-fi thriller finally
agreed upon. Grey made popcorn and Mulder actually lasted three quarters
of the way through the show before she felt his head grow heavier on her
shoulder. She reached up carefully to run her fingers through his hair,
grinning a little when he sighed and snuggled his face into the hollow
between her shoulder and her neck. By the time the credits were
scrolling across the screen the regular puff of his warm breath on her
skin told her he was asleep.

Grey rose to turn off the set and then returned to sit in the large
stuffed chair that faced the couch. His eyes took in his bother's
boneless sprawl and softened.

"I wish you'd told me, Dana. Though I guess I understand why you
didn't."

"It wasn't something I wanted to discuss over the phone, Grey," she
replied, keeping her voice barely above a whisper while her hand
unconsciously began petting his hair again. "I never intended to keep
you in the dark."

"Why Fox? Why is this psycho sending him the hearts?"

Scully closed her eyes but was unable to block out the images of nearly
three years past: Roche's smug enjoyment as he held the final two little
girls like poker chips, Mulder's face when Addie Sparks' father asked
innocently if there were more unidentified victims, leaving him alone at
his desk with the final heart clutched between his fingers, too afraid
she'd cross the invisible line if she dared offer further comfort.

"Mulder's profile was responsible for putting away John Lee Roche in the
original Paper Hearts case. We think that the killer has fixated on
Mulder -- sees him as a challenge and is trying to impress him."

Grey leaned forward and dry washed his face with his hands. "No wonder
Fox can't back off. The guilt must be eating him up inside." He stood
slowly and stretched. "What are you going to do with him? You want me to
help you get him upstairs?"

She smiled and shook her head, tucking her hair behind one ear. "You go
on up, Grey. He'll wake up before long and I'll take him up then."

"You sure?" When she nodded his brow furrowed. "Dana, I can see he isn't
getting much sleep, but what about you?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, baffling Grey by smiling at her own words.
"Don't worry about me."

"Guest bedroom's to your left once you get to the top of the stairs,
there's a double bed. That is, unless you need me to set up the cot?" He
punctuated the question with a wicked grin.
 
Brothers. Scully rolled her eyes. "The bed will be fine, and do *not* go
there."

Unaffected by her warning, he gave her an exaggerated wink. "Good night,
Dana. Sleep well."

"You too, Grey. And thanks."

Scully listened to his feet pad up the stairs before silence descended.
She let her head drop back onto the cushion, relishing the sense of
peace. Though little had changed to ease her worry, Mulder's body was
warm against her own, and Grey's proximity reassuring. For now, that was
enough.


Continued in part 3

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (3 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
6:05 a.m.


It took Grey's sleep befuddled brain several minutes to process that
what had awakened him was the snick of the front door closing. Gazing at
the glowing display on his clock, he groaned softly and buried his face
in his pillow. This was supposed to be a day off, for Pete's sake -- he
didn't even get up this early on a workday. His thoughts had actually
begun to disengage and slip sideways into sleep when a clear image of
his brother's pale, too-thin face neatly short-circuited the process and
nudged him fully awake.

Muttering under his breath about insomniacs and tranquilizers, he pulled
on an ancient pair of shorts and a worn U of NC tee shirt. He padded
along the hallway and down the stairs, noting that the guestroom door
was tightly shut. As he'd suspected, Fox was leaning against the kitchen
counter in sweat-stained running clothes and sipping a bottle of water.
He appeared only marginally less exhausted than the previous evening.

"Good morning."

"You know, you're on *vacation* here, Fox. You don't have to get up at
the crack of dawn," he observed grouchily, plugging in the coffeemaker
and filling it with water.

He regretted the edge to the words immediately when his brother's face
went blank, an expression he'd already identified as "defensive mode."

"Couldn't sleep. Sorry if I woke you." The words were granite, smooth
and flat.

*Damn*. Grey thought, irritated equally with himself and Fox. *Why does
everything with you have to be so hard*?

"Forget it," he said aloud. "You probably noticed by now that I don't
wake up pretty."

That got him a delighted grin and broke the tension.

"Must be a genetic trait. Scully's no better though. We've learned to
tread lightly and set up the coffeemaker the night before."

Grey leaned back and folded his arms, favoring Fox with a raised
eyebrow. "Things are still pretty new. How's it going?"

His brother's eyes, normally cool and slightly wary, went amazingly soft
and liquid. "Incredible. I don't know what Scully could be getting out
of it, but I intend to treasure every moment while I can."

Something about that statement disturbed Grey, and his eyes bore into
Fox's. "You make it sound like it's temporary."

The bland look was firmly back in place and Fox shrugged, suddenly
fascinated with the brown stream that dribbled into the coffeepot.

"Don't give me that crap, Fox! Why would it be temporary? You figure
you'll get bored?"

Like poking a rattlesnake with a stick, but it got results. His brother
flushed and practically growled his response. "Are you crazy? What would
make you say a stupid thing like that? Have you looked at her lately --
better yet, listened to her?  Who could possibly get bored with that
much brains and beauty all in one package?"

"Then what? What's to stop you from being this way forever, from growing
old together?"

He gave a bittersweet smile at that, like a little kid with his nose
pressed up to the window of a candy store with no money in his pocket.
"*I* will." At Grey's mystified stare he continued. "I love her, Grey --
beyond reason -- beyond common sense. But I come with too much baggage,
and one day Scully isn't going to be able to deal with it any longer.
It's just a matter of time."

It left him speechless. Anger, pity, sadness -- even a strange kind of
amusement were all wrestling to take the upper hand. There was no
self-indulgence in Fox's face, just resignation. Marveling again at how
he'd been cast in the role of matchmaker, knowing that Kate must be
laughing herself silly somewhere, he considered his next words
carefully.

"So that's it, huh? Dana's not capable of loving someone
unconditionally. Or is it that you're just so astoundingly unlovable
that she can't be expected to?"

Fox gaped like a fish out of water. "I didn't...it's..."

Grey zeroed in for the sucker punch. "It's bullshit. Dana loves you,
baggage notwithstanding, and so do I. Your job is to get over yourself
and do whatever it takes to make her happy."

He wasn't used to vocalizing his feelings -- he was a guy, after all.
But the look on Fox's face before he turned away, blinking rapidly, told
him he'd better try more often.

"By the way, you'd better brace yourself," he said dryly.

Looking relieved at the change of subject, Fox's eyes narrowed
suspiciously. "For what?"

"We've been summoned to Mom's house for a cookout tonight. You're to
meet the McKenzie clan. Think of it as a coming-out party."

The panic was only half-feigned. "You're joking, right? This is to make
up for all those years you didn't have a younger brother around to
torment."

"Mulder, your paranoia is showing," Scully said, entering the kitchen
and crossing to his side, lips curved. "I made it quite clear to Grey
that *I* am the only one allowed to torment you."

She'd obviously just showered, her hair was still damp and her skin
smelled faintly of soap and shampoo. Grey watched it spread slowly
across his brother's face -- the smile that no one but Dana Scully could
elicit. He glanced politely away when Fox murmured "good morning" and
leaned down for a kiss, his own chest tight with the sudden sensation of
loss.

*Miss you, Kate. Every day*.

Swallowing the grief like a bitter pill, he mustered a smile. "Coffee's
ready. Any takers?"


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
2:47 p.m.



Mulder used the back of his arm to mop vainly at the sweat dripping from
his brow. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he groaned,
flopping down in the shade of an oak tree. "I'm dying."

"Don't be such a wimp. How far did you run this morning, anyway?" Grey
asked, dropping his hammer to rest his hands on his hips.

"Too far. Can't we take a breather? I need a drink."

"All right, all right. You stay there, I'll get us a soda," Grey
relented, grinning tolerantly.

"Tell Scully I expect her to join us. I'm no chauvinist," his brother
growled, stretching out on his back.

Scully was contentedly ensconced in a patio chair underneath the sun
umbrella, reading a medical journal and sipping iced tea. "Looks like
you two are making progress," she noted when Grey approached.

"Fox expects you to lend a hand," he replied. "I think it's supposed to
be some kind of reverse discrimination thing."

"Mulder frequently needs to lower his expectations," Scully returned
wryly. "And I think it's more a case of misery loving company. How's he
doing?"

"Let's just say there's a method to my madness. I can almost guarantee
he'll sleep like a baby tonight."

She smirked, but there was a weariness lurking around the edges. "We
could both use it."

When he returned with the sodas Fox's eyes were closed, but they
immediately cracked open and he hauled himself upright, hand extended.
For the next few moments the only sounds were the hiss pop of the can
opening followed by swallowing and a sigh of bliss.

"So, if I must make this foray into dangerous territory, you could at
least arm me beforehand. Who exactly am I meeting tonight?"

"You're nice. Okay, let's see. Mom and Dad, of course. Mom can be
counted on to fuss over you, she's been brutal about wanting to meet you
ever since she heard you'd found me. Then there's Shannon -- she's just
ten months younger than I am. Mom wound up getting pregnant right
after... Anyway, she's married to Rob and they have two kids -- Patrick,
twelve and Amanda, ten. Rob is an accountant and I think I mentioned
that Shannon works for a drug company. With me so far?"

"Barely. Your youngest sister is Kira, right?"

"Yeah," Grey's face darkened just a little. "She's divorced, and it was
a rough one. The guy used to get physical with her but she put up with
it until he started to be abusive toward their daughter, Claire. She
divorced him three years ago and hasn't seen him since. He just
disappeared -- a sure way to avoid child support. Claire is seven, now."

He looked up to see Fox was far away. "That's why Mom finally divorced
Dad," he murmured. "She put up with the booze and the verbal abuse. But
after the second time he took a swing at me she tossed him out."

Grey went very still, afraid to break the spell. Fox so rarely talked
about his years growing up, and had never so openly admitted his
father's abuse. He couldn't help wondering if this new openness was due
to Dana worming her way more deeply into his life.

"I'm sure that took a lot of courage," he finally said, feeling his way
like a man in a dark room. "I know it hasn't been easy for Kira."

"She never said it aloud, but I couldn't help feeling that she blamed me
somehow. Like if I'd been a better son, Dad wouldn't have... I don't
know. Scully always says I have an overdeveloped sense of guilt." He
actually smiled a little at that.

"Just don't let them all overwhelm you, Fox," Grey warned ruefully. "We
tend to be kind of a touchy-feely bunch. Don't let it put you off."

Fox rolled his eyes. "No problem. Scully's family tends to be the same
way -- at least, Mrs. Scully. Bill's kind of touchy-feely would probably
be to wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze."

Ah, yes, there was the problem of Scully's older brother. Grey recalled
a vague reference to Bill's less than charitable description of his
brother. Grey got to his feet and held out a hand, pulling Fox up after
him.

"Okay, you had your break. I figure we can get another couple hours in
before we need to get ready for dinner."

"Geez, you're a tyrant! What did you ever do before you had me to order
around?" Fox's voice was longsuffering but tempered by a mischievous
grin.

"Why do you think I went into law enforcement?" Grey deadpanned. "Now
pick up that hammer and get to work!"


Continued in part 4

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (4 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1



Bailey, NC
Wednesday
7:12 p.m.


"You're hiding. Are we *that* bad?"

Startled, Mulder looked up into the laughing brown eyes of Kira. Grey
was off somewhere with his brother-in-law, Rob, and when last seen
Scully was deeply engaged in a decidedly technical conversation with
Shannon about resistant bacteria. Left to his own devices and a little
overwhelmed by the boisterous crowd, Mulder had retreated to the small
gazebo near the back of the McKenzie's two-acre yard.

"More like your brother wore me out building that shed of his," he
replied, gesturing for her to take a seat.

Kira rolled her eyes. "*Please*. He was talking about that shed when
Kate was still alive. Wonder what finally lit the fire under his ass."

Mulder chose to keep his suspicions about *that* to himself, watching as
Kira plopped down into the lawn chair and brushed her long, curly brown
hair behind her shoulders.

"Grey says you hate to be called Fox. This must be your worst
nightmare," she noted, her grin exposing a set of matching dimples.

"Not even close," Mulder said ruefully. "I can't help it if I haven't
embraced my parents' folly the way Grey has, though."

"Don't let him snow you. He went through most of high school resenting
his name. Most of his friends called him 'Mac.'"

"Oh really? That's very interesting. Thanks for the info, Kira.
Obviously I should've been talking to you sooner."

"Hey, what kind of sister would I be if I wasn't willing to expose all
his dirty little secrets?" Kira laughed merrily, and Mulder was abruptly
struck by how pretty she was. She sobered a little, but her eyes were
still twinkling. "So, FBI, huh? Grey explained a bit about the X-Files.
Pretty interesting stuff."

Mulder felt himself tense, then fought against it when he identified
genuine curiosity on her face. "And your mother still invited me? Most
people find my job a little ... disconcerting."

Kira grinned. "Yeah? Well, I guess most people haven't seen every
horrible B horror and science fiction movie known to mankind."

"You?"

"Me."

Mulder clapped a hand to his chest. " Ah, a woman after my own heart!"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Do your students know about this dark side of
you?"

She blew out a small puff of air and chuckled. "Fox, I teach eighth
graders. Anyone over the age of twenty is on the dark side to them!"

Mulder aborted his reply when Claire stormed up to the gazebo, her small
face screwed up in distress and a bat and softball clutched in her
hands.

"Mommy! Patrick and Mandy are playing baseball and they won't let me
play too!"

Kira shot Mulder an apologetic look before taking her daughter's hand
and drawing her gently closer. Claire's brown eyes brimmed with tears
and her lip trembled.

"Honey, maybe they were already in the middle of a game," Kira suggested
gently. "I'm sure they'll let you play in a little while."

"That's not what they said," Claire said, her voice quavering. "They
said I can't play 'cause I'm no good. I can't throw the ball straight
and I can't hit either. They said I'm too little."

Mulder carefully suppressed a smile, vividly recalling countless battles
with Samantha over the same issue. Never one to be easily put off, his
sister would simply dog his every move until he gave in  or managed to
ditch her. Come to think of it, that was where he refined the technique
he'd eventually used on Scully.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know how hard it is to be the youngest, believe
me," Kira sympathized.

"I'll *always* be the youngest and I'll *always* be the worst," Claire
wailed. "It's not fair!"

"That's not true, you know," Mulder spoke up solemnly. "Well, the part
about always being youngest is. But that doesn't mean you can't be as
good as your cousins someday. You just need to practice."

Claire scowled. "But how am I going to practice if they won't let me
play?"

Mulder pretended to frown in deep thought. "Hmm. I see your point. I
suppose you'll just have to find someone else to practice with you."

Claire considered this, then lit up like a light bulb. "What about you,
Uncle Fox? Do you know anything about baseball?"

Momentarily caught off guard by the form of address, Mulder quickly
pulled himself together. "Me? Well, I suppose I know a thing or two."

"Would you play with me? Please?"

A person would have to be made of stone to resist that request. Mulder
reflected that Kira was going to have her hands full in about another
eight years. When he stood up, Claire squealed in delight, tears
forgotten. Kira eyes shifted from her daughter's happy face to Mulder's.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Mulder took the ball that Claire offered and backed off a short
distance, waiting for her to shoulder the bat. When she was ready, he
lobbed the ball gently toward her. Claire, her tongue sticking out of
the corner of her mouth in concentration, swung wildly and missed. Kira
abandoned her role as observer and jogged over to collect the ball and
toss it back to him.

"Okay, Claire, just relax a little and don't try so hard," Mulder urged.
"Just let the ball come to you."

When she nodded, her face eager, he pitched the ball again. Claire was
closer this time, but still swung too soon. Determination turned
instantly to frustration and tears welled in her eyes again.

"See? They're right! I can't do it," she lamented.

Mulder caught the ball that Kira threw back to him, but rather than
attempt another throw he trotted over to where Claire stood. He crouched
down in front of the little girl so they were at eye level.

"Don't give up," he admonished her gently. "You can do it, but not if
you quit. Let's try something a little different." He looked up at Kira.
"Think you can take over for a few pitches?"

"If you don't expect anything fancy."

As he'd done with Scully not so long ago, Mulder positioned Claire in
front of him and bracketed her small hands on the bat with his large
ones.

"Okay, Claire, we're going to hit that ball together. You're going to
step forward and swing, and you're going to remember one thing when you
do."

"What?" The eagerness was back in the little girl's voice and Kira was
watching, her smile a little wistful.

"Hips before hands. Like this."

He guided Claire through the motion, half of him remembering the way
Scully had felt in his arms that night. How she'd giggled -- Dana Scully
had actually giggled! He'd come so close to telling her everything,
pouring out his heart and soul, consequences be damned. Later, lying on
his couch in his apartment and aching with loneliness, he'd told himself
that everything had turned out for the best. That a relationship with
him would only cause her pain. That she didn't love him the way he loved
her. Thank God he'd been wrong.

Mulder suddenly realized that he'd let his thoughts drift, and both
Claire and Kira were watching him expectantly.

"So, what is it?" he asked Claire.

"Hips before hands," she piped up, the mirror image of her mother, right
down to the dimples.

Mulder nodded to Kira and she tossed the ball. The bat made contact with
a satisfying crack and Claire whooped with triumph.

"I did it! Mommy, I did it!"

Kira caught the ball and pitched it again, and again the little girl
connected. This time the ball flew past her mother to land several
hundred yards away. Claire dropped the bat and fairly danced with joy.

"Good job, baby," Kira called over her shoulder as she jogged out to
retrieve it.

"And you said you couldn't hit. Gonna have to start calling you Claire
Sosa," Mulder teased, grinning at the child's enthusiasm.

To his shock, Claire threw her arms around his waist in a bear hug.
"Thanks, Uncle Fox."

"Should I be jealous that you're giving another woman batting lessons,
Mulder?"

He turned to see Scully standing behind him, lips curved with amusement
and arms folded. Claire released him and smiled at her shyly.

"Did you see me hit the ball?"

"I sure did, and it was a beauty," Scully assured her. "Your grandma
sent me to tell you dinner is ready and you should get washed up."

"All right! I'm starving!" Claire bubbled and set off for the house at a
run.

Scully chuckled and Mulder slipped an arm around her shoulders, brushing
his mouth across hers in a quick kiss. "You can have another lesson any
time, babe," he murmured. "I've got a few moves I didn't show you last
time."

She pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow. "I bet you do. But since Kira
is headed our way and considering our present location I'd suggest you
give 'em to me later, stud."

Mulder threw back his head and laughed, delighting her with the
unrestrained sound. When he saw Kira hesitate, an odd look on her face,
he swung his arm in a beckoning movement and tilted his head toward the
house.

"Scully says dinner is served."

Kira fell in beside them as they turned back to the house. "That
explains it. I wondered why Claire was willing to stop playing so soon."

Mulder noticed the slight reserve to her speech but chalked it up to the
fact that Kira had spoken very little to Scully. They walked the rest of
the way in a silence that gave way to the babble of organized confusion
when they reached the large deck off the McKenzie's kitchen. They joined
the others who were already in the midst of loading their plates with
grilled chicken, potato salad, watermelon, corn on the cob and a spread
of other dishes. The three children took their plates and climbed up
into the small play fort to eat while the adults gathered around a large
picnic table.

Mulder found himself with Scully on one side and Kira on the other, his
brother seated just across the table. He listened to the others chat
easily about children, home improvements and vacations, feeling slightly
surreal. Remembering Scully's talk of a "normal" life, he glanced down
to find her looking back at him, a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
Grinning, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Dorothy."

She'd just moved her hand to give his a small squeeze when the
conversation jumped to include them.

"So, Fox, is there anything you'd like to know about Grey?" Shannon
asked, grinning evilly. "You know, stuff he wouldn't voluntarily admit
to?" Though equally as pretty, Shannon was the opposite of Kira in looks
-- straight blonde hair and green eyes.

"Shannon," Grey growled in warning.

"Hmm. Well, Kira already let me in on the fact that he hasn't always
been so enamored of his name," Mulder said thoughtfully, fixing his
brother with a baleful glare. "Which is interesting, considering he
lectured me on the same subject."

"That's nothing! We can tell way more interesting stories, can't we
Kira? Like the time he took Jenny Pritchard parking and forgot his
headlights on and..."

"SHANNON!"

Grey leaned over her threateningly as she attempted to fend him off,
laughing wildly.

"Later," Kira promised, shrinking back when her brother turned from
Shannon to her.

Mrs. McKenzie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's a good thing the
kids aren't here. Honestly, you three will never grow up."

"In an attempt to save my wife, I'll change the subject," Rob said
wryly. "You and Dana must get to some pretty exotic locations. What's
the farthest you two have ever gone on a case?"

Mulder glanced at Scully, saw she was going to let him do the talking,
and answered. "Well, the truth is that most of our cases are domestic,
though we do a large amount traveling. But we did wind up in Antarctica
last year."

Of course, it got a reaction. Grey's parents looked stunned and Rob gave
a low whistle. "Wow. You just exceeded my expectations."

"What kind of a case took you all the way down there?" Shannon asked,
cupping her chin in her hand and leaning forward in fascination.

A little sorry he'd mentioned what had been a very dark time, Mulder
shifted uneasily in his seat. "Um. I guess you could say it was a
retrieval mission."

"Am I just obtuse, or are you being deliberately cryptic?" Kira asked
dryly.

He couldn't help grinning at that, relaxing a little. Scully evidently
took pity on him because she finally spoke up.

"What he's not saying is that he was retrieving *me*. I'd been kidnapped
and taken there. Mulder came after me."

Grey's father frowned. "Kidnapping I can understand. But why
Antarctica?"

"I think there's a lot about the job that Fox and Dana can't go into,"
Grey inserted, coming to the rescue. "Details that are confidential."

"Then I suggest we stop pressing them about it," his mother said,
smiling warmly at them both. "I've waited this long to finally get Fox
here for a visit, I won't have the rest of you chasing him away with
your questions. Anyone want more? Fox? You look like you could stand to
put on a few pounds."

"Oh God, look out now," Kira murmured in his ear. "When Mom starts
worrying about your health you know she's officially adopted you."

Mulder couldn't help joining in her soft laughter. When he looked back
he found Scully watching him, an unidentifiable look on her face.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded, but her gaze was still speculative as it followed Kira when
she stood to clear her plate. He scooped up Scully's plate as well as
his own and carried them in to the kitchen, returning to help Grey's mom
as she began bringing in the leftover plates of food.

"Fox, don't be silly, I can handle this," she protested. "Go and relax."

"I'm relaxed, Mrs. McKenzie. And it's the least I can do after you gave
us such a terrific meal," he replied, carrying in a platter that had
once held the chicken breasts.

He found himself thrown off balance yet again when she turned to lay her
hand on his cheek. "Thank you, and call me Linda, Fox. Your mother
taught you well, she must have been very proud of you."

He couldn't recover quickly enough -- she must have seen something in
his eyes. Removing the plate from his grasp and setting it down on the
counter she took his hand in her own.

"Fox, Bill and Teena were our closest friends. I loved them dearly and I
would have done anything for them. Taking Grey was both the most
wonderful and the most terrible thing I've ever done. I'll never forget
Teena's eyes when I took him from her arms. And I'll also never forget
walking into her hospital room after your birth and seeing you fill
those arms again. Whatever else happened, whatever ways they may have
let you down, never doubt that she and Bill loved you very, very much."

Impulsively, surprising himself this time, Mulder blinked hard and
leaned over to place a quick kiss on her cheek. "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. "Now go enjoy yourself. I can
finish up here."

He was on his way back outside when a sound caught his attention and he
followed it into the next room. Rob was seated on a couch in the family
room, television on and the remote clutched in his hand. He looked up
guiltily.

"Shannon will be pissed if I watch T.V. so I'm just checking the score."

Anything else he may have said fell on deaf ears. He didn't remember
sinking down onto the floor, or Rob running out to find Scully. All he
could see was a little girl's face. All he could hear was the
anchorman's grave voice.

"...eight-year-old Samantha Thomas, discovered missing from her home in
Rockville at seven-thirty this morning. The pattern fits that of the man
dubbed the 'Paper Hearts' killer, and police have instituted a statewide
hunt for..."

He didn't realized he'd dropped his head onto his knees until he felt
Scully's soft hand run through his hair and settle warmly on his
shoulder. He looked up and saw the concern and confusion in her warm
gaze.

"Mulder? What's wrong?"

Her eyes followed his own to the screen and he saw comprehension and
sorrow flood them.

"He's done it again, Scully. Oh, God, he's done it again."


Continued in part 5

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (5 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
9:30 p.m.


Somehow, they'd made their excuses and left. Grey's family had been more
than gracious in despite the slight shock of learning that Mulder and
Scully were so deeply involved in "that" case. Grey's mother had been
particularly solicitous, fussing over Mulder in a way reminiscent of
Margaret Scully. Even Kira had gone out of her way to give his arm a
gentle squeeze, murmuring that she was sorry and hoped to see him again
soon.

Scully had reappeared at that point, back from saying her own farewells,
and had linked her arm in his. Mulder would have been amused at the
possessiveness of the gesture if he hadn't been so preoccupied with the
news of the latest kidnapping. He'd allowed Scully to steer him out to
Grey's car and badgered his brother until Grey had given in and tuned
the radio to an all news station for the trip home.

When they stepped into Grey's house, Mulder turned abruptly to pin
Scully with an intense and anguished stare. "I want to go home. Now."

*Here we go* thought Scully wearily, and the battle was joined.

"Mulder, there is no reason to go back. Skinner has removed you from the
case, and if he finds out you've disobeyed that directive you *know*
he'll suspend you." She tried to keep her voice calm and reasonable,
disturbed by the wildness in his eyes.

"Scully, he's taken another one. It's only a matter of time..."

"That doesn't change anything, Mulder. Skinner's orders were very
clear."

Outrage, desperation, fury -- all combined to sculpt Mulder's features
into an expression that made her flinch. "*Doesn't change anything?* How
can you say that? It changes everything! Who do you think is going to
open that next heart?"

"I don't know. But someone will. Skinner will take care of that. You're
on the edge, Mulder. You need to pull back and regroup before you can
continue. I agree with Skinner on that."

He stared at her with narrowed eyes, then suddenly went slack jawed in
astonishment. "It was you all along. *You* put Skinner up to this. *You*
told him to pull me off the investigation."

Scully wanted to deny it but she'd never been a good liar and the guilt
on her face was almost palpable. "I was worried about you. You weren't
eating, weren't sleeping -- you were beginning to look like a walking
corpse!"

"So you went behind my back to Skinner? How could you do that to me,
Scully?"

The betrayal that she'd feared when she asked Skinner to keep her
involvement a secret was all she could see in his eyes. "I love you. I
didn't know what else to do. Whatever you may think, I did it for you."

"So what -- I'm suppose to be grateful?" Mulder sneered. "Forgive me if
I can't find it in my heart to thank you right now, Scully. It's a
little hard when you've got a knife in your back."

Scully could only stare after him, open-mouthed, as he stomped up the
stairs to the guestroom and the door shut loudly behind him. Grey
winced, seemed about to reach for her, then dropped his hand back to his
side.

"He was out of line, Dana. He's not thinking straight."

Part of her was angry, part just hurt. "Yeah. That's supposed to make it
all right, I guess."

Grey frowned. "No, not all right. Just...comprehendable."

She laughed, but it was a bitter, jagged sound. "Well, you can't fault
me for not knowing him. I told Skinner he'd go ballistic if he found out
I was the one behind this little vacation."

The sound of a door opening and Mulder came down the stairs dressed in
running clothes. "I'm going running," he said unnecessarily, avoiding
Scully's eyes. "I'll be back in while."

"Hang on a minute, I'll go with you," Grey said.

He actually had a foot on the first step before Mulder's empathetic
reply stopped him.

"NO. I need some time alone, not company."

He didn't wait for acknowledgement or acceptance, just disappeared out
the front door and shut it firmly. Grey looked taken aback, then his
lips curved slightly.

"Now, see that? It's not just you he's mad at, it's everyone."

Scully managed a genuine smile, shaking her head ruefully. "I feel so
much better."

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," Grey chuckled, heading down the hall to
the kitchen. "You know him better than I, is he going to be all right?"

"Diet Coke, please," Scully said when he'd opened the refrigerator and
looked at her inquiringly. "And the answer to your question is yes and
no. He'll run until he's worked the anger out of his system -- or at
least until he has a better handle on it.  Running has always been one
part exercise to two parts therapy for Mulder. But he's not really in
the kind of shape for that kind of exertion right now, so he'll most
likely come back completely wiped out."

Grey sipped his own soda, just mulling over her words for several
minutes. "Dana," he finally began hesitantly. "I don't want to pry, so
feel free to tell me to butt out if necessary. I just can't help feeling
like there's something more about this case that you're not telling me.
I understand Fox's pain over these murdered little girls, and that the
ties to his old case make that pain even more acute. Still..."

Scully sighed, but her lips quirked. "You Mulder brothers and your damn
intuition. No, it's okay," she hastened to add as Grey began to
backpedal. "You're right. There *is* something else about this case that
presses Mulder's buttons." Another sigh, and she searched for the right
words. "You already know that Mulder's profile put away John Lee Roche,
the original Paper Hearts killer. At the time Roche had confessed to
thirteen murders, but Mulder was always skeptical, always wondered if
there were more little girls we didn't know about. About three years
ago, Mulder had a ... a dream that lead him to the location of a body.
It was another little girl, and her clothing was missing a piece of
fabric in the shape of a heart."

Grey's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "A *dream*? Okaaay. So I take
it that Roche had killed that little girl as well?"

Scully nodded, grimacing a little at the memories that battered her.
"We found Roche's stash of fabric hearts and there were sixteen,
including one for Addie Sparks, the little girl Mulder dreamed about.
Mulder hoped we could convince Roche to come clean about the last two
girls so we went to see him in prison."

"That must have been pleasant," Grey noted dryly.

"He basically jerked us around, but that wasn't the worst of it. He
inferred that one of the two remaining victims was Samantha."

Grey closed his eyes. "Shit."

"No kidding. Mulder lost all perspective. He became convinced that Roche
had killed his sister, and finding out that Roche *had* been in New
England in 1973 and *had* sold his dad a vacuum cleaner only supported
that belief. See, that's how Roche chose his victims -- selling vacuums
door to door." Scully paused and massaged her temples in a vain effort
to quell the headache that was building.

"Roche wouldn't tell Mulder where Samantha was supposedly buried -- said
he had to *show* him."

*I can't wait to see your face*...

Scully grimaced again, recalling the look on Mulder's face at those
words, her own fury. "Mulder signed Roche out of prison without
Skinner's permission and Roche ended up getting away from him. He
kidnapped another little girl before we could track him down and was
holding her hostage. Mulder had to shoot him."

Grey ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. "So Fox never
knew for sure if Roche was telling the truth?"

"One victim is still unidentified," Scully said softly. "I think
subsequent events have shown Mulder that Roche was lying. But I also
think there will always be that one small kernel of doubt."

Grey didn't speak at first, just finished his drink. "Thanks, Dana. I
appreciate you filling me in. It all makes more sense now."

Scully set down her own empty glass and rose to her feet. "I think I'll
call Skinner. Maybe he can give me something that will reassure Mulder a
little. It's worth a try."

She made her way up to the guestroom and dug her cell phone out of her
suitcase, still unable to shake the memories of Roche. Mulder had nearly
lost his job over that incident. She was determined to see he didn't
make a similar blunder now.

Skinner was still at the Bureau, his voice gruff with barely checked
impatience. "Skinner."

"Sir, it's Scully."

A short pause, she could almost hear the wheels turning. "How's he
taking it?"

Part of her wanted to smile at his perceptiveness, part to weep at the
need for it. "Not good."

"Can you keep a leash on him?"

Her lips twisted in the parody of a grin. "I'm not sure. I'm not very
high on his list right now. He figured out I was the one who convinced
you to pull him from the team."

Skinner cursed softly. "I'm sure that went over really well."

"What's the status, sir? Do you have anything I can give him to pacify
him? Anything at all?"

Skinner's sigh spoke of too many cups of coffee and too many sleepless
nights. "I wish I did, Scully. But so far we've come up empty-handed,
and the next heart will be due in less than twenty-four hours." She
could almost see him pinch the bridge of his nose. "Be straight with me,
Scully. Is he going to hare out on you like last time?"

A spark of irritation flared at his words. Resentment of being cast in
the role of Mulder's keeper once again. Most of the time she didn't
really mind, but today it had been a thankless job.

"I'm doing my best to avoid that, sir."

Skinner obviously detected the sharpness in her tone, since his voice
turned distinctly apologetic. "I know you are, Scully. You're probably
the one person who can."

It eased the tension, and she smiled. "I've got a little help this time.
Grey will sit on him, if necessary."

Skinner actually chuckled at that. "A Mulder against a Mulder. Now why
didn't I think of that? Keep me informed, Scully."

"Yes, sir."

Scully was just tucking her cell phone away when she heard the front
door open and the sound of laughter. Puzzled, she descended the stairs
to see Mulder standing in the front hall with Kira at his side, both
bearing several plastic containers. Grey had just emerged from the
kitchen.

"Hey, Sis, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" he asked,
smiling.

"Y'all left so quickly, Mom didn't have time to give you any of the
leftover food. I told her I'd drop it off on my way home," she
explained. "I saw Fox and gave him a lift back." She grinned. "He looked
like he needed it."

Mulder grinned back, all traces of his former anger missing -- a fact
which irritated Scully. "She's right. I was hurting."

"You know I never turn down free food. Bring it on back, do you want
something to drink?" Grey offered.

Kira shook her head and handed him her offerings. "Thanks, but Claire is
asleep in the car and I have to get her home to bed." She grasped the
doorknob but paused. "See you tomorrow, Fox?"

Mulder cheerfully nodded. "Guess so, if you're sure."

"I'm positive. Good night, everyone."

Grey locked the door, turning to his brother with a question on his
face. "Tomorrow? What's she roped you into -- talking to her students?"

"Bingo," Mulder confirmed, wiping his sweaty brow with the hem of his
shirt. "They've been studying different professions and she thinks the
kids would be interested."

"Yeah. She talked me into it last year. Have fun little brother, the Q&A
session can get...interesting." Grey said wryly.

"Great. I'm going to hit the shower," Mulder replied, and Grey relieved
him of his own containers.

Scully was still standing halfway down the stairs, her brain trying to
process his mood swing, when Mulder reached her and stopped. Grey
immediately made himself scarce in the kitchen.

Mulder's expression was contrite. "Scully, I shouldn't have said what I
did. I'm sorry." He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and continued past
her.

She was abruptly furious. The anger came on several different levels --
several different flavors, you might say. First, was the bitter taste
from a brief apology that was supposed to magically erase his hurtful
words spoken not an hour before. Then there was the sour tang from his
easy laughter with Kira -- again, not an hour after he'd basically
accused *her* of disloyalty. They formed a very unpleasant combination.

She stomped up the remaining stairs to find him stripping his clothes in
preparation for a shower. The sight of his ribs, so much more prominent
than normal, gave her pause for a moment but she bit back her sympathy.
Not even attempting to be diplomatic, she let him have it with both
barrels.

"Kira has a crush on you, Mulder."

He gaped. Scully knew the pattern by now -- Sheila Fontaine, Karin
Berquist. For some reason, Mulder seemed unable to accept the simple
fact that women were attracted to him. She folded her arms across her
chest and glared at him, daring him to deny her words. Mulder's
answering scowl appeared within seconds.

"What the hell are you talking about? She's Grey's *sister.* I'm like
another brother, for Pete's sake! Her daughter calls me Uncle Fox."

"Be that as it may, she *does* have a crush on you," Scully snapped, out
of patience. "You'd better be very careful."

He stared at her for a moment before adopting the expression she could
only call his "smartass" look. The one that said she knew nothing while
he, on the other hand, was an authority on everything. It made her
crazy.

"You're jealous, Scully. And while I find that flattering, it's not a
very nice way to treat Kira. Now, I'm going to take my shower."

Scully wanted so badly to slug him her fingers actually curled into a
fist. Instead she forced herself to try again.

"You're the one that needs to take a look at how you're treating Kira,
Mulder. You're going to wind up hurting her if you don't."

Anger replaced amusement. "Drop it, Scully. I'm not discussing this with
you any more. Whatever problem you may have with me, there's no excuse
for taking it out on Kira. You only sound vindictive."

Mulder stalked into the bathroom and shut the door, cutting off any
chance for reply. Bewildered, hurt, and very angry, Scully was left
standing dumfounded in the middle of an empty room.


Continued in part 6

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (6 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com


Eagle Rock
Thursday
5:48 a.m.


Seriously considering the idea of inflicting bodily harm, Grey swung his
legs off the side of the bed and scrubbed at his face with both hands.
He padded past the closed guestroom door and down the stairs, not really
surprised to find his brother sipping water in front of the television
this time. Tuned to CNN, of course.

"Don't you ever sleep?" he growled, starting the coffee. "And how often
do you run, anyway?"

"Good morning to you, too," Fox said, never pulling his eyes from the
screen.

"I'm serious, Fox, you're in no kind of shape right now to be running so
much. You've already dropped too much weight. Dana's going to be
pissed."

Fox muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like
"so what's new?" Grey dropped into the recliner, noticing for the first
time that the afghan was unfolded and the couch appeared to have been
slept on. Uh oh.

"You *did* patch things up with Dana last night, didn't you?" he
demanded, brows drawn together.

"Back off, Grey. This is none of your business," his brother warned,
still not meeting his eyes.

"You were a jerk, Fox. If you can't see that ..."

"Just shut up!" Fox snapped, springing to his feet and taking two quick
strides forward.

For a moment Grey actually flinched, certain that he was about to
receive a more physical expression of his brother's anger. Fox only
flicked off the television and turned to glare at him, hands on hips.

"What goes on between Scully and me is *our* business. Leave it
alone."

Grey heard the whisper of sock feet on tile and Dana stepped into the
kitchen. Her hair was rumpled and a white terry bathrobe shrouded her
small form. Dark circles beneath her blue eyes attested to a less than
restful night. Grey watched as her gaze wandered to Fox and then
skittered quickly away, a combination of anger and hurt darkening her
expression. His brother visibly stiffened, jaw clenched.

"Morning, Dana," Grey greeted easily. "Coffee should be just about
ready."

"Thanks, Grey."

Grey got up and ambled into the kitchen, sensing his brother just two
steps behind. Scully pulled two mugs from the cupboard and filled both
with coffee, silently handing one to Mulder. He accepted the offering,
the brittleness of his mood softening and his lips curving slightly.
Mulder's fingers snagged Scully's after he'd taken the mug, and entwined
with them.

"You look tired," he said softly.

Scully moved closer and leaned into him, looking up into his eyes. "I
didn't sleep so well last night. I was cold."

Sharp enough to realize she wasn't indicating she'd needed a blanket,
Grey opened the refrigerator and busied himself with extracting English
muffins and jam. From the corner of his eye he saw Fox reach out to cup
Dana's cheek, murmuring words he hoped were some form of apology.

The next few minutes were spent in a fairly comfortable silence except
for the sounds of the toaster popping and the refrigerator opening and
closing. When they had seated themselves at the table Mulder fixed
Scully with a penetrating stare.

"I checked CNN. Samantha Thomas is still missing."

Grey tensed, prepared for a burst of anger that never came.

"I'm not surprised. I talked to Skinner last night. He wasn't hopeful,"
Scully said quietly. "Mulder, I know what you're thinking ..."

Mulder's grip on his mug was white knuckled. "You mean like there's no
way in hell that it's a coincidence this one's name is Samantha? Or that
she's already dead and discarded somewhere, waiting for us ..." His
voice caught and he took several ragged breaths before continuing. "For
*someone* to come dig her up? Like an object, a ... a prop whose only
purpose is to continue this bastard's sick ego-trip while I sit around
pounding nails and proving I'm no Bob Villa? Because if that's what you
know I'm thinking, then you're absolutely right."

"I know you're frustrated, Mulder," Scully replied, an edge creeping
into her voice. "But driving yourself to the point of complete physical
and emotional collapse won't help those little girls."

"And this will? I'm sorry, Scully, but I just can't accept that!"
Mulder pushed away the plate that still contained half of a muffin and
stood, his chair scraping noisily against the floor.

"Mulder, please! At least sit down and finish eating," Scully said,
worry masquerading as irritation in the small line between her eyes.

"I need to shower. Kira's picking me up at 7:30."

The small line became more pronounced. "So you're actually going through
with that? Since when have you been so eager to talk to a bunch of
middle-schoolers?"

Grey watched as his brother, who'd carried his plate to the sink, spun
around with his face twisted in a snarl. "What do you want from me,
Scully? You're on my back about not pursuing the case but when I try to
do something to take my mind off it you give me grief! Make up your damn
mind!"

When Fox had stomped out of the kitchen, Grey turned, expecting matching
fury from the woman beside him. What he did see left him startled and
fumbling for a response. For just an instant Dana's face bore a naked,
vulnerable expression of hurt until she seemed to feel his gaze and the
cool mask slipped into place.

"You've been getting a ringside seat lately, Grey," she said wryly.
"Sorry about that."

Still feeling as if he were nearsighted and operating without glasses,
Grey smiled reassuringly. "I'm not exactly shocked, Dana. Kate and I had
our own share of brawls, believe me. And don't worry about Fox. Kira
will take good care of him, and those kids won't leave him with any time
to get into trouble. In fact, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you came
along too."

Dana's lips quirked but there was no humor in her voice. "I'm sure
she'll manage just fine without me. Anyway, I have some paperwork I can
catch up on." Her dishes joined the others in the sink though her exit
was far less dramatic than Mulder's had been.

Grey sat alone at the table with his now-cold cup of coffee, trying to
figure out what had just occurred. Dana's expression when he'd mentioned
Kira had been decidedly strained. And though things were already tense,
Dana's reaction over Fox talking to Kira's students seemed unfair,
almost ...  Grey shook his head when the word popped into his mind.
Jealous? Dana Scully was an extremely confident and secure woman, nearly
impossible to picture in the role of possessive girlfriend. If she'd
reacted that way to Kira, she must have seen something he'd missed. He
was still replaying the events of the last twelve hours through his mind
when the front doorbell rang perfunctorily and Kira let herself in with
her key.

"Hey you! I know I'm early, but Claire was itching to get to daycare and
I figured Fox and I could ..." She trailed off, puzzled by her brother's
intent expression. "What?"

Inspiration struck, and Grey leaned back. "Nothing. You can have a cup
of coffee if you'd like. They should be ready soon."

Kira's bright smile faded, causing his gut to churn with disappointment
and sympathy. "They? But I thought just Fox ..." She stopped abruptly
this time, reading the emotions in her brother's eyes.

"Kira. What do you think you're doing?" Grey said, his voice a soft
rebuke.

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I came to pick up Fox! I just wasn't
expecting Dana to come along."

"She's not. I just said that to see your reaction. It told me all I need
to know, Kira."

Kira's chin came up and her eyes blazed. "I don't know what you're
talking about!  I just asked Fox to help me because I thought the kids
..." She lost steam and her shoulders slumped under his steady gaze.

Grey stood up and pulled her into his arms. "I know you're lonely, Kira.
You think I don't understand that? But this isn't the way, and you know
it."

His sister clutched his tee shirt in her fists and buried her face in
his neck. "I really like him, Grey. He's sweet and it seems like we
actually have some things in common. And he was so good with Claire. Do
you know how many men turn tail and run when they find out I have a
child?"

Grey reached up to stroke Kira's curls, struggling around the lump in
his throat. "I understand, Mouse. He's a good man, and God knows you
deserve that. But believe me when I say that I have never seen two
people who belonged together more than Fox and Dana. You'll only hurt
them and yourself unless you accept it."

Kira stepped back, blinking back her tears. "I told myself there was
nothing special between them," she said huskily. "I wanted to believe
that."

Grey smiled ruefully, remembering his brother's drugged confession.
*She's everything to me.* "I gotta hand it to you, Mouse. When you're
wrong, you're wrong."

Kira mustered a wisp of a smile, thin and unsubstantial. "I'm sorry,
Grey. I just didn't want to be alone any more. Is that so wrong?"

The lump became a fist, squeezing until his voice was little more than a
whisper. "If it is, I'm right there with you."

"You think we have a chance, that maybe the right person is out there
somewhere?"

Grey thought about Kate -- the laughter, the tears, the love. It was
inconceivable that he'd already received his allotment of that kind of
happiness -- happiness Kira had yet to experience.

"God, I hope so, Kira. I'm counting on it."


Eagle Rock
Thursday
11:52 a.m.


Kira pulled into the driveway and put the car into park, still laughing
softly.

"Well you can't say that Grey didn't try to warn you," she said.

Mulder snorted, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. He said the
questions could get 'a little rough.' Major understatement."

She grinned. "Come now, Agent Mulder. They weren't *that* bad. I think
you handled yourself very well."

"Sure until that kid, Mike Pervert."

Kira snickered. "Purvis."

"Whatever. How am I supposed to answer when a fourteen-year old kid asks
if I get to use my handcuffs at home?" Mulder's voice was righteously
indignant.

"You have a dirty mind. He probably meant it very innocently," Kira said
sternly, but couldn't keep up the faade and collapsed into laughter
again.

"I'd better let you get back before your entire lunch hour is over,"
Mulder said when they'd regained some semblance of control. He reached
for the door but was stopped by Kira's hand on his arm.

"Fox, wait a minute. There's something I need to say to you."

Puzzled, he released the handle and looked at her expectantly. Kira took
a deep breath and slowly let it out, gathering her courage. "Fox, I ...
I think maybe I've caused trouble between you and Dana."

He frowned and shook his head, holding up one hand to stop her from
continuing. "Kira, please don't worry about that. Scully just has this
strange notion in her head, but she'll get over it."

"She's right, Fox. She had every reason to be jealous."

Mulder's jaw dropped and he blinked. "What? What are you saying?"

Kira ducked her head, reddening. "I'm saying that my motivations for
asking you to talk to the kids today were not exactly pure. I like you,
Fox, and I'd hoped ..." She looked up, still blushing but her face
composed and determined. "Anyway, I didn't realize the depth of your
relationship with Dana -- or didn't want to. I'm really sorry. I hope
you understand and forgive me. And I really hope Dana can."

Still thunderstruck, Mulder grasped for a response. "Kira, I ... I don't
know what to say. I'm flattered. But I also hope that I didn't do
anything to make you think ..."

Kira impulsively laid her hand on his arm and shook her head. "You
didn't. You were fun to talk with and very sweet to Claire. I saw only
what I wanted to see."

Mulder's shock was suddenly subordinated by the memory of Scully's
warning and his own insensitive comeback. He winced, then looked at
Kira.

"Thank you for telling me, Kira. I know this couldn't have been easy for
you to say."

Kira's lip trembled slightly, but she shrugged. "I think I owed you both
than much. Now I guess I'd better get back to school." She paused. "I
hope we can still be friends, Fox."

Mulder smiled. "I'd like that, Kira."

He stood on the driveway long after she'd driven out of sight, feeling a
bit shell-shocked. Finally he wandered around the side of the house to
the backyard, figuring that Grey would be working on the shed. His
brother was nowhere in sight, but Scully was laying on a chaise lounge,
enjoying the late September sun and filling out an expense report. She
eyed him blankly and dropped her eyes back down to the papers.

"Have fun?"

Her voice was cool, face expressionless and her walls firmly locked into
place. Mulder's stomach clenched.

*I am an idiot, and this calls for some serious groveling*.

He walked over to the chair and sat on the edge, ignoring her grunt of
irritation.

"Move over."

"*Move over?* In case it's escaped your keen, analytical mind, Mulder,
this chair was built for one -- ahhh!"

Scully shrieked in surprise as he slid his body more securely onto the
webbing and reclined, rolling her so that she was neatly stretched
against his side. Scully, now furious at being manipulated like an
oversized doll, struggled to sit up, but he calmly pulled her back down
until her head rested on his chest and was tucked beneath his chin.

"Mulder, I don't know what you think you're doing, but ..."

"Trying to come up with an adequate apology for being such a bastard. It
isn't easy for me, even when I know it's true."

Scully stopped squirming and went very still. She could hear the rapid
thumping of his heart, feel the tension thrumming through his limbs.
This was no casual request for forgiveness.

"Go on."

"Kira asked me to tell you she's sorry for any trouble she caused
between us. She admitted to me that she...um ..."

Scully took pity on him. "I get it, Mulder. You don't need to draw me a
picture."

"I don't know what to say, Scully, except that you were right. I just
hope you believe me when I say that I never meant to do anything to make
Kira feel that way."

She couldn't help smiling a little at the bewildered note to his voice.
"I know that, Mulder. Just like I know it's remotely plausible for
someone to think you're hot."

He laughed softly at that, and she could feel the anxiety seep from him.
His fingers began to comb gently through her hair and she sighed,
feeling the knot in her own chest loosen.

"I'm sorry too, Mulder."

The hand in her hair froze and he tilted her head up so that her eyes
met his own. "You? What do you have to be sorry about, Scully?"

She ducked her head back down but tightened the arm thrown across his
chest. "I could've handled things better. I may have been right about
Kira, but I was also jealous. I'm still trying to adjust to the change
in our relationship, and I guess sometimes I feel a little insecure
about my place in your life."

He tilted her chin up again and she was overwhelmed by the unguarded
love on his face. "You're in the same place you've been for the last six
years, Scully. At the very center, touching every part of me. That
hasn't really changed." He grinned mischievously. "I just get to do this
now."

He tugged her closer and his lips met her own, softly and tenderly at
first, then with increasing passion as her mouth opened and the kiss
deepened. With an impish smile of her own, Scully abruptly shoved him
backward so that she was essentially on top of him. She braced her arms
on his chest and set about exploring every inch of his mouth, her tongue
twining with his one moment, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip the
next. Mulder moaned softly and plunged his hands into her hair,
attempting unsuccessfully to hold her still long enough to regain the
upper hand.

"Glad to see you two worked out your differences," Grey drawled,
startling them both so that Scully nearly toppled off the lounge.

They shared a smile, still breathing heavily, before Scully carefully
moved over so that Mulder could stand up. With a smirk, he handed her
the crumpled expense report that had become situated under his right
thigh.

"That's the second time you've done that," he said to his brother, eyes
squinted in annoyance. "Did you ever consider just turning around and
coming back later?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Grey replied innocently. "Anyway, I just got
the mail and there's a letter for you. Must be from work, the postmark
says D.C."

To Grey's surprise the color drained from his brother's face and the
hand that reached for the letter trembled. Scully was on her feet and at
his side in one quick movement.

Mulder's fingers shook so badly it took two attempts before he'd
loosened the flap. Before he could reach inside, Scully's hand shot out
to stop him.

"Mulder, wait!"

She reached down to fumble in her briefcase, finally holding up a pair
of latex gloves. Understanding flooded Grey's face and he swallowed
hard. After donning the gloves, Mulder pulled out a single sheet of
white paper and unfolded it very carefully. He gently lifted the heart
-- soft cotton fabric decorated with tiny pictures of Winnie the Pooh,
Eeyore, and Piglet. Mulder's gloved thumb reverently stroked the surface
before he moved it aside so that they could all see what had been
written on the paper. It was one sentence, composed of letters that had
been cut from newspapers and magazines and glued to form words. The
message was brief, but chilling.

*I'd come back if I were you.*


Continued in part 7

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (7 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1


Eagle Rock
Thursday
1:11 p.m.


Scully watched as Mulder paced the length of the kitchen, turned sharply
and repeated the movement in the opposite direction, cell phone pressed
tightly to his right ear. Skinner was doing most of the talking at this
point, Mulder only injecting soft grunts of acceptance and an occasional
sentence or two of clarification. Their boss was apparently handling him
very carefully, since Mulder had remained relatively calm and
reasonable. Still, she could see that his grip on the phone was
white-knuckled, his jerky, uneven gait at odds with his usually graceful
stride. She glanced across the table to see Grey watching his brother,
his brows drawn in concern. Grey felt her gaze and regarded her
questioningly.

"Think Skinner's going to let him come back?"

Scully pursed her lips, then smiled ruefully. "Since Mulder hasn't
resorted to screaming or profanity so far, I assume that the answer to
that question is yes."

Grey didn't return her smile, his frown only deepening so that he looked
even more troubled. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, though I know
Fox will be glad. I'm afraid all I can see is that he's going back into
the fire, and in no better shape than when you arrived here two days
ago. I'm worried about him, Dana."

Scully leaned across the table to lay her hand on his arm. "I know. I am
too. But it wouldn't be any different if Mulder were to stay here, Grey,
he would only continue to tear himself up wondering what was happening
back home. This monster knows enough about Mulder to realize that he
won't back down from a challenge."

Her eyes darkened, and Grey was startled to recognize fear in them.
"What? What are you thinking?"

She shrugged, but her face was still grave. "I guess that I'm going to
be relieved to have Mulder in a more controlled environment. This killer
has fixated on him, and I don't think anyone knows the full implications
of that."

Before Grey could comment, Mulder thrust the phone in Scully's face.
"Skinner wants to talk to you. I'm going to pack up our things."

Scully put the phone to her own ear, her eyes tracking Mulder as he
exited the kitchen. "Sir?"

"Scully, Mulder has filled me in on the ... suggestion he got from the
killer. I, in turn, informed him that we received instructions for
locating Samantha Thomas's body. I'll need you to do the autopsy as soon
as you get back."
 
"Yes, sir. I'd anticipated that."

Silence, broken by Skinner nervously clearing his throat.

"Sir?"

"I haven't told Mulder everything. I could sense the killer's note had
upset him badly, and I thought it best to give him a chance to calm
down."

Scully closed her eyes, a chill running up her spine. She was very sure
that she didn't want to hear whatever Skinner had to tell her.

"Go ahead, sir."

"Scully, the directions to Samantha's body contained a heart, and it
matches the clothing she was wearing. I can only assume that Mulder's
heart belongs to another victim."

Several choice swear words she'd learned during life on military bases
flitted through Scully's mind, but she chose to remain silent. Dread
writhed and churned in the pit of her stomach -- both for the child
sentenced to certain death and for Mulder, who would certainly find a
way to shoulder the responsibility.

"Scully?"

Skinner's voice was anxious, prompting a response.

"He's escalating," she said quietly. "From the warning he sent Mulder
I'd imagine it's calculated to bring him back onto the case."

"I agree." The words were spoken in a manner that told Scully her boss
was suffering from his own feelings of guilt. When he continued
speaking, however, his tone was tight with anger. "That's the *only*
reason I'm allowing Mulder to rejoin the team. I'm beginning to believe
Mulder is right; we aren't going to be able to catch this lunatic
without him. Just don't tell Mulder I said that," he added dryly.

"He's packing right now, so I'm sure we'll be on the road soon. I'm also
sure that he'll want to go straight to the office once we hit town,"
Scully predicted, wishing she'd gotten more sleep the night before.

"Report to my office then. I'll be here. Would you like me to break the
news?"

Scully thought it over, longing to let Skinner be the one to deal such a
blow. Unfortunately, she knew Mulder would never forgive her for
withholding the information during the drive home. He'd had trouble
enough accepting her involvement in removing him from the case, she
wasn't certain the trust between them could survive a second hit.

"No. I'll take care of it myself. Thank you for giving me some
advance-warning, sir. He won't take this well."

Skinner made a choked sound of amusement. "He never does, Scully. See
you soon."

Scully pushed the disconnect button and stared at the dead phone,
chewing her lip. She'd actually forgotten Grey's presence until he
spoke.

"Another child's been taken?"

She walked slowly over to replace the phone in its cradle, allowing
herself the extra moments to collect her thoughts and emotions. She
could feel Grey's steady gaze on her, following each movement and
cataloguing it. Finally she leaned back against the counter and tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear.

"That heart that Mulder just received did not belong to Samantha Thomas.
Skinner and the team already have that one, along with the location of
her body." She hated the cold, calculating sound of her voice even as
she realized that it was a defense mechanism.

"Who?"

"That hasn't been determined. I'm sure Skinner is working on it as we
speak."

"Working on what?"

Mulder's reappearance could not have had a more dramatic effect on
Scully if he'd jumped out and shouted "Boo!" She jerked and spun toward
the kitchen doorway, her right hand reflexively reaching for the small
of her back.

"Don't shoot me, copper, I surrender," Mulder said, both hands raised
and a smirk on his face.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Scully groaned, sinking back against
the cabinets.

Mulder raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry. Didn't
realize I was sneaking. Working on what?"

Leave it to Mulder to stay on target and not forget the original
question. From the corner of her eye Scully saw Grey quietly stand and
then squeeze by his brother to leave the kitchen. She fought the abrupt
sensation of disappointment and betrayal that washed over her. Realizing
that there was no way to pad the corners, she met her partner's eyes
squarely.

"Mulder, Skinner didn't tell you something important." Scully saw his
eyes narrow and his brow contract, and quickly raised a hand to
forestall any outburst. "Wait a minute! He's not trying to hold out on
you, he just didn't want to burden you with this right away. He was
giving you time to decompress."

"My patience for this overwhelming need you and Skinner have for
protecting me is starting to wear thin, Scully. I'm a big boy and I'd
appreciate it if you'd just give it to me straight."

The words were meant to be spoken in irritation, but Scully knew
Mulder well enough to recognize armor donned in anticipation of bad
news. She ignored his scowl and proceeded cautiously.

"Mulder, a heart was included with the instructions for locating
Samantha Thomas's body, and it matches her clothing."

She watched his expressive face as he processed the information and
quickly came to the heartbreaking conclusion. His pain transcended even
Mulder's substantial ability to feign detachment. Scully fought an
intense inner battle in a matter of seconds, instinctively wanting to
put her arms around him yet knowing how important it was for him to
maintain composure. Giving in to intuition, she crossed the room and
wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest but not
speaking.

After only a moment's hesitation, Mulder's arms came up and around her
shoulders. Tiny tremors coursed through his body so that it felt as if
he were shivering, and Scully could hear his heart thumping rapidly. Her
own fluttered in a sympathetic response and she ran her hands in
abstract patterns over the rigid muscles of his shoulders and back.

"Who *is* he, Scully?" Mulder whispered in a voice liquid with unshed
tears. "What does he want from me?"

"He's a maniac, love. He probably doesn't even know what he wants,"
Scully murmured, pulling back so that she could search his face.

Gratitude met her gaze, but it was coupled with disbelief. "I disagree.
I think he knows exactly what he wants, we just haven't figured it out
yet. That's what scares me."

"Mulder, promise me you'll try to keep your perspective. You can't get
sucked in too far or you'll drown."

Annoyance again, which Scully actually found an improvement over the
hurt. "I know my job, Scully. I only do what's necessary to get
results."

Scully reached up to cup his cheek, attempting to soften the harshness
of her next statement. "You say that, Mulder, and I know you believe it.
But you can't see yourself. Before Skinner pulled you off the case you
looked like you were going under for the third time."

Mulder's eyes were pleading. "He's escalating, Scully. And we both know
what triggered it." His voice broke and he took a deep breath before
continuing. "The only way I can live with myself right now is to put
everything I have into catching this guy."

Scully blinked at the moisture in her eyes. "I understand that, love, I
really do. But I'm selfish. I refuse to lose you in the process."

Grey chose that moment to slide around them and re-enter the kitchen. He
was carrying a duffel bag that he plopped down onto the tile before
folding his arms.

"I'm packed. Who's driving?"

Both Mulder and Scully were rendered speechless for several seconds
before Mulder gathered his wits to reply.

"Huh?"

Scully pressed her lips together to smother a grin. "I second that
somewhat less than eloquent response. What do you think you're doing?"

Grey rolled his eyes in a "well, duh!" look. "What does it look like?
I'm going back to D.C. with you. I've got the rest of the week off
anyway, and if I stay here I'll just wind up finishing that damn shed
all by myself."

Scully smiled, communicating appreciation, relief, and affection with
her eyes. Mulder, however, pulled away from her embrace, shaking his
head adamantly.

"No way, Grey, you can't do it. It's too risky."

Grey looked at him, his expression bland. "I'm not the one being stalked
by a killer, Fox," he said calmly. "You're the one at risk here, not
me."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" his brother growled,
frowning. "It's one thing to come up for a visit and hang around my
apartment, but this is completely different. You'd be in the middle of a
major investigation involving police and FBI, and swarming with the
press. There's no way to remain low profile."

Grey stubbornly thrust out his lip and Scully had to bite her own to
keep from laughing. Sometimes the similarities between the two brothers
were amazing.

"Fox, I thought I made it clear a long time ago that I don't intend to
let these faceless enemies of yours dictate my life. You are my brother,
and if I'm going to be a part of your life it's going to be on *my*
terms -- not theirs. I'm coming with you."

Mulder opened his mouth to argue, but found he didn't have the
motivation to do so. Though he feared for Grey's safety, the idea of
having his brother's support was extremely comforting.

"I get to drive," he said instead, his tone daring Grey to argue.

Grey just grinned and stooped to pick up his bag. "Whatever you say,
little brother. Just so I'm along for the ride."


Continued in part 8

Blood Ties IV: Shredded Hearts (8 of 16)
By Dawn
sunrise@avenew.com
Disclaimer in part 1


FBI Headquarters
Thursday
11:02 p.m.


Scully sighed and leaned heavily against the back of the elevator as it
rumbled slowly downward. Gritty eyes, a backache, and the clinging odor
of decomposing flesh all combined to make her desire to go home an
urgent one. Though she knew getting Mulder to leave would be a battle,
she was determined -- even if it meant fighting dirty and bringing
Skinner and Grey into the fray.

The doors rattled open and Scully walked slowly down the dim hallway,
one hand clutching her autopsy results while the other kneaded the flesh
at the small of her back. Damn autopsy tables were one size fits all,
and it wasn't her size.

The door to the X-Files office stood ajar and she paused, taking the
opportunity to observe Mulder undetected. His dark head bent low over
the contents of the desktop, which he studied with such complete
concentration that he was oblivious to her return. His jacket shed and
sleeves rolled to the elbows, Mulder's arms were propped on the open
surface directly in front of him. Scully saw that he held something
between his long, slender fingers, rubbing it gently. She moved closer
until heartache replaced her curiosity. Seven photos spread across the
blotter, one for each of the murdered girls, and the object he held with
the reverence of a talisman was the eighth heart.

Mulder caught her movements with his peripheral vision and raised his
head. The eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses could have belonged to a
90-year-old man. Scully brushed several of the photos aside and perched
on the edge of the desk.

"Autopsy's finished," she said unnecessarily.

Mulder nodded, waiting for her to continue. Scully flipped through the
papers in her hands, then tossed them onto the desk with a sigh.

"It's all the same, Mulder. Sexual assault, then strangulation. Exactly
like the other seven."

"And identical to Roche," Mulder added, declining to pick up the papers.

"Yes."

Mulder pulled off his glasses and scrubbed his eyes wearily with the
heels of his hands, then lay his head atop his folded arms.

"I lived through this twice already, Scully," he said, voice muffled but
the anguish still evident. "Why must I do it again?"

Scully's answer -- for there was no answer -- was to run her fingers
through his hair, the tips rubbing his scalp. Eventually his tension
eased a little and she sensed he'd regained full control.

"Where's Grey?" she asked, suddenly aware of the man's absence. She
glanced over to her own desk and saw the folder from the original Paper
Hearts case lying open.

"I sent him on a coffee run," Mulder replied, still muted.

"Mulder, it's late and you need sleep. The last thing you should ingest
right now is more caffeine."

Mulder lifted his head and regarded Scully ruefully. "That's exactly
what *he* said. You two must be comparing notes."

"Can't help it," she answered, ruffling his hair and standing. "You're
our favorite subject."

A glint of pleasure touched Mulder's eyes but disappeared all too
quickly. "Jacqueline Stombres," he said soberly, his gaze dropping back
to the row of little girl smiles, and his fingers tightening
convulsively around the heart.

Scully winced. "Location?"

"Norristown, Pennsylvania."

She frowned for a moment at the nagging familiarity of the name, then
bit her lip. "Addy Sparks. That was where she lived."

Mulder's face said it all -- no need to verbalize.

"Why didn't the police notify us sooner?"

"They didn't realize what they had at first. Jacqueline's parents are
going through a messy divorce, complete with custody battle. When she
turned up missing from her bed and they couldn't reach Dad, everyone
assumed he'd taken her. Next thing you know, Dad returns from a fishing
trip with his buddies only to be arrested by the cops staking out his
apartment."

"Meanwhile our boy has Jacqueline and a big head start," Scully finished
tiredly.

Mulder grimaced. "Guess custody won't be an issue now," he said darkly.

"Mulder..."

"What, Scully? Don't blame myself? It's not my fault? Is that what
you're going to tell me? Well, maybe on paper you're right. But right
here, " he jabbed his thumb savagely at his chest, "what's on paper
doesn't count. He's killing these little girls for *me,* Scully, and all
I've accomplished is to help dig up the bodies!"

"You've done everything you can, and more than anyone could ask," Scully
replied, walking around to massage the rigid muscles of his neck and
shoulders. "Mulder, no one knows better than I what this case has cost
you -- what it continues to cost you. You *will* find this guy, for
those little girls and for yourself."

Mulder dropped his chin to his chest, giving Scully better access to his
neck. "I appreciate your faith in me," he said softly. "But I don't know
if you realize how truly hopeless this is. Yes, we know his method of
victim selection -- all girls between the ages of 7 and 11, all taken
from their homes in the same cities that Roche preyed upon. Girls that
are sometimes chosen for their physical resemblance to Sam." He paused,
collecting himself before plunging ahead.

"But what *good* does it do? Even if we can predict which towns he's
likely to hit next, it's impossible to stake out the homes of every
child in the at-risk group. Bottom line, Scully -- unless this bastard
screws up, he could go on killing indefinitely."

Treading carefully now, afraid of increasing his already overdeveloped
sense of responsibility, Scully pressed forward. "Your profile...?"

Mulder's voice held only resignation and a soul-deep weariness. "I'm
trying. In many ways it's like profiling Roche all over again. But I
have to go deeper this time, Scully. And even though I'm horrified at
the thought of more dead children, that prospect scares me just as
much."

The office door swung wide open, halting Scully's reply before it could
leave her lips. Grey strode inside carrying a cardboard tray with four
cups of Barnie's coffee, Skinner on his heels.

"Got the good stuff," he announced, handing first Scully and then Mulder
a cup. "I was headed to the cafeteria when I ran into Walt and he showed
me the place across the street."

Mulder's eyebrows appeared to be crawling off his head. "*Walt*?"

Grey shrugged while Skinner just looked amused. "Hey, he's not *my*
boss."

"Forget it, Mulder," Skinner growled when he saw a smirk spread across
his agent's face. "Don't even start."

Mulder managed to look wounded. "Sir, the deep respect I hold for you
would prohibit me from taking advantage of this situation in any way..."

"Somebody hand him a shovel," Scully muttered, eliciting a delighted
grin from her partner and an eye roll from Skinner.

"Mulder, I came down because I was wondering if you planned on making
the drive to Norristown to examine the crime scene -- such as it is,"
Skinner asked, sinking into a chair. "I know you like to view them
firsthand, but this one has seen a lot of traffic. The local PD took the
assumption that the father was the kidnapper and ran with it, and their
preservation of the girl's bedroom was less than meticulous." Skinner's
furrowed brow and clenched jaw told exactly what he thought of the
Norristown PD.

"I still need to see it," Mulder insisted stubbornly. "I have to get the
feel of it, of what he was thinking. Do we have a photo yet?"

"They faxed it about an hour ago. I'll see you get a copy." Skinner's
gruff manner softened. "She's consistent with the previous victims."

Mulder ground his teeth together, pushing himself to his feet. "Who *is*
this guy?" he mused, more to himself than to the others. He paced the
small open space in front of his desk, coffee cup gripped in his right
hand and the heart still clasped in his left. "He says he admires me,
that he wants to give me a worthy adversary. Yet he takes girls who
resemble my sister, a choice that clearly speaks of revenge and
aggression toward me personally. He's watching the investigation closely
-- he knew when I left town and it obviously pissed him off. He wants my
complete and undivided attention. He's accepting nothing less."

Grey watched, disturbed and fascinated, as his brother's eyes lost focus
and his voice dropped all inflection. He glanced uneasily at Skinner and
Scully, but their concentration was riveted on Mulder, who had stopped
speaking but continued to roam restlessly around the room.

"Go on," Scully said quietly, her voice unobtrusive and deceptively mild
but her body stiff with strain.

"It's like there's a conflict within him," Mulder muttered. "Like he's
being driven by two conflicting motivations. I don't understand the
dichotomy, and I'm not sure how to proceed with the profile from two
opposing angles. What does he really want from me? My admiration, or my
anger? For me to appreciate his work, or for me to suffer because of
it?"

Mulder trailed off, an otherworldly expression on his face as he stared
blankly at the wall. Scully cleared her throat and he shook his head
dazedly, his gaze sharpening once more. He shot an embarrassed look in
the direction of Grey and Skinner, the look of a small boy caught
daydreaming during math class. Mulder tossed the heart onto the desktop
beside the pictures and sank back into his chair, taking several large
gulps of the coffee.

Seeing Scully wince, Grey leaned over. "Decaf," he said
conspiratorially.

Scully mustered a small grin. "Now if you could just get him out of
here..."

"Mulder, I want you three to go home," Skinner said firmly, studiously
avoiding Scully's gaze of gratitude. "Get some rest. There's nothing
more you can do tonight, and you'll think more clearly on some sleep.
Report to me after you've returned from Norristown and I'll update you
on the forensic results of the note and the heart." He scooped up the
baggie with the heart that Mulder had finally relinquished. "I'll put
this with the others."

True to form, Mulder refused to give up without a fight. "Sir, the
profile..."

"Will never be finished if you're too tired to think straight. Consider
it an order, Agent."

Mulder's shoulder's slumped, a sure sign he knew he was beaten. "Yes,
sir."

Skinner nodded slightly in acknowledgement and got to his feet, sending
Grey a knowing look on his way to the door. Scully and Mulder both
noticed the unspoken communication. She settled for a raised eyebrow, he
choosing to verbalize his thoughts.

"What was *that* little exchange?" he demanded, scowling.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Grey replied with
wide-eyed innocence. "Is it my turn to drive?"


Apartment 42
Friday
12:34 a.m.


Grey did drive, and Mulder fell asleep with his neck cranked at an
awkward angle and the side of his face pressed against the passenger
window. The night air crackled with just a hint of cooler weather, and
Grey drank in deep gulps of it while he waited for his brother to unlock
the exterior door to his apartment building, fumbling with hands still
clumsy from slumber.

They plodded into the elevator with all the grace and agility of three
geriatric patients, duffel bags in hand. When they doors rattled open on
Mulder's floor no one moved for a moment, then each launched himself (or
herself) off the wall that was currently sustaining them and plodded
down the hallway.

Scully propped herself against the doorframe while Mulder searched for
the correct key, but he froze before he could push it into the slot.

"Mulder?" Scully questioned, standing up straight.

He shushed her with a finger to his lips and leaned his head closer to
the wood until his ear rested just beneath the lopsided number two. The
silence in the hallway became palpable until Scully heard the cause of
Mulder's distress -- a low drone of voices from *inside* his apartment.
Mulder stealthily placed his hand on the knob and rotated his wrist.
Though he hadn't used his key, the knob turned freely.


Adrenaline replaced lethargy in the space between heartbeats. Almost
simultaneously, three duffel bags hit the floor and three weapons slid
from their holsters. Mulder nudged the door open and reached inside to
flick on the lights, training kicking in to control all movements. A
snap of the kitchen switch flooded the room with fluorescence, revealing
nothing, so they continued carefully onward.

The small lamp on the end table cast a dim glow on Mulder's living room.
He stalked forward, Sig held ready as his eyes rapidly scanned the room.
Scully, only a step behind, was unprepared when Mulder suddenly gasped
as if something had sucked all the air from his lungs and lurched
backward. His blind need to back up was so great that his legs tangled
together and he fell to his knees, nearly taking Scully with him. To her
dismay, he dropped his gun and buried his face in his hands, body
wracked with rough sobs.

"Nooo!" he moaned, the sound like the cry of a wounded animal caught in
a trap and unable to free itself. "Nonononono..."

Grey's own sharp intake of breath pulled Scully's gaze from Mulder and
she gaped at the tableau before her, face draining of color. Unable to
believe what her eyes showed her, she left her distraught partner
momentarily, creeping forward on legs made of rubber. Grey's hand
clutched her elbow and she could hear him panting like a steam engine in
her ear.

Mulder's television babbled cheerfully, Lucy arguing with Ricky about
whether she should perform in his latest show at the club. The coffee
table in front of the couch had been moved carefully to one side,
usurped by a board game with little red and blue pieces. Propped next to
the game with her back against the couch and a red playing piece clasped
in her stiffened hand, was the body of a little girl, her lips blue
against her chalk-white skin and a long mane of black hair cascading
down her shoulders. Scrawled in black magic marker on the wall behind
the couch, a message caught Scully's shocked gaze and she tore her eyes
from the pitiful figure.

YOU CAN'T QUIT *THIS* GAME. WELCOME BACK.


Continued in part 9