The Before Series by Emily Miller Title: Before:Dana's Gift Author: Emily Miller DISCLAIMER: All, even the rabbit, belong to Chris Carter. ARCHIVE: Anywhere, if you ask first. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: VA SUMMARY: Why the rabbit was in the lunchbox. Melissa locked eyes with her younger sister. Dana stared right back, refusing to give in as much as it hurt not to. Even when a single strand of hair fell from behind her ear and tickled her cheek so that the itch ached and her hands twitched and tried to reach to scratch it, she didn't move an inch. The seconds, then minutes, passed with such agonizing slowness that Dana was ready to scream. It had never lasted this long, never before. One of them would have to give in soon. "Don't tell me you two are doing that AGAIN," a voice said, entering the girls' bedroom- and breaking concentration. Both looked up without realizing it. "Bil-ly!" Melissa complained. "I was gonna win this time!" She and Dana lay on their stomachs on the carpet, latest competition for 'superior Scully' ended. "Don't even try to kid yourself, Missy," Bill said, trying his best to show off imaginary elder-brother wisdon. "Dana beats you every time." "I've been practicing," Melissa insisted. Dana, who'd been madly rubbing her fingernails over her cheek, finally managed to kill the itch and was able to breathe again- and speak. "Who said you could come in here, Bill?" "I did. There's no law that says I can't." "Mom and Dad," Melissa said, taking Dana's side. Even if all kinds of contests went on between them- like the staring contest that had just ended in a tie- they immediately bonded together against the most evil thing in their life- siblings. Actually, sibling, because Charles hadn't had a chance yet to get very bad. He wasn't even a year old. He just cried a lot. "Mom and Dad aren't the law," Bill countered. "They are here and they said you can't come in our room," Dana said. "Okay, that's fine. I won't tell you what Mom and Dana got you," he said, as though he was completly innocent. Dana wanted to ignore him- chances were he was lying- but she just couldn't. "What'd they get me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Don't listen to him, Dana. He's a liar. He probably just wants to get you downstairs so he can shoot you with that stupid BB gun Dad gave him." "It's not stupid. I'm getting one just like it next year," Dana said. "Girls shouldn't shoot, stupid. You'll probably kill something," Melissa said. "I could shoot Bill. He's a thing." "Hey, good idea! I'll tell Mom and Dad to make sure you get that gun." "Uh, Dana, are you coming or not?" Bill asked, interrupting the giggles of his sisters. God, he wished Charles was older. Girls were so DUMB. "I think you're lying," Melissa said. "You just think that because Mom and Dad didn't get you anything. They got you that fish last year and you killed it." "I didn't kill it!" "You didn't feed it!" "I did, too!" "Yeah, maybe once a month!" "Get out, Billy!" "Make me!" Melissa started to get up, ready to fight even though Bill was 5 years older, but Dana beat her to him. "Show me what Mom and Dad got me," she said, more to stop a fight than anything else. It would be better to get shot and get Bill in trouble than have Melissa and Bill fight and have Melissa grounded so they couldn't play together. "Yeah, go on, you traitor," Melissa muttered, slouching back to her bed. Dana ignored her, knowing she wouldn't stay mad long. She never did. "What'd they get me?" she asked Bill eagerly as she followed him downstairs and into the living room. "Can't tell. It's an early Christmas present." Her eyes lit up. Christmas present! And it was still NOVEMBER! "Where is it?" "They went to get it," he said, and that was all he would say. Dana thought she was going to explode by the time she finally saw her parents' car at the end of the block. She skidded in her sock-feet across the wooden floor and threw open the door, flying out, jumping the steps on the porch, and across the front yard to where her parents were just getting out of the car. "Mom! Dad!" she flew into her dad, who caught her and lifted her up. "Did Bill tell you what we got you, Starbuck? Or did he just tease?" "He TEASED, Daddy!" she was going to say more, get Bill in trouble, but was too excited. "What'd you get me?" "Maggie? Could you get it out?" Dana wiggled in her dad's arms as she watched her mom open the back door and lift out a shoebox... with holes punched in the top? "What is it?" Dana asked, struggling until her dad gave up and put her down. She ran to her mom. "What is it, Mommy?" "Calm down, Dana. It's not going anywhere. It's asleep." "Can I have it? Please?" Dana reached for the box, jumping up and down excitedly until her mom FINALLY handed it down. "Be careful. You don't want to hurt it." Dana was sure by then that it was something alive. She sat on the edge of the grass and carefully pulled the top off the box, peering inside even as she did. A tiny ball of gray woke up in the light, eyes wide and shiny, ears rising up to listen. Its nose twitched as it took a careful hop from one side of the box to the other. Dana couldn't speak. She caught her breath, looking at the little animal now rubbing its nose over the hand that held the box on her knees. She reached the other, trembling slightly, to stroke a line in the soft fur with he fingernail. "What is it?" she finally managed to whisper. She took her eyes off her new pet long enough to look up at her mom and dad. "A cat?" Her mom laughed. "No, Dana. It's a rabbit." "Oh, okay." Her eyes went back down to the... rabbit. "Hi," she said softly, in the same voice she used when talking to Charles. As she continued to slowly stroke the rabbit with a gentle finger, Melissa silently joined her on the ground. "What is it?" she asked. "A rabbit. Mom and Dad got it for me as an early Christmas present." Now it was Melissa's turn to look up at her parents. "Mo-om! Da-ad! You got me a stupid fish and you got her a RABBIT!?" "Maybe they like me more," Dana said, under her breath so no one heard it. Then, more loudly, she said, "Hey, Melissa, you can help me feed it and stuff. Come on, let's go find a place to put it. It can be both of ours." The two girls got up and left, walking very slowly so they wouldn't scare the rabbit. Behind them, their parents looked at each other and smiled. Dana could always be counted on for keeping peace. >>>>>>>> "What're you gonna name it?" Bill asked, leaping out at Dana and Melissa as they entered the house and almost making Dana drop the precious shoebox. Only Melissa reaching out a hand to grab it saved it from falling. "None of your business," she said. "Let's just ignore him," she said to Dana. "Yeah. He was being mean earlier, anyway," Dana said. They left Bill looking half-amused and half-angry, going upstairs to the room they shared and this time remembering to lock the door, even though they weren't supposed to. "Bill's stupid. He's not an 'it', he's a HE," Dana said as they sat on her bed, box between them. The second it quit bouncing from their walking, the rabbit went back to sleep, curled up in the corner, ears tucked down against a small back. "Well, he was right about naming it. We- YOU- have to decide on a name," Melissa said. She reached out and touched the rabbit for the first time, smiling as she did so. Its- HIS- fur was soft and long, gray with a little white mixed in. "I already know what I'm naming him." "How can you decide so fast?" "I don't know. I just can." "So what's his name?" "Fox," Dana said, nodding her head as she did as though very satisfied with her choice. "Fox? Why Fox?" "It's just... right..." she leaned a little closer to the box. "Fox! Hey Fox!" she whisper-cried. The rabbit woke immediately, kind-of-hopped, more like walked, over to the corner closest to Dana, and started digging with small, sharp claws and chewing with teeth, trying to get out and to Dana. "Toldja it was right." >>>>>>>> The whole house was asleep, but Dana couldn't. Her parents had insisted that she put her new pet in the garage, in an old bird cage until they got a real rabbit- home. She wasn't sure what rabbit homes were called, but she knew they had a name. She would have to ask Melissa tomorrow. But for then, she got up and tiptoed past her sleeping sister and out of the room, down the stairs and to the back door. She stretched as high as she could, standing on shaky toes, and just managed to reach the lock and turn it. She was out. The garage was like a room out of one of the horror movies Bill loved to watch. It smelled bad, so Dana breathed through her mouth as she groped for a light switch on the wall. She finally found it and pushed it up, breathing a small sigh of relief when light flooded the small space. Quickly closing the door before anyone still awake heard or saw anything, she then turned and walked to the corner where the bird cage sat. Her rabbit, awakened by the sudden light, was blinking his bright eyes at her as she opened the door of his new home. He hopped out and over to her leg, where he curled up to go to sleep. Dana giggled as she felt the soft nose tickling her leg. That nose hadn't stopped moving once since she'd first laid eyes on him. "Stop it, Fox," she whispered, even though she didn't really care if he did or not. She stroked him gently for a few minutes, until he was asleep and she was on her way. Her eyes were barely staying open when she had a wonderful idea. She was usually the first one up, not counting her dad when he was home, so why shouldn't she just take Fox back upstairs to sleep with her? She could take him back down when she got up, and no one would ever know. And she could clean up when he... after any messes he made. "Fox, you're gonna sleep with me tonight, okay?" she said, picking him up and cradling him against her arm. He didn't even wake up fully, just wiggled his nose a little more and kicked once as though not sure of this new position. She had only one problem getting him back to her room- getting the door open again, then closed and locked. She finally had to set Fox on the floor for a moment to get it locked, but he didn't go anywhere, much to her relief. She picked him up again and went on her way. She was crawling into bed, Fox resting on one edge of her pillow, when Bill appeared in the door. He looked half-asleep, his hair sticking up and his eyes only partially open. "Dana?" he said, voice sounding weird. She pretended to be asleep. "What're you doing?" She swallowed hard, considering trying a fake snore, but deciding that probably wouldn't work, just give her away. "I know you're not asleep. What were you doing downstairs?" Bill asked. "None of your business," she said, bringing her head up enough to glare at him- and hopefully hide Fox. Her movement, even so small, woke Fox up. He opened his eyes again, nose twitching, and did his normal hop-waddle over to Dana's arm, where he tried to curl up and go to sleep against. Dana bit her lip, watching him, knowing she was caught. "You brought that thing up HERE?" Bill said, eyes widening and mouth dropping open. She had asked earlier why that dumb animal couldn't sleep with her, but had only gotten a VERY firm 'no' from both parents- and she'd gone ahead and done it anyway. "So what?" Dana asked. "So WHAT!? Mom and Dad are going to kill you!" "Not if they don't find out." "But they're going to find out." "How?" She had a sinking suspiscion, but wanted to make sure. He grinned at her, that horrible, mean grin he used only on her. "I'm gonna tell them." "Bi-ill!" His grin only got wider, reminding her of that cat in the movie about the girl and the rabbit, the one Charles liked so much lately. "Fine, I'll hide it and you won't be able to find it and they won't have any proof I had it up here!" she said. "Sure, Dana. You do that." He didn't believe her. He raised his eyebrows for a moment and waved before leaving. For some reason, that wave made her all the more determined to hide Fox. And she knew just the place. In the basement, in Melissa's old lunchbox. No one would ever find it there. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Title: Before: : Always There Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: Andrew belongs to me. All others, they belong to Chris Carter. CLASSIFICATION: S RATING: G SUMMARY: In everybody's life, there's got to be one person they can always count on... My Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/8203/ It was July, 1969. 8 year old Fox Mulder had a million things to do- play baseball, go to movies, even build a fort in the woods with his best friend Andrew. For once, everything seemed to be going right for him... or most everything. Try as he might, he could never get up early enough to sneak out of the the house without being stopped by a cry of, "Fox!" It happened for the third time in a week that day, and still he couldn't ignore it. He turned, shaking his head, to once again send the little girl back to the house. She was too young to go on adventures, to get in trouble and have fun like he did. "Fox!" Samantha yelled again, as loud as her 3 year old lungs could, even though she stood now less than 10 feet from him and had quit running. She was already dressed, and he suspected she'd slept in her clothes so she could catch him easier. "Shh, Sam, it's only 7. People are still asleep!" He hissed, putting a hand over her mouth as she got close enough for him to grab her. She bit his hand and pulled away. "I wanna go with you! You never let me go!" "You can't go. I'm going too far for you and I'm doing things you can't." Hands went on hips. "What?" "STUFF, Sam. Go back INSIDE." "I WANT TO GO!" She was getting loud again, her voice rising with each syllable. "If you go back in now, I'll... I'll play with you tonight, okay?" "You promise?" She asked warily, remembering all the promises to her he'd broken before. "YES, Sam. Go inside." Giving him one more look, she spun and marched back to the house. He shook his head a second time before trotting over to get his bike, which he'd left on the front lawn when he'd come in the night before. Minutes later, he was heading down the mostly-empty street, riding as fast as he could and waving to all the cars that went back. It was summer and he was happy with the whole world. He and Andrew always met at the school, without ever saying it to each other. During the warmer spring days of the school year, when he could ride his bike to school, he managed to make the ride last 20 minutes. But without any reason to go slowly, he made it in less than 10. Andrew wasn't there yet, which meant he had to hide. It was a game they'd continued to play all summer- whoever got to the school first, hid. It took him a moment to find a spot neither of them had used yet- a recycled hiding place was no fun-, but he finally crouched inside the big pipes on the little kid playground. Then he waited, and waited, and waited for Andrew to decide to show up. His legs were beginning to hurt when he heard, "Fox! Fox, come out, I can't play today!" He wondered whether Andrew was kidding or not- he sounded truthful, but he also had a reputation as the best actor in the second grade. He could fool any teacher into believing him. And most other kids. "Fox! Seriously, come out!" Fox gave up. If it was a trick, he'd fallen for it. If it wasn't, then it didn't really matter. He crawled out of the pipe. "Andy!" He called as he tried to stretch his legs without hurting them. Andrew got up from where he was searching and jogged over. "I can't play today, Fox," he said. "Why not?" "I have to pack. We're moving to New York next week." "Your parents only told you a WEEK before you go?" Now Andrew's eyes were on the ground. And Fox knew the truth before he even said it. "...No... but I didn't want you to get all upset." "You could've TOLD me!" "I knew you'd be mad, too." "I wouldn't have been if you'd told me before!" "I have to go. My mom didn't even want me to come say good-bye." "Go then! Go to New York! I never liked you anyway!" Fox turned and ran to his bike, jerked it up from the grass, got on and rode away as fast as he could- before Andrew could see that he was already crying. Andrew had been the only one at school who understood him. All the others laughed at him when he felt sorry for substitute teachers, when he helped little kids who'd fallen, or when he talked to the new kid- the last of whom had been Andrew. Andrew had liked him from the start, he'd said, because there weren't many people around like him. They were both creative people- and creative was good. Together, adventures had been easy to come up with. They weren't alone. He jumped off his bike back at the house, not caring where it fell, and walked with his head down into the house. "Fox! Will you play with me now?" He heard Samantha ask, but ignored her. He didn't want her to hear his voice since he was crying. He went straight to his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he could cry alone. He almost wished his mom would come in to see what was wrong. But she wasn't the kind of mother to do that, like ones on TV. Or so he thought. Pretty soon, he heard the door open and he tried to cry harder- and louder- so she'd see how miserable he was. But he pretended not to have heard the door. Hours seemed to pass before anything else happened. He couldn't hear her come closer over his half-faked sobs. But he did feel the small hand on his shoulder. "Fox?" It wasn't his mother. It was Samantha. "Get OUT!" He yelled at her as loudly as he could. He turned his head up to glare at her, but it was almost impossible to even pretend anger. She was looking at him with worry and care and, now, terror on her face. Her eyes were big and her mouth was half-open. "But Fox..." "SAMANTHA GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" She left, running as fast as she could. He watched her go and felt even worse than before. He fell back onto the bed, weeping genuinely now, until he finally drifted off into the peaceful world of sleep, where the hurt was gone. ____________________________________________________________________________ __________ Samantha didn't stay gone long. She could hear him crying, but when he stopped, she ventured back out of her own room and down to his. The door was still open, and she walked in as quietly as she could, went over to his bed, and said softly, "Fox?" He was asleep, but still looked just as lonely as he had before. She very carefully climbed onto the bed with him and rubbed his hair tentatively, like her mom did hers sometimes. She almost wanted him to wake up. Which he did. "Samantha...?" He asked. "I'm sorry you're sad, Fox," she said. "Not your fault..." he was still mostly asleep. "What's wrong?" "Nothing... I wanna sleep now..." At least he wasn't mad at HER. She quietly slipped out of the room. ____________________________________________________________________________ __________ 'FOX! FOX!' SOMEONE WAS YELLING AT HIM, LOUDLY, SO LOUDLY HIS EARS HURT. HE COVERED THEM, BUT COULD STILL HEAR, JUST AS LOUDLY, 'FOX!' HE CURLED UP ON THE GROUND AND COVERED HIS HEAD WITH HIS HANDS TO MAKE THE YELLS GO AWAY. BUT STILL HE HEARD THEM. ALL AROUND, FROM THE DIRT BENEATH HIM TO THE BLUE SKY ABOVE HIM, ON ALL SIDES: 'FOX!' FINALLY HE LOOKED UP, JUST TO SEE WHO IT WAS. ANDREW. AND SAMANTHA. STANDING TOGETHER IN FRONT OF HIM. TOGETHER THEY SHOUTED AGAIN, 'FOX!' 'WHAT?' HE ASKED THIS TIME. 'YOU KNOW WHAT, FOX! YOU'RE NO FRIEND!' ANDREW SAID, STILL YELLING. 'YOU PROMISED TO PLAY WITH ME AND YOU WON'T, I KNOW IT!' SAMANTHA PUT IN. THEY SEEMED TO BE GROWING BIGGER, TOWERING OVER HIM AS HE LAY ON THE GROUND, TREMBLING. 'I'LL PLAY WITH YOU! I AM YOUR FRIEND! BOTH OF YOUR FRIENDS!' HE TRIED TO SHOUT, BUT IT CAME OUT A WHISPER. 'DON'T LIE, FOX! WE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING YOU THINK, DON'T LIE!' THEY SAID, AGAIN TOGETHER. AND THEY GREW, SO HIGH NOW HE COULD BARELY SEE THEIR HEADS. BUT HE COULD HEAR THEM AS WELL AS EVER. 'I'M SORRY I ACTED LIKE I DID! REALLY!' HE MANAGED TO RAISE HIS VOICE JUST A LITTLE, BUT STILL ENOUGH TO REACH THEM. 'PROVE IT!' THEY SHOUTED, AND IT ECHOED. 'PROVE IT... PROVE IT... PROVE IT...' ____________________________________________________________________________ __________ He awoke, curled up on the bed just like he'd been in the dream. It was close to noon now- he'd been asleep for hours. Samantha was watching him, a curious look on her face, from the chair at his small desk. "You were saying stuff, Fox," she said, and he very vaguely remembered her being there earlier. His dream was vivid, though. "I had a bad dream... wanna play something, Sam?" "You never play with me. I thought you didn't like me." "You're my little sister. I HAVE to like you. And I promised." "You promised to take me to get ice cream last week, too, on Saturday. But on Saturday you played with Andrew." "I DID promise that. How 'bout we play later, and go do that now?" She gave him a wide smile, jumped up and ran to the bed, then put her arms around his neck to hug him. "Stop, or I won't take you!" He said, pushing her quickly away. She laughed. "Get up! Hurry!" She pulled on his hand, still smiling. ____________________________________________________________________________ __________ Fox watched as she sat beside him on the edge of the sidewalk, trying to finish the chocolate ice cream before it completely melted. It was dripping down her face and onto her T-shirt- he was going to get killed for letting her do that- but she was grinning and talking around it. "And Mom says that some day she'll take us to that big bookstore they just built. She says that you like to read and that they have the best books in the whole world," she was saying, but he barely heard her. He had just realized something. No matter what had happened in his life, she had ALWAYS been there and, when capable, had tried to help. How many people in the world could be like that? There couldn't be many, but she was there. "You know, Sam," he remarked, and she shut up immediately to let him speak. "If I ever have a girlfriend or anything like that, you know, I hope she'll be there for me the way you are." "You're too ugly for a girlfriend." She gave him another big smile. "Hey!" But he smiled back. ____________________________________________________________________________ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Title: Before: Bicycles Author: Emily Miller DISCLAIMER: None of them are mine. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: S SUMMARY: A "what if Mulder and Scully ran into each other as kids" story. If you've read my other "what if", Best Friends (not archived at Gossamer currently), the events in this story are remembered by none of those X-People. "I wanna go with you guys!" 5 year old Dana Scully whined as she watched her 8 year old sister, Melissa, and 11 year old brother, William, throw towels, sunblock, and food into bags. Their new home was just a few miles from the ocean and a safe, roped off area of water where children often went to swim, since they could do so without nagging parents along. Bill and Missy were going there today, a warm, sunny day in mid- July. "I wanna go, too!" 3 year old Charles piped up, trying to pull the bag away from Bill as though that would change the older children's minds. "You're too little," Missy said scornfully. She always tried to act like she was older than she was, and it always drove Dana and Charles crazy. "We better let 'em go, Missy. If we don't, Mom might get mad and say NOBODY can go." Bill, as the oldest, felt he had to be the peacemaker. Plus, he LIKED his younger siblings, for reasons Missy couldn't figure out. They were the most annoying brats in the world, in her opinion. "Yea!!" Dana cried, which was unlike her. She usually didn't speak anymore loudly than necessary. "Yea!!" Charles cried with her, mainly because she did, but also because he liked noise. So Bill lifted Charles up on the handlebars of his old bike, and Missy did the same with Dana. All 4 knew it was forbidden, but what could happen? They were only going a little more than 2 miles! "Are there gonna be dolphins or sharks?" Dana asked cheerfully as she hung on for dear life while Missy weaved, trying to balance as they picked up speed while going down the slightly inclined street. "I hope so. Maybe they'll eat you!" Missy replied, and Bill laughed. He deliberately swerved sharply to the right, causing Charles to scream in mock terror. Dana looked at them, both laughing and enjoying the ride, then glanced back at Missy. She wished SHE could be riding with Bill. Missy was so mean sometimes. "I was asking BILL," She informed her sister, sticking out her tongue in typical 5 year old fashion. Missy just stuck her nose in the air as best she could without losing control of her bike. "Doubt it, Dana, but we might see some fish," Bill said quickly before a fight- even one only with words- broke out. "Do that curve thing again!" Charles yelled, and then laughed gleefully as Bill complied and swerved the bike again, this time to the left. Missy, watching them, suddenly felt a little guilty for how she had acted. "Want me to try that?" She asked Dana. Dana thought about it for a minute. "I'm not too heavy?" She finally asked. "I guess not..." Missy said, but she didn't sound very sure. All 4 rode for awhile in silence, until Dana spoke up. "Try it, Missy." So Missy picked up speed and jerked the bike to the left- too much. She felt it fall out from under her and she slid sideways on the road for a moment, not sure of what was happening. The bike had fallen not only to the side but also forward, and so just missed falling on her. But Dana, who had been trying as hard as she could to stay on, was thrown forward. "Dana!" Bill yelled, putting a foot down to stop himself. He lifted Charles off the handlebars as quickly as he could and ran to his younger sister. She lay on the hot, black road, unmoving though he could see no blood anywhere. "Dana!" He yelled again, not caring that she was right in front of him. She moaned softly, opening her eyes and looking up at him, then tried to get up, and he could see a long cut on her face, but nothing serious. Then she tried to put pressure on her left arm, the one she had landed on, and screamed like nothing he had ever heard before. Hearing this, Charles and Missy, who had only torn the skin on her ankle sliding across the ground, came running over. "Dana?" Charles asked, looking down at his sister, who was again lying on the road. Tears caused by the agony that had raced through her arm slowly ran down her bloody face. Bill took charge then. "Dana, I'm gonna pick you up very carefully and take you to that house across the street so we can call Mom," he said. "It hurts... my arm hurts, don't touch it, Bill, please!" She pleaded, trying to curl up as though that would keep him away and wincing as pain once again seemed to be all she could feel. Hard as it was, he ignored her pleading and gently put one hand under her neck and one under her knees and lifted her, very slowly. She clutched the broken arm to her chest, sobbing now with both fear and agony. Charles, watching worriedly, grabbed Missy's hand as Dana cried. For once, Missy didn't even consider jerking it away from him. Bill walked carefully across the street to the house he'd pointed out the Dana, not that she had seen looked. It was a nice house, smaller than theirs, but still fairly large. He hoped somebody nice lived there as he leaned over to knock. Seconds later, a small face appeared at a window next to the door, just before it cautiously opened. "Hi," The little girl said shyly. She looked about Dana's age, maybe a little younger. "Hi," Bill said. "I'm Bill Mulder. My sister Dana hurt her arm really bad, can we use your phone?" Before the girl could reply, an older boy appeared. "You're not supposed to talk to strangers, Sam," He said, glaring at Bill and Dana, who's cries had quieted considerably. "But it's just a couple of kids," The girl, Sam, argued. "I told you to let ME answer the door," The boy replied, jerking her away. She kicked him on the back of the leg before running off. "Can we use your phone?" Bill repeated, considering walking over to the neighbors. By now, Missy and Charles had joined them on the doorstep, and were both watching Dana. Charles' face showed a concern not many 3 year olds could show. "What for?" The boy asked suspiciously, but he was already opening the door wider to let them all in. "My sister hurt her arm," Bill said for the second time, and the boy seemed to notice for the first time the blood that was now clotting on her cheek. "The phone's in here." He lead them to a living room, and Bill put Dana on a sofa as gently as he could before calling home. As he explained to his mother what had happened and tried to assure her that Dana wasn't in a life- threatening condition, he watched her and the boy, who had come to sit by her feet at the end of the sofa. "What's your name?" He asked, and for a minute Bill wondered just how young this boy thought she was, then realized he was trying to get her mind off her arm. "Dana Katherine Scully. I'm 5 years old," She replied, looking up and over at him. "Hi, Dana Katherine Scully," He said, and she giggled. "I'm Fox." "Fox!" She cried. "That's the stupidest name I've ever heard!" Bill, hanging up the phone after their mother promised she would be right there, quickly said," Dana, don't say things like that!" hoping to keep the boy- Fox- from getting mad and kicking them all out. But he didn't seem to mind. "I agree, Dana Katherine Scully." She laughed now, seeming to have forgotten all about her arm and face. Then she looked serious again. "Hey, Bill, where're Missy and Charles?" Bill realized he didn't know. They had followed him inside, then just disappeared. "Uh- oh," he muttered, leaving the room to go look for them. They weren't in any of the downstairs rooms, and they weren't in the upstairs master bedroom. That only left one room that he could see, unless they'd left the house. But, as he got closer to the almost- shut door, he could hear voices and occasional laughing. He pushed open the door to find Missy, Charles, and the other girl, Sam, stretched out on the carpet, reading comic books. Sam and Missy never looked up, Charles glanced at him and said," Hey, Bill." Bill just stood there, watching them, until he heard the door open and heard his mother crying, "Oh, Dana!"> 'C'mon, we've gotta go," He said to Missy and Charles. They reluctantly got up and put the comic books back on one of the twin beds. "Bye, Sam," Missy said, and the little girl waved as they left. She looked sorry to see them leave. Downstairs, Margaret Scully was holding Dana, who was crying again at being moved. Fox was watching her, worried. But he didn't say anything except a half-hearted, "See ya, Dana Katherine Scully," as they left. The drive to the emergency room was long and hot for Dana. She wished she could have just stayed at that house, it made her feel better to laugh than to listen to her mother alternately yell at them for doing something they weren't supposed to and for talking to strangers and then asking Dana if she was sure she was okay. She was, if a little uncomfortable, trying to position her arm so that it didn't bump against the door. She wished they could just go ahead and get a cast on it and go home. Shifting again in her seat, she sighed, feeling more miserable than she ever had before in her whole life. ~*~ A week later, she was still miserable. Bill, Missy, and Charles were at the ocean- this time their mom had driven them- while she was stuck at home flipping through channels on the television. Not surprisingly, there was nothing on to interest a 5 year old. Just as she was seriously considering the most boring thing she could Think of to pass time, a nap, there was a knock on the door. "Dana, could you please go see who that is?" Her mom called from the kitchen where she was busy making dinner, even though it was only just after lunch. "Okay," She called back, glad for something to do. She hopped up from her dad's favorite chair, also HER favorite, and went to open the door. A man stood there, holding a small package with colorful balloons attached. "Ms. Dana Katherine Scully?" He asked. "That's me," She said. He handed her the package and left quickly. She glanced down at the treasure she now held- something for her and it wasn't Christmas OR her birthday. Not even Halloween! "Mom, guess what!" She cried, managing to balance the box and balloons in her mostly- covered hand while closing the door. She ran into the kitchen and showed them to her mom. "Look what I got!" Her mother looked at her for a second, then asked, "Who's it from." "Dunno," Dana replied. "You look." She handed her mom the package after pulling the balloons free and gripping them tightly in her good hand. "Fox and Sam Mulder... Who're they?" Her eyes widened and she laughed happily. "My friends." She didn't say anything else, just took the box again and ran back into the living room. She let the balloons go and they floated to the ceiling- Bill would get them down for her- and ripped off the yucky flowery wrapping paper. She jerked the top off the white cardboard box and pulled out a note written in sloppy boy's print. She couldn't read very well yet, but managed to sound out most of the words and could guess at the meanings of others. DANA KATHERINE SCULLY- SAM SAYS YOU WON'T LIKE WHAT WE GOT FOR YOU, BUT I SAY YOU WILL. YOU DON'T SEEM LIKE THE KIND OF GIRL WHO LIKES DOLLS AND DUMB STUFF LIKE THAT. BUT IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, GIVE IT BACK AND I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING ELSE. FOX WILLIAM MULDER She looked in the box then and saw what they had gotten her. A plastic pair of handcuffs, a plastic badge that said "FBI" on it, and a plastic gun of some kind. She grinned, pinning the badge to her t-shirt and pointing the gun experimentally at the television screen. Wait until Bill and Charles saw what she had! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: The Dark Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: ... SPOILERS: None CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: After the sun goes down... The house was big and old. Old enough that people had probably died there, people who had been murdered and wanted revenge! She was sure of it, but it was neat, during the day at least. She was drawing a picture of the person who had, maybe, died in her very room. "Dana, that's gross," 8 year old Missy remarked as she leaned over her younger sister's shoulder to look. Dana covered her picture with her arms, knocking the crayons she had been using off the table. Everyone of them exited their box. "Pick them up," she ordered, since it WAS Missy's fault. "No," was the reply, and she walked out of the room. Dana stuck out her tongue before sliding off the chair and getting on her knees to shove the crayons back in the box. Her picture wasn't really gross, she assured herself as she looked at it again. What was so gross about a guy lying on the floor with blood all over the place? She COULD have had his eyes clawed out or his stomach ripped open, like it talked about in Bill's books that she wasn't supposed to be reading. Charles reassured her even more. "Wow," He said when he climbed up on the chair beside her and looked at the drawing. This time, she didn't cover it up. "It's the guy that died in my room," She explained. "Did somebody die in MY room?" He wanted to know. She shrugged. "Maybe. I'll draw him tomorrow, okay?" "I'll draw him," he replied, and pulled a sheet of paper from under the one she was working on. He pulled the box of crayons so that they were between them and pulled out the blue one. "This is what color the walls used to be," He said to himself. They drew mostly in silence, every once in awhile leaning over to see the others, until their mother called, "Charles! Dana! Bedtime!" Dana looked out the window then and notice for the first time that it had gotten dark. She looked at her picture again, at the window in the corner of it- you could see stars and a big yellow moon outside-, and shivered. Charles didn't seem to care that they'd been drawing dead people right before night came. "How come Bill an' Missy don' hafta go ta bed?" He asked as he jumped off the chair and ran up stairs to his room, where his mother was waiting. Dana was quick to follow him, because she didn't want to be left all alone. The upstairs hall light wasn't on, and she wasn't going to be the one gotten while searching for it. She ran down the hall and into Charles' room, where he, her mother, and Bill were sitting. No telling where Missy was. "What's wrong, Dana?" Asked her mother, noticing Dana glancing behind her to see that nothing had followed her. "Nothing," She said quickly. "Hey, Bill, wanna come see what I put on my wall today?" She HAD put up a new poster, one of his old ones, but she really wanted him to go so that she didn't have to go back out into the dark and then go into MORE dark in her room. "Sure," Bill agreed, and she was sure he knew why she wanted him to, but also understood why she was afraid. It was the first time she could ever remember having a room to herself in all of her 6 years, and she actually wished she was still sharing it with Missy, even if now she didn't have to listen to her older sister's stupid music all the time. He held her hand comfortingly as they went into the dark hall and found the light switch and flipped the light on for her in her room. "Mom'll be in here in just a few minutes to turn out the light," He assured her, and smiled before leaving. She knew she was supposed to go ahead and turn out the lights and get into bed, but just couldn't make her feet move in the direction she needed them to- back to the door and the switch. Instead, they took her where she really WANTED them to, to her bed that was the only safe place in the entire room. She climbed on the bed, but just sat there after that, waiting for her mother. She wished her dad was going to be home before tomorrow. Then he could read her another chapter from Moby Dick and she wouldn't be scared. They were at the good part, too, when Ishmael and Queequeg first got on the Pequod. She tried to remember everything they had read so far and pretend her dad was there reading it to her... "Dana? Aren't you supposed to be going to sleep?" The voice of her mother jerked her away from her pretending and she was again in the big old house where people had died, maybe. "I was waiting for you," She said. "Do you want me to turn out the light?" No, she didn't. But she had to turn it out, because if she didn't everybody would know she was scared of the dark. "Okay." "Goodnight, Dana." "'Night," She tried to keep her voice normal as she was suddenly in a world of black nothingness. If a ghost came now, what could she do? She wouldn't even be able to see it! She heard her mother leaving and hugged her pillow, wishing again that Missy was with her, complaining that she shouldn't have to go to bed at the same time as the babies, why should SHE have to share a room with someone whose bedtime was 9 o'clock? But Missy wasn't there. She was alone. "C-Call me Ishmael," She whispered into the dark, not really knowing why. Her talking would probably just help the ghosts know where she was. WERE there really ghosts? If there were, she could imagine them- they would a million times worse than the man in her picture. Their skin would be falling off, because they'd been dead so long. They would have no eyes, just holes of blackness like her room. Their mouths would have vampire teeth... fangs that would be glowing in the night so she could see them coming down for her. It would be wearing black, but she would still be able to see it. What skin it had would be a strange color and she would be able to see through it. It was there, coming closer, closer, nearer and nearer and nearer. It was reaching with a bony hand for her, its mouth was open, it was going to get her, it was there- And she gasped, her eyes flying open and her feet taking her to the light switch without her ever knowing she was up. She turned on the light and leaped back to the bed. And she lay there, shivering and trying not to blink just in case it could get her even now. After all, if she was the only one awake, who was there to tell her it wasn't going to come for her? Only adults could say it wasn't there and make it so. Or maybe not. "You're not there. There are no ghosts in this house 'cause ghosts aren't real!" She whispered, forcing her voice not to shake. Then she heard it. A low moaning noise, coming from in the hall! "Not real, not real, not real!" She informed whatever was there. The sound just got louder, and she knew that the ghost was here. She curled up in the smallest ball she could on the bed, closing her eyes so tightly they ached and putting her hands over her head. "Iiiii Aaaaaammmmmmm Rrrrreeeeeeaaaallllll," She heard the ghost say... and then heard it begin to giggle. She slowly uncurled, then sat up and tried to stop trembling. "Whhhooooo," Missy said, and leaped into the room. She almost fell to the floor laughing when she saw Dana. Dana didn't think it was very funny. "Go away," she said. "If I do, who's gonna protect you from the ggghhhooossstttsss," Missy asked, drawing out the word 'ghost' and again giggling at herself. "There are not any ghosts." Dana crossed her arms and glared at her sister. Missy didn't seem to care. "If there aren't, then why were you telling Charles there were?" She wanted to know. "I was just kidding. There aren't any, really." "Then what were you so scared of?" "I WASN'T scared." "You sure sounded scared." "Get out of my room!" She wasn't yelling, just talking as loudly as she dared without worrying about her mother coming upstairs and catching her still awake. "Whatever," Missy said with a shrug, and walked out- turning off the lights. Taking a deep breath, Dana forced herself to act as though she didn't care, even if she did. Seconds later, Missy was back- with a book. She had a place in it marked with her finger, and turned on the light long enough to read it. Dana recognized it immediately- and hated Missy for using it against her. "At last, when the ship grew near to the outskirts, as it were, of the equatorial fishing-ground," she read, "and in the deep darkness that goes before the dawn, was sailing by a cluster of rocky islets, the watch- then headed by Flask- was startled by a cry so plaintively wild and unearthly- like half-articulated wailings of the ghosts of all Herod's murdered Innocents- that one and all, they started from their reveries, and for the space of some moments stood, or sat, or leaned all transfixed by listening, like the carved Roman slave, while that wild cry remained within hearing." "Get OUT!" She did, but not before again turning out the lights. Dana again curled up on the bed, but now she was crying and clutching her pillow as if that could keep the ghosts away from her. She HATED Missy, why did they even have to be related? Missy was so MEAN. She tried to comfort herself. "It wasn't really ghosts in the book," She told herself out loud but softly. "It was seals. It was, they SAID. And Daddy told me that it's just a book and its not real." But now the scary parts of the book were easy to remember. She wished she could close the eyes in her head and not see THEM, like she could close her real eyes. "And Queequeg only got in the coffin because he THOUGHT he was gonna die. He didn't really, and so HE wasn't a ghost..." And then the part she hated more than anything in the whole world came to her- the part where Fedallah died and was looking at Ahab. When her dad had first read her that part, he had been right there to assure her that it was just a story. But he wasn't here now. She was on her own. "Dana? You asleep?" Bill's voice scared her, and she jumped and almost screamed again. But she managed to stop it. "Yes," She said. She didn't bother to keep her voice normal. Bill would understand. "Mom says she heard you yelling at Missy. She says to go to sleep, it's late." "But Missy-" "I'M not going to get in trouble, too... 'night, Dana." She didn't answer. Everybody in her family had turned against her- except her dad, and he was gone. She cried harder this time, into her pillow so Missy, across the hall, wouldn't hear her. She must have been there a whole hour- but it seemed like a lot longer. Maybe it HAD been a lot longer. Maybe she'd gone to sleep and just didn't remember it. Maybe it was morning. She wanted to get up and check, to see if her mother was in the kitchen and if Charles was already outside in the dirt with his toy trucks. But one glance at the window told her that it was still night. She could see the moon, large and yellow, and a few stars outside. Just like in her picture. Her picture was coming true! Except that in the picture, there hadn't actually been a ghost. Just somebody who had been murdered. She was going to be murdered! And now she could hear it. Footsteps, coming up the stairs. The man was coming to kill her. He was like the ones on TV, wearing a mask so if anybody woke up and saw him, they wouldn't be able to recognize him later. He had a gun AND a knife, just to make sure that when he killed her she was really dead. He was there... at the door to her room... she knew it, she was completely sure... She screamed. And the light came on. And she saw him. "Ahab!" He was back early! She was safe! He came to her bed and pulled her close to him, making everything okay again. Only seconds passed before the rest of her family appeared in the doorway- her mother worried, Bill and Missy excited that something was happening, and Charles confused and sleepy. "Dana? Are you okay?" Her mother asked. "Yeah, I'm fine," She said. It was true, everything was great. "Why aren't you asleep?" "I couldn't go to sleep." "Everything's okay, Maggie," Her dad assured. "GO back to bed. I'm just going to stay with Dana long enough to make sure she can get to sleep." And the others disappeared. Dana leaned against her dad. "I thought you weren't coming home 'til tomorrow," She said. "I needed to see my Starbuck," He replied. "Will you read me another chapter?" She asked. "Will it help you go to sleep?" She could tell him the truth. "I couldn't go to sleep because I was scared of the dark. And you weren't here to protect me." "Sure, I'll read to you," He said in reply, and went to get the book from where Missy had left it. He got back, again joined her on the bed, and opened the book. "In bed we concocted our plans for the morrow. But to my surprise and no small concern, Queequeg now gave me to understand, that he had been diligently consulting Yojo- the name of his black little god- and Yojo had told him two or three times over, and strongly insisted upon it everyway, that instead of our of our going together among the whaling-fleet in harbor, and in concert selecting our craft; instead of this, I say, Yojo earnestly enjoined that the selection of the ship should rest wholly with me, inasmuch as much as Yojo purposed befriending us; and in order to do so, had already pitched upon a vessel, which, if left to myself, I, Ishmael, should infallibly light upon, for all the world as though it had turned out by chance; and in that vessel I must immediately ship myself, for the present irrespective of Queequeg..." Dana was already asleep, and her dad quietly closed the book and left, turning out the lights. And for the rest of the night, she dreamed of sailing, with her father as the captain and herself his first mate and only friend. There were whales and predictions and wails from islands- but it was okay, because her Ahab was always there to protect her. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Title: Before: Moving Day Author: Emily Miller Archive anywhere, do whatever with it. DISCLAIMER: They ain't mine and never will be. They belong to Chris Carter SPOILERS: none RATING: G CLASSIFICATION: V SUMMARY: An 8 year old Dana Scully thinks while getting ready to move- again. NOTE: This is really part of an series I'm trying, but the only other one written ("Bicycles") has nothing to do with this. I never had a problem with moving before. I've been doing it all my life- once or twice a year, we'll all pack up everything and move across the country. It was always fun, a new house that Mom always let me and Bill and Missy and Charles help her pick out- only once did she have to do that alone, and that was because we had to leave the next week-, a new school and teachers, and, best of all, new places to explore around town. But lately, I realize I'm growing up. I mean, I'm 8 years old, that's practically a TEENAGER. I'm over halfway to driving age in some states. And, being older and smarter than I was, I also realize that not all families live like us. Most people stay in one place for years and years, if not their whole lives, why not me? I never wondered before why, at most schools, kids would have little groups of friends they'd known all their lives. Or why I was always outside those groups. Now I know- it's because we're... because I'M different. They know I'm only gonna be there a little while, maybe even only a few weeks. Right now, I'm standing in the doorway to the room I shared with Missy for the 3 months we've lived here. I'm supposed to be getting my "car stuff"- things to do during the long drive, since we can't afford plane tickets for all of us- together. If I don't, will we stay. Does my junk really matter to anybody but me? If I died, or something, would somebody else like my things as much as me? Charles, maybe? Probably not. Mom would probably give it away to some poor kid that doesn't even have any shoes. That bothers me, even though I know it shouldn't- why should some other kid get to mess up my toys and books and... and just stuff that means something special to ME. Maybe I like it all so much because it likes me back, kinda. It doesn't tell me I'm stupid or stuck up like the kids I go to school with. It lets me do what I want with it. Kind of like a friend, but not really. Some of it I should really get rid of, I'm too old for it. Everything except my good stuff that I got last Christmas, because that's older kid stuff. That rest of it I should give to Charles. Charles can always make friends, because he's nice to everybody. He soesn't care WHAT people think about him or his family or ANYTHING. So I have to watch him bring home friends from school, or go get him at the house next door or across the street. It's not fair. Why should he get things that I want more? Missy usually makes friends too, but that's because all teenagers can. She's almost 12, so she's really a teenager, or at least that's what she tells me. And girl teenagers like 2 things, in my opinion- boys and makeup. No, 3 things. They like hair too. Some girls- MOST girls- my age like that stuff, too, or say they do. Maybe that's why I don't make friends, cause I sure don't. I like stuff like Bill and Charles like. Bill is more like me when it comes to making friends. Even though he usually manages to make a few, he has a hard time doing it, like me. But he's a really nice person, and seems to be able to talk real easily to people he's never met. I can't, I guess I'm a little shy, maybe. Or maybe I'm just scared. Scared I'll be rejected- good word, as my old teacher would say- anyway. Because I have my own ideas about things and can't help telling them. I'll argue my head off if somebody disagrees with either what I think or what I know. Once, I argued with a teacher and got a note sent home from school. Mom wasn't very happy with me then. One day maybe I'll make friends. If I just had ONE, I wouldn't care if the rest of this world hated me. Just one really good friend. A boy, I'd prefer, because he wouldn't talk about all that junk that Missy and her friends do. Maybe when I grow up... "Dana! Mom says hurry up!" At least that gives me something to look forward to... and FOR. As soon as I'm a grownup, I'll start looking for that boy who'll be my friend. We'll never get married or anything, that's yucky stuff, we'll just spend most of our time together. Maybe moving around is good. It means there are more places to look for him. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Protecting Sam Author: Emily Miller Archive anywhere, do whatever with it. DISCLAIMER: They ain't mine and never will be. They belong to Chris Carter SPOILERS: Demons (I think that's all) RATING: G CLASSIFICATION: S SUMMARY: Samantha's last birthday. NOTE: I KNOW the thing with CSM and all happened in Rhode Island, but I'm changing it to fit in with my story. He had always known, somewhere, that his little sister trusted him more than anybody else in the whole world. Definitely more than their parents, who had in the past few months, or maybe now it was years, been having problems, arguing and letting strange men come into the house. But just lately it had gotten worse, obviously worse, and 12 year old Fox Mulder knew that they were facing divorce. He hated them, not only for arguing with each other, sometimes yelling with him right there, but mostly for scaring Sam. He protected her the best that he could, but he WAS only 12. That meant that, when the screaming and throwing things got really bad, he couldn't take her away from the house that now seemed cramped and suffocating. He did his best, though. Did his best, and made sure that, when her 8th birthday was coming up, he planned something special. A trip to a nearby creek, just the 2 of them. No parents or friends. Just the kids. Everything was ready a week early, and so he had almost 7 days to wonder WHY he was doing this. He had never done it before and, even though he and Sam got along well, usually, he wasn't the type to plan something like that for her. That was a parent job. Something felt different this year. He had an urge, a desire, maybe, to stay close to her, not let anybody bother her. Like he could see the future and knew that things were going to change for the worst. Never did he imagine it would happen to her, not him. If something DID happen, he had just assumed that it would be to him. But that was still in the future. After a couple of days, he decided to quit thinking "why" and just do what he wanted to do. And that was give her a special day when there was no shouting or strangers or fear. But the day before her birthday, the man came again. The worst of all the ones that came to his house, talked to his parents and sometimes even to him and Sam. It wasn't really the day before, it was the night before. He was asleep when it happened, with his sister in the bedroom they shared. It had bothered him before to have to sleep with her, but now he felt more protective. Being together at the time he thought was most dangerous- midnight- assured him that he could protect her at all times. "Fox, wake up!" He heard her pleas for him before he actually woke enough to understand them. "Fox!" It had taken him hours, or what felt like hours, to fall asleep. He didn't want to get up, and tried to ignore her as long as he could. "Fox! Wake up!" He finally realized what she was saying, what she wanted, and then was up so fast that he skidded on the floor trying to reach her and almost fell. The boards creaked slightly as his weight shifted and he tried to regain his balance. "Shhhh," She warned, pointing downstairs. Their room was at an odd angle with the rest of the house, almost like half a room within the living room. It had a built-in ladder leading up to it, and no fourth wall, so they could see all that happened down there. He glanced at his watch, squinting to read it in the dark. It was almost midnight, a time he hated more than any other in the world. Then he crept over to where she kneeled, careful not to make any more noise. She didn't say anything, just smiled a little at him. He wanted to make her go back to bed and to make her life like other kids' lives. Not a scary one, like she currently lived in. She trusted him with everything, thought he would actually make it all right again just by being there. He wasn't going to tell her otherwise, make her cry and get them both in trouble. She pointed again downstairs, at the open door leading to their parents room. He could faintly hear them in there, arguing in the way he hated, because it was all yelling. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but Sam leaned close and whispered, "They were fighting out here before. Over us, I think. That man was here." "What man?" He asked softly, although he had a pretty good idea. And was right. "The smoking one, that Daddy works with." "Is he still here?" "I don't know... I'm scared, Fox." Her voice was rising now, like it always did right before she started crying. Before this year, she had almost never cried, but when their mom and dad started all the crap that made them so scared all the time, she had turned into a regular fountain at times. Sometimes it made him mad at HER, but tonight it made him mad at THEM- all the horrible grown-ups in the world that were ruining their lives. Their parents, the people their dad worked with, everybody. "Stay here, I'll go see what's happening." He hoped his voice wasn't shaking the way it sometimes did when he got nervous. "I'm scared, Fox..." She repeated, mumbling now, as he carefully got up. The floor creaked once, and he froze, but nobody appeared to yell at them for being up, and so he continued down the ladder and slowly, cautiously, across the living room carpet. His mom and dad were having the worst fight he had ever seen them having, shouting and stomping around. His mom was crying and he wanted to run in and have her try to convince him it was alright. At least then he and Sam could get some sleep, even if he didn't feel that it was really "alright." "I won't let him, I won't!" His mom was yelling, around tears. She clutched at her husband for a second before he jerked away. 'I can't CONTROL this, I've told you!" He was pacing around the room, kicking things whenever he felt they were in his way, whether it be the bed or her. "Please, Bill, please, don't let them take my daughter! PLEASE!" "Dammit, I CAN'T STOP THEM!" "Not Sam. You said it wasn't going to happen, that you'd fixed things! They can't have Samantha!" Who? Who couldn't have Samantha? Before he could stop himself, Fox heard himself utter a small cry of disbelief. Even over all the shouting and crashes of things being kicked or thrown, his dad heard him, and they looked each other in the eye for a second before the door was slammed shut. "You're a little spy," the voice came from a corner of the room, and he whirled to face whoever was there. That man, the one who smoked. Even now a cigarette hung from his mouth, and Fox felt sick. He hated the smell of those, the way they looked, everything about them. "What's gonna happen to my sister?" He asked, feeling brave suddenly, as though hate gave him courage. "That's not for you to know, right now," The man said, blowing the smoke that made their house smell for weeks. Staring at Fox a moment longer, he then turned, opened the door, and walked out of the house. Fox wanted to yell something at him, to curse him with the words he heard in the locker room at school for all he was worth. But that would scare Sam, and she was more important to him than getting rid of anger. Taking a deep breath and glancing once at the closed door of his parents' room, he then ran over and climbed the ladder back up to their little room as fast as he could. "What's going on, Fox?" Sam asked immediately, her eyes worried... no, terrified. He couldn't tell her. It would be too much for her. "Nothin', they're just fighting again." "Oh..." There was silence for a few seconds, and he saw that she really didn't look reassured. She needed something to make her forget what was happening to make their lives miserable. He again looked at his watch. 12:18, November 21. "Hey, Sam," He said, aloud now, and doubting that anybody would hear. "What?" "Happy birthday." She grabbed his wrist to look at the watch, then smiled, a real smile. She loved birthdays, always had, but she loved her own more than any others. But the smile faded all too quickly. "Mom and Daddy probably don't remember." "Maybe not." He leaned over and pulled the carefully wrapped package from under his bed. "But I did." Her face truly lit up then, and she did what was almost the unthinkable. She kissed his cheek, just a ''thank you" gesture, but one that made him freeze just the same. Kissing wasn't something his family did. He thought about playfully wiping off his face, unsure of what to do, but decided that might ruin everything and remind her what the word "family" now meant to them. So instead he silently watched as she ripped the paper off her gift. "Thanks, Fox," She said, looking at it curiously. "You're welcome. Like it?" "What is it?" She finally stopped staring at the box to glance at him, waiting for an answer. He desperately hoped she'd like it. It would be something they could do when they were alone in the house while their parents went to parties or a restaurant or while their dad was at work and their mom was in a bad mood like she seemed to frequently be in these days. "It's a board game, it's called Stratego. I'll teach you to play tomorrow, if you want." "Thanks, Fox," She said again, then carefully put the box at the foot of her bed before crawling back under blankets and soon falling asleep. He watched her for a long time, long after the yells from his parents had faded and he felt safe again, somewhat. Something bad was going to happen in time, he was sure of it. But, if he was careful, maybe that time would be far into the future. Until then, he would protect Sam with everything he could. Feeling almost good, at least tired, he climbed into his bed and was asleep in seconds. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: The Runaway Author: Emily Miller Archive: Who cares? Anywhere. Disclaimer: Do you think I, at 13 years old, own the people used in this story? Classification: S, Pre-XF Rating: PG Summary: Dana's grounded after an incident with a gun and a snake, and decides to run away. Little does she know, she'll have a "chance encounter" with somebody- and this time, it ain't Fox Mulder. Spoilers: One Breath, maybe... Dana knew she wasn't supposed to use that dumb gun on anything alive, her dad had said so a million times in 5 minutes... but Bill had started it, and he was 14 to her 8, so he was supposed to be the "adult" one, she and Charles the little kids that just tagged along. It had always been that way before. If Bill or Missy wanted to do something, they got to do it, usually. She and Charles never got to do anything, not without some parent holding their hands. Dana hated it, most of the time. Why was this time different? When Missy had taken Dana with her to meet some friends at a movie while baby-sitting neither of them was supposed to see, she, not her younger sister, got punished. Then there was the time- though she couldn't remember this one, her mom loved to remind her of it when she wanted to try something "dangerous"- that Bill and Missy had put her and Charles on the handlebars of their bikes and she'd fallen off and broken her arm. Nobody was really in trouble that time, but Bill did blame himself. And now, suddenly, things were different. She had done something Bill had started and was grounded for it. Charles wasn't- according to her father, he, at 5, was still too young to understand gun safety. His gun HAD been taken away, but that wasn't enough. She could see him playing in the yard through her window, and wanted both to kill him and to be outside playing with him. She wished, for once, that Missy were at home. At least it would be somebody to talk to, since she couldn't leave the room for 3 days. Bill had a week... she sighed and fell backwards on her bed dramatically, hoping by some miracle that her mom or dad would walk by just then and see how miserable she was, yeah, right. It was hopeless, there was nothing she could do to escape. She felt like a prisoner, one of those people in her mom watched on TV all the time. Bad, horrible people. Sometimes they got out. They dug a hole underneath the floor, or shot a guard or something. She couldn't shoot anybody, especially since her gun had been taken away, but she COULD get out. Maybe not dig under the floor, but she could climb out the window. Like the kids in books, runaways. She could be a runaway... 15 minutes later, she snuck past Charles, who never looked up from his dirt roads and toy cars, and crept under Bill's window. She could hear him complaining about being stuck inside through the open window and almost giggled. She was free and he wasn't. It felt wonderful to be alternately walking, skipping, and running down the roads in the small town- she couldn't remember the name, and didn't really care- where they were now living. She normally wasn't the type to skip or even be as cheerful, but it was different now. She didn't have to worry about what her brothers thought of her, she was on her own forever. Maybe she would live with somebody rich. Then she wouldn't need the small bag of clothes she'd brought along. But she would keep the plastic gun, a gift from someone years ago, whose name she couldn't remember, except that it was unusual, but who she knew she would never REALLY forget. Even a person with just a little money would be okay. Then, instead of a beautiful old mansion for a home, it would be a cold shack. In winter, when it snowed, she would have to go out for help, being the bravest and strongest of all 10 kids and their single mother... she smiled, imagining it. Dana Scully, Hero. Dana Katherine Scully, the Little Girl Who Saves lives. Maybe she would live with a doctor, because sometimes that's what she wanted to be. Bill said she wouldn't ever get there, but he was wrong. If she lived with a doctor, she could learn more early and do better in Medical School. Her life was now perfect, just the way she wanted it to be. "Thanks, snake," She whispered, and resumed running, ponytail flying out behind her like a red flag. Unfortunately, a red flag that meant trouble. 10 year old Don was always trying to be tough, but it was hard. All his friends had big brothers to help them learn to fight and be mean. All he had was his stupid sisters and mother. His father had been killed before he was born. His best friend, Jeffy, who was already 12, had said that if he beat up a girl, that would make him "tough." So he was hiding behind a tree, watching that little kid go running past. She was little and he didn't think she'd be TOO hard. "You going after her?" Jeffy asked, whispering. He stood behind the tree adjacent to Don's. "Yeah," He said, but didn't go immediately. He wasn't completely sure this was a good one. She was pretty small... "Look, DONNIE, if you don't go now, she's gonna get away and you'll be just a sissy forever." That made up his mind. He normally didn't care if people called him "Donnie", he actually liked it, because it was his father's name, but Jeffy made it sound like a baby name. He jumped from behind the tree and raced after the girl. "Hey! Shorty!" He yelled, not being able to think of anything worse to call her. He knew Jeffy was laughing at that, but didn't care. The girl kept running for a second, then stopped to turn and squint at him in the setting sun. "Don't call me that," She said, clearly meaning it as a threat- or a dare. "I'll call you whatever I want, Girly," He said, using the name he'd heard in a movie. Her mouth dropped open, and he wondered if the word really meant more than he thought it did. Oh, who cared- if it did, then good! Dana was very close to really getting angry. It was bad enough when her brothers, who knew her, called her names, but this was a total stranger! He'd even called her GIRLY- at her old-old school, that had meant one of the dummies like Missy who wore make-up and talked about boys. NOBODY there had called her "girly" or "girly girl" after the first couple of days, she'd made sure they didn't. "What's wrong, Girly?" he asked. She clenched her fists, dropped her bag, and jumped at him. Fortunately for her, he wasn't expecting her to do that, because he was bigger than her and she never would have been able to do it otherwise. She managed to get him on the ground and was doing her best to hit him hard enough to hurt when he finally fought back. She found herself held down on the sidewalk, her eye already swelling so she knew it would be black later. Hopefully, when she got out of this, it would make her look more pitiful to the rich people. "All right, Don!" An even older boy also jumped out from behind a tree, grinning at the one that had her helpless. Now she was in an even worse position- even if she could beat one of them in a fight, there was no way she could get two of them, much less one that looked bigger than Bill. "What should I do with her now?" The younger one, Don, asked, and she laughed at him, unable to help herself. He had no idea what he was doing! "Shut up, Girly," He said, hitting her again, and her laughter ended as she fought tears. Her face hurt. "Let's take her to the river and throw her in. My daddy goes drowned all these kittens there once, maybe she'll drown too," The older boy said. He looked like the really mean one, the one she was scared of. "Drown her? But that might really get us in trouble..." Don seemed a little reluctant to do anything more than regular bullies did, and Dana was glad for it. Maybe the older boy would listen to him. "Oh, Donnie, nothin'll happen. C'mon." She noticed that the name seemed to make up his mind. "Okay, Jeffy, but you can't go and tell everybody it's my fault." "I won't, I won't," Jeffy said. He grabbed Dana and jerked her to her feet as Don stumbled back out of the way. "Let's go." She was half-pulled down the road, looking desperately for somebody she could call to for help. There was nobody. Bill shhhed his little brother again as they crept along behind Dana and the two boys. "I AM being quiet!" Whispered Charles. He was mad because Bill wouldn't let him go beat up the older boys. They had followed their sister after Bill saw her running almost out of view. Curious, he too had climbed out his window and talked Charles into going with him. They had trailed her until the boy first jumped. Then Bill almost had too. They might not always get along, but he felt that his sister, with all her rough, boyish ways, was his responsibility. "I can swim, you know," Dana said defiantly as she was dragged along. "There's alligators in the river. They don't care if you can swim or not, they're fast and'll eat anything they can catch," The bigger boy said. The smaller one laughed. "You're a liar," She replied, but didn't sound all that sure. Bill once again held Charles back and forced himself not to go after them. "When do we go help Dana?" Charles asked, pulling away from Bill. "Shhhh... soon." They followed, as silently as possible, all the way to the river. It wasn't the cleanest water Bill had ever seen, but he knew there were no alligators. "Ready to die, Girly?" The younger boy asked, and Bill cringed. Dana did NOT like to be called names like that. "Better than spend another second with YOU," She replied, crossing her arms after the older one released her. She wouldn't run, there was nowhere she COULD run. "Okay. Push her in, Jeffy?" After getting a nod, the little one shoved her hard. She stumbled, and Bill felt his eyes widen as she almost fell... then she caught herself and leaped at them. "She's crazy," Charles whispered, completely serious. Bill agreed- but he ran out of hiding to help her. "Hey!" He yelled, because it was all he could think of. What were you supposed to say at times like that? "Yeah?' The Jeffy one turned to him, not realizing what he meant when he shouted. "Something wrong with my little sister?" He asked, feeling very brave. It didn't matter that what he said was like something out of the "Lassie" re-runs that Charles watched. "Yeah, plenty of things. You deal with her," Jeffy said, obviously not so big with someone his own age there. The younger boy looked scared, looking at Bill with big eyes. Bill got the feeling that he didn't do things like this often. "Let's go, Donnie." And they turned and ran. Dana glared at her older brother. "I coulda gotten them. You saw how I was doing." "Yeah, right. C'mon, Dana, Dad's gonna kill us for leaving. If you'll come willingly, I'll take the blame." She seemed to think that okay, because she joined him and Charles, who handed her the bag of clothes and her plastic gun. "I really could have gotten them good," She insisted as they walked off toward home. 'Yeah, right. By the way, nice eye..." He smiled broadly at her, and she hit his arm. "Shut up, Bill." "Donnie, Mom's mad because you weren't home for dinner," Donald Pfaster's youngest sister, still a couple of years older, informed him as he trudged up to his house after leaving Jeffy. "Who cares," He muttered. He hated girls. He wished they would all just fall over dead one day... Dana stayed grounded, for an extra day since she'd 'gone along with Bill.' Bill got an extra week. 3 years later, with the Scullys long gone, Jeffy drowned while swimming in the river on dare. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: White Christmas Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere, but ask first. DISCLAIMER: ... SPOILERS: None CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: Dana is chosen to sing in her school's holiday program and gets more help from her brothers and sister than she ever expected. MONDAY THE CHOSEN ONE Dana was praying. Not something for something she really thought God would listen to, but it was worth a try. Mrs. East was announcing who had gotten parts in the skit her second grade class had been chosen to do for the Christmas program before school let out for the holidays. "That's everybody. If I didn't call your name, you can help backstage, if you choose." Dana tried to keep her sigh of relief quiet. If she'd gotten a part, she knew she would have died. Getting up in front of people, hundreds of people... stage fright, that's what she had. Her relief lasted all of 10 seconds. "Dana, can I talk to you?" Mrs. East asked her as the other students went back to their reading books. Biting her lip and already worrying, Dana got up and walked to Mrs. East at the front of the room. Maybe she was just going to be assigned an important backstage job, like director. "Dana, I've noticed how clear your voice is when you're reading or telling an answer aloud. When I mentioned this to the other teachers, Mr. Johnson- the fourth grade teacher- was wondering if you would sing at the program. I told him you'd probably love to, but I should check first. Will, you, Dana?" She didn't know what she could say. Getting up to SING in front of all those people was even worse than being in the stupid skit! But Mrs. East was sure she would agree. "I guess I could," she said. "Thanks so much... Do you know 'White Christmas'? That's the song Mr. Johnson said he wanted to have but just couldn't get his class to sing." "I know it." "Go home and practice tonight. You have a week to get ready." "I know." "You can go back to your seat now." She walked back much more quickly, because if anybody had said any kind of congratulations she didn't know WHAT she would have done. She did NOT want to sing! She kept her head as close to her reading book as she possibly could and still be able to read the words. Not that she was able to read, anyway, but she had to at least pretend. She managed to get through the rest of reading and then spelling, and finally the bell rang. She was the first one out, running to get on the bus before anybody else. That way she could just sit in the back and be by herself. She almost managed it. She was the second one on the bus- the first was Bill. He was in the very last seat, looking like he was just as miserable as she was. She could live with sitting with him, so went back there. "I don't want to talk to anybody, Dana," He said. "I don't either. That's why I came back here." He moved his bag over enough that she could sit beside him and they watched from the back as other kids got on. Missy came on with a bunch of her friends but didn't give her siblings in the back more glance than she gave anyone else. The bus driver took her time deciding to wait and see if anybody else got on, waiting until there was practically nobody anywhere near the school. Then she jerked the bus backwards to turn it around and pulled out into the real street. "I'll tell you what's wrong with me if you'll tell me what's wrong with you," Bill said. "You tell me first," Dana said. "It's your class who's doing the play, right?" "Uh-huh." "Guess who gets to be Santa Claus?" "YOU?" She almost laughed, but bit the inside of her mouth and managed to stop it. "Yeah... so what's wrong with you?" "I'm not in the play, so Mrs. East wants me to get up in front of everybody and SING!" "Sing what?" "White Christmas... do you think we could talk Mom into letting us go to a private school?" "And start before Christmas? Doubt it. Don't worry about singing, Dana, you'll do great." "Yeah, and you'll be a good Santa." "Oh, THANK you." She got a kick for that, but didn't kick back. She was feeling a million times better. Until she got home. The driver, as usual, let them off at the very end of the neighborhood, even though she was going right by their house. She said she didn't have time to stop at every kid's house, even though nobody else got off where she DID stop. Missy stopped and waited for Bill and Dana after they got off and the bus left. Without her friends there, she didn't care if they were seen with her or not. "Why were you guys sitting in the back?" she asked. "Because," Bill said. Dana trusted that he wouldn't tell Missy the truth unless she told him to. At least not HER truth. "Because why?" "Just tell'er, Bill," Dana said, knowing she would find out eventually, anyway. She didn't want to hear what Missy would say in reply, though, and so walked ahead of her brother and sister. And still, she heard. "Dana and I have both been asked to do special parts in the school's Christmas thing." "Lemme guess, you're Santa and Dana's gonna sing." Dana's eyes widened, but she didn't turn to let Missy see her surprise. One of her friends had probably been listening to their conversation and had gone to the front of the bus to tell her... "My teacher told us that one of the second graders was gonna sing with us. And I already knew they needed a sixth grader for Santa," she said. Dana could imagine her shrug as she said it. "Hey, Dana, wait!" Dana heard Bill call, and she realized that she was far ahead of them now. She stopped to wait. They caught up seconds later, and Missy said the one thing neither Dana or Bill would have EVER thought she would say. "I'll help you get ready, Dana." Dana turned to look at her sister to quickly that her hair almost hit Bill. He dodged the flying pony tail just in time. "Really?" "I can play a lot of Christmas songs on the piano... you know how Mom likes me to practice, so I'll be doing what she wants and helping you at the same time. What're you singing?" "White Christmas." "I can play THAT. That's easy." "Wow, thanks, Missy-" she was going to say more, but 5 year old Charles, who went to morning kindergarten, came racing over to meet them. Dana realized for the first time how close to the house they were. "Dana! Dana, Mom wants you!" He was saying loudly as he pulled on Bill's backpack to try and make them hurry. Dana, worried, took off towards the house. She threw her stuff on the floor and called, "Mom?" "In the kitchen, Dana!" She went more slowly, because they weren't supposed to run in the house, back to where her mom was looking at the mail that must have come early. "Dana, I got a call from your teacher today." "I didn't do anything!" Dana immediately said, attempting to defend herself. Mrs. Scully laughed. "No, you didn't. Mrs. East just wanted to tell me that you father, Charles, and I should be at this Christmas program. But she said you'd tell me why. She said you could tell me." "Oh, that. Bill's gonna be Santa in my class's play and I'm gonna sing." "By yourself?" "Uh-huh." "Congratulations, Dana!" "Is it something good?" "It's great!" She was glad that she'd been chosen, REALLY glad, for the first time. "Really good?" "Really good, Dana." She grinned and ran off to tell Charles. ************************************************* "Dana, you've got to get higher," Missy said. She had played through that stupid song what seemed like a thousand times by now, but still Dana couldn't get it just right. "My voice won't GO higher!" Dana was just as tired as her sister of going through the song over and over, but wouldn't quit until she got it right. Unfortunately, Missy would, and then she would have nobody to practice with. "It does when you yell." "I can't get up there and YELL." "Okay, okay, just one more time tonight." She played more slowly this time, and on a lower scale. But Dana didn't even begin. "That's TOO low." So she went back to the way she had been playing. Dana, as usual, started off shaky. "I'm d-dreaming of a white Christmas... just like the ones I used to know..." She was doing her best ever. Her voice got stronger as she continued, until she finally sang, "And may all your Christmases be white..." "Better, but we should work on the beginning. Would you sing better if Bill and Charles sang with you?" Missy asked. "Maybe." So the brothers were dragged in, but neither complained. They wanted to help Dana do her best as much as Missy did. "Play lower this time," Dana said. Missy did, and the song was started yet another time. Although all of them started it, Bill stopped towards the end, and nudged Charles to make him stop, too, and let Dana sing alone. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... with every Christmas card I write... may your days be merry and bright... and may all your Christmases be white!" She bowed at the end, then laughed at herself. "This is weird," she said. "What?" Bill asked. "All of this." And he laughed, too, then Charles and finally Missy. Walking by on the way to call her husband and see if he would be home to see his children in the program, Mrs. Scully stopped to see what was so funny. "What's going on in here?" she asked. "Nothing, Mom," Missy managed to say between giggles. None of them had any more idea than their mom as to what was so funny. It just seemed like the right time to laugh. Mrs. Scully left with a strange look on her face. She wasn't completely sure that her children were completely okay- maybe listening to the same song one too many times!- but at least they weren't fighting. "Wanna sing one more time?" Charles asked. "Sure!" Bill and Missy said at the same time- and they all laughed again. ***************************************** TUESDAY THE FIGHT "Hi, Bill," Dana said the next day as her brother sat beside her in the school's small auditorium and tried to get as low in his seat as he could. They were having their first rehearsal and he had come from the sixth grade, where his classmates were working on their puppet show, to practice with the group he was performing with. "Hi, Dana," he said, and slumped down further. He was obviously not too comfortable being with the 'little kids.' "I don't have to sing 'til tomorrow," she said. "That's good. No offense, but I'm not sure you're ready to sing in front of even your whole class." "I'm not either." "William Scully? Is he here yet?" Mrs. East asked from the stage, where she was directing a group of kids on how to put up the 'backdrop' posters they'd made that morning. "I'm here." Bill raised a hand halfway into the air, then quickly pulled it back down. "Can you come up here for a minute?" He had no choice but to go, so got up and left. Dana was alone again. For a couple of seconds. Then one of the girls from her class, Kelli something - she - didn't - remember, came over and sat beside her. "That your brother?" she asked. "Uh-huh." Dana wasn't sure she liked Kelli much, because she was one of the kids that, in Missy's class, would be considered 'popular.' Dana was sure she would NEVER be popular. "You're lucky you have an older brother. I only have a baby sister." "Why?" "My best friend Jan- she's almost 10, she's in fourth grade- has an older brother, and she says you can wear their clothes and their friends like you." "She's a liar. I don't wear Bill's stuff and his friends usually like my little brother, not me." "She is not a liar! You're just a little stuck-up jerk. I hope you don't stay here very long, you're just a teacher's pet." "I am not!" Dana's temper was beginning to surface- the same temper that had gotten her so mad the year before that she'd almost broken Charles' nose pushing him into a wall. "You sure act like one." That was it. Dana grabbed Kelli's hair and pulled as hard as she could. And Kelli, typical girl, screeched. Then she fought back, jerking away from Dana and trying to scratch her. If she hadn't been trying to keep from getting scratched, Dana would have rolled her eyes. Why was it that all girls fought with fingernails? She almost calmly pulled back her arm and hit Kelli in the eye. Another screech. She was just getting ready for another shot while she could when her arm was suddenly jerked so hard she was pulled from her seat. Thinking it was one of Kelli's dumb friends, she kicked the person who'd grabbed her, harder even than she kicked Missy. "Dana!" Bill was shouting. She whirled to see who it had actually been that grabbed her and saw her brother trying to keep her from going at Mrs. East again. "Dana, stop!" She stopped, suddenly realizing that she would be in trouble for this, maybe even kicked out of school! Still on the floor, she pulled her legs to her chest, put her head on her knees, and cried. "She hurt me but I won," she heard Kelli say through her own tears to a friend. ************************************************** "Dana, why did you fight her?" Mrs. East asked as she, Dana, and Kelli sat on the rug she had at the back of the second grade classroom. "'Cause she said I was a jerk and that she hoped I wouldn't live here very long," Dana said. She had quit crying, angry again- Kelli was acting like her swelling eye was going to kill her and wouldn't stop sniffling. "You called my friend a liar," Kelli said. "Kelli, I'll get your story in a minute... Dana, was it really necessary to FIGHT for that?" "My dad says that you have to stand up for yourself and do what you have to, no matter what." "Did he ever tell you that meant fighting with other students because they called you names?" Dana hated it when teachers asked her impossible questions like that. "...No... But he said-" Mrs. East interrupted her. "I see what you were thinking, Dana. I'm not going to call your parents on this one, but if it happens again..." "It won't! I promise!" Dana said quickly, relieved that she'd gotten out of trouble. "But what about ME?" Kelli asked, unable to see the girl who'd called her best friend a 'liar' getting away with what she'd done. She smoothed her hair again where Dana had pulled it. "We'll call your mother and say there was a little accident- which it was." "What if I tell her the truth?" "Kelli, I can't stop you from telling her everything that happened. But if you do, and she wants to talk to me, I'm going to tell her the whole story- including your calling Dana names and fighting back instead of waiting for me to get there." "But-" "Not now. We have to get back and get our rehearsal done before William has to go back to class." She stood up and the girls followed behind her as she walked back to the auditorium, glaring at each other the whole way. ************************************************** "And then I started hitting her!" Dana said, thrusting her fist forward for emphasis. Charles, eyes wide, ducked her false-punch. Then he gave her a grin missing a front tooth. "I lost my tooth today," he said, finally able to tell her HIS big news. "That's nice... I was gonna knock out Kelli's teeth, too, but then the teacher grabbed me and guess what I did?" "What?" "I KICKED her!" "You really kicked a teacher? Really?" "Uh-huh. Hard." "I would never kick my teachers. They're nice." "By second grade, teachers are mean." "I don't EVER want to be in second grade!" "It's not so bad... c'mon, lets go practice my singing." "Can I sing too?" "If you want." They left the front yard, where they'd been watching the sun go down, and went inside the house. "It's warmer in here," Charles said to no one as Dana went off in search of Missy. She found her at the kitchen table, doing homework. Her desk had cracked when Bill had thrown a shoe at it when he was mad at her and she said she couldn't use it anymore. "Can we go practice my song, Missy?" Dana asked. "Not right now. I'm doing my math." "Later?" "Yeah. So go away." She went, sighing a little, to her room to find something to do. As usual, there was nothing new. She finally just grabbed a book and curled up in the corner of the room, for some reason her favorite spot, to read. She didn't read long. Bill and Charles were in the room seconds later- lugging their dad's ancient stereo. "White Christmas," Bill explained as he put on the dusty album. A second later, Bing Crosby came on, singing a hundred times better than Dana would EVER be. "It's Mom's music, she said she found it when she was going through old stuff today." "You can sing with it," Charles said. "Thanks," she said. "I'm done!" Missy called suddenly. "But tonight I'm going to practice with Missy," Dana said. "We'll come, too," Charles said. "I'm not. I have homework, too." Bill disappeared into his room while Dana and Charles went to join their sister by the piano. ************************************** FRIDAY PERFORMANCE DAY Dana looked at Mrs. East, who smiled at her from the piano. She smiled back, took a deep breath, and waited for the music. It started way too soon. Don't start now... not now... "I-I'm dreaming o-of a w-white Christmas," she sang, very softly, to the other second graders. Her voice shook worse than it ever had before. "Just l-like the o-ones I used to k-know..." Mrs. East stopped playing. "Speak up, Dana." She started again, and so did Dana. This time, she raised her voice, but still stuttered. Again, Mrs. East stopped. "I'm going to go slowly this time, Dana, and you really concentrate on the words." "Okay..." She bit her lip until the music started. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... Just like the ones I used to know..." There was a loud crash, and suddenly she was in darkness. Something was on top of her, something big and heavy. She could barely breathe, so she screamed for help. She could hear, from her classmates, laughter. And Mrs. East saying that everybody had better get quiet. Then the heaviness was gone. She was safe- out from under the curtain, which someone had untied. She got up, hoping she didn't look as embarrassed as she felt, and looked around the auditorium. Most of the kids were still laughing. REALLY most- all but one. Kelli was just smirking. "Dana, are you alright?" Mrs. East asked her. "Uh-huh... What happened?" She was pretty sure, but she wanted to make sure that somebody would have had to untie the curtain for it to fall. "SOMEBODY untied the curtain. And I have a pretty good idea who." Good, Mrs. East saw Kelli's smile of victory, too. "Can I go sit down for awhile?" Dana asked. "Yes... let me go ask this person if they know what happened." She had not only gotten revenge, she'd gotten out of singing, too! ************************************************** The night arrived all too soon. Before she knew it, it was time to get dressed up for the program. Her dad had managed to make it home, and even he insisted she wear a dress. But it was okay. She really did want to do good tonight, and if a dress would help, good for it. She put on her green Christmas dress, the one she usually used for Church around this time of year, and let her mother French-braid her hair. She felt almost pretty as she sat with Missy, who was wearing black so she wouldn't be seen on stage crew, waiting for Bill to get his costume on. "You're gonna do great, Dana," Missy said. "I'm scared I'll mess up. Today at school I was stuttering and stuff." "I heard somewhere that if you mess up last rehearsal, you do better in the actual performance." "Really?" "Yep." They were quiet as they heard Bill coming, his black boots loud on the wooden floor. He'd refused to let anyone see his costume before that day. Missy and Dana couldn't help laughing as he clomped into the room, beard slightly crooked and his nose painted bright red. He'd stuffed his shirt, worn boots so big he had to tie them on, and covered his short hair with a longer white wig. "Ho-ho-ho," he said, sarcastically, to Missy and Dana as they tried to stop laughing. Then he hit them with his hat. "Stop, you'll mess up my hair," Dana said, suddenly serious. "DANA'S worried about her hair? Mom, call a doctor!" Missy said. "What?" Her mom poked her head into the room just then, looking confused. She didn't give Missy a chance to answer. "We're leaving now." The ride to school was too long and not long enough. Dana was excited, but scared to death. She wished, AGAIN, she'd just gotten a part in the dumb skit, like everybody else in her class. They arrived at the school, and she went with Bill and Missy backstage to find her group. Bill went to her class, Missy with the others working with sets, and Dana went to the fourth graders. "Dana, you're going to be the closing song, the last thing in the program," Mr. Johnson said. Dana liked him- she hoped they stayed long enough for HER to have him in fourth grade like Missy did. She liked being with the big kids, even if it made her feel like a baby. Before she knew it, the principal was on stage, greeting a sixth-grade girl who was going to announce each class. "First, we have the first grade class, doing the 'Rudolph' dance!" Dana wished SHE had gotten to be the announcer. The girl sounded like she was having fun. The first graders walked out in a sloppy line, did the dance, and came back. They were giggling the whole time they were up and when they came backstage. Dana thought they were stupid. Third grade, because they also did a dance, went out next. Then the second grade was called to do their play, with a half-mortified Bill, a group of fifth graders saying the poem 'A Visit From St. Nicholas', the sixth grade puppet show, and finally the fourth grade singing. Dana wasn't ready. She wasn't going to be able to do it. "Lastly, we have a very special performance by one of the second grade students," the announcer was saying now. She couldn't, couldn't... and she felt a hand on her shoulder. "You're gonna do great, Dana," Missy repeated her earlier words. "You can do it," Bill said. She smiled at them both, her courage regained. "Dana Scully will sing the classic 'White Christmas!'" The announcer finished. Dana took a deep breath and went out into the suddenly huge auditorium. She'd thought it was going to be hundreds of people- it was MILLIONS! Every person on the planet must be there. And they were... they were all clapping! For HER! She smiled as she stepped up to the already- adjusted microphone. Another deep breath as the music first began. Then: "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... just like the ones I used to know... where the treetops glisten... and children listen... to hear sleigh bells in the snow..." She was doing it. She could hear her own voice, magnified many times, filling the auditorium. She felt like some kind of angel, a Christmas angel. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... with every Christmas card I write... may your days be merry and bright..." She took the biggest breath possible and let it all out on the last line of the song. "And may all your Christmases be white!" She was breathing hard, astonished at what she'd done, when the music stopped. There was more applause... THUNDEROUS applause... and she thought she was going to fall over dead. She'd done it! She had sang the whole song, and she'd done it well! And outside, snow began to fall. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: I Hope You Know I Loved You Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Who cares? DISCLAIMER: All in this story belong to the big guys at FOX. RATING: G CLASSIFICATION: SA SUMMARY: Fox Mulder writes a letter. NOTE: In case there's anybody out there that was actually following the stories "Stratego" and "Samantha's Story", I finally got all parts sent, but I haven't seen them since. If you need 'em, E-Mail me, and I'll get them to you as soon as I can. "Fox! Hey, Fox! Wait!" "Why don't you go play with your friends?" "Why don't YOU?" "Shut up, Sam." "Don't you have any friends, Fox?" "Sam, SHUT UP!" "I'll be your friend... Fox, wait! Fox!" **************************************************************** "Guess what I got you for Christmas!" "A compass and a pocket knife." "How do YOU know that's what it is?" "I know now, since you asked like that." "How'd you know, anyway?" "You left it lying on your bed." "Oh..." "Stupid." "I am not!" **************************************************************** "Like my new shoes, Fox?" "Leave me alone, I'm doing my homework." "Just look at them... please?" "SAM! I'm WORKING!" "You don't hafta yell!" "Yeah I do. You won't go away if I don't." "You could just ask." "You wouldn't listen." "Maybe I would." "Samantha Ann Mulder, leave your brother alone!" "I'm sorry, Fox..." "LET ME WORK!" ***************************************************************** "I'm scared of Dad, Fox... He keeps looking at me like he's never seen me before..." "You worry too much." "He never did that before." "Like I said, you worry too much." "What if he hits me or something." "He won't hit you." "But what if?" "You're paranoid." "What's that?" "Go look in the mirror. I'm outside, if Mom asks." "Can I go?" "No!" **************************************************************** "What happens when you die?" "I'm TRYING to go to sleep." "What HAPPENS?" "I don't know!" "What if I die?" "You're not gonna die." "What if I'm kidnapped? What if I just disappear?... Fox, if I disappeared, would you look for me?" "Probably not. Go to sleep." "Why not?" "Because I'd be GLAD you were gone." "Why?" "Because you're too loud, Mom and Dad like you more, you never leave me alone..." "I'm sorry... would you still not look for me." "No." "...Oh... Good night, Fox..." **************************************************************** Dear Sam, I know you'll never get this letter, because you're gone forever... that's what Dad says, because tomorrow it's been a year since you disappeared. But it makes me feel better to know that, maybe, you're dead and in Heaven (which I know you'll go to, even if Dad says that's all fake stuff, because you were such a good kid) and can hear my thoughts or something. If you can, stupid as this sounds, I hope you know I loved you... I STILL love you. Even though I never said it, and half the time I was making you so miserable you must have been sure I hated you, it's true. You were the best little sister anyone could ever have. You were always happy, and now I can think back on the times we had fun together, and it makes me smile. Sometimes I'm smiling through tears, because remembering it makes me cry, too. Like the time we tried to build that treehouse, remember? It sure didn't work too well, and it SURE hurt when it broke and we fell out! And then when we pretended we were making an TV show, and climbed on the roof to do an action scene, and Mom caught us... I didn't know trouble like that was possible! You didn't get it nearly as bad though- you weren't grounded for a week like I was. Even though we fought a lot, we DID have fun, didn't we? Sometimes I wish you'd just turn up one day, or that you'd never been gone. But then you'd be stuck at this miserable place. Dad's been drinking WAY too much, and Mom never cooks anymore, or does anything that doesn't absolutely HAVE to be done. My grades at school have really dropped, although not enough to fail me. I like to believe if you came back, it would be back to normal, not that that was much better... I'm not mad at you, Sam, no matter what this letter sounds like. I love you, I really do, and I'm sorry for everything I ever said or did. If you can hear me, somehow, I swear that's true. Love, Your brother Fox ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Sometimes I Think I Live in a Tornado! Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER:Bill, Missy, Dana, and Charles Scully are not mine... CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: An essay about family written by the youngest Scully. NOTE: See my new (still small) Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/8203/index.html Charles Scully 10/28/73 My Familyly My life is really crazy sometimes. There are six people in my family. Me, my mom and dad, and by brother Bill and sisters Missy and Dana. I'm the youngest. Bill's usually nice to me. A lot of my friends, like Russ Johnson, who's in this class, say their big brothers are mean and hit them and things like that. I like Bill, most of the time. He's okay, usually. He's 15 years old. Missy is the next oldest. She's 12, almost 13. Bill's almost 16. Missy is a normal girl, I think. She likes to go to movies a lot and talk about her boyfriends. She's had about 250 in October. She's the one that doesn't like our family. She says she believes in reeinkarnashun, which makes my mom mad because she says it says in the Bible that that isn't real. Then Missy says how does she know the Bible's what's real, and my mom gets real mad and sends her to her room. And Missy slams the door. Dana's 9, closest to me. She's only 2 years older. She doesn't like boys and stuff yet. She tells me all the time she never will. She told that to Bill and Missy too, and they laughed at her. She got mad then. I like Dana, sometimes, because she'll play outside with me in the dirt and stuff and not worry about getting all muddy. She even likes guns and playing war. But my dad says we shouldn't play war, because we haven't been alive long enough to remember a true, big war like World War 2 or something. I wish I was. Its always really crazy at my house, and sometimes I feel like I live in a tornado! Bill's throwing his books around because he doesn't like to do homework. Missy's talking on the phone, yelling a lot that she can't believe that. Dana complains that she doesn't have anything to do, and mom asks why doesn't she read a book. Then Dana says she needs a new one, and she wants to go to the library. But mom usually won't take her. I think she liked it better when we lived at our old home, a year ago next month since we moved, because she could walk to the library there. My family's really neat. The End ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: What Happened In That Room Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER:Fox and Samantha Mulder aren't mine. CLASSIFICATION: V RATING: G SUMMARY: My New Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/8203/ It was early morning, no longer night, and he was the only one up. Since she had disappeared a couple of months before, he had trouble sleeping a lot of nights. The night before had been no different, but it was a Friday, so it really didn't matter. He hadn't even tried, had just waited until he was sure his mom was done crying like she did every night. He crept past his parents' bedroom, almost enjoying the cold wooden boards under his sock-feet. It felt good, for some reason. Made him feel like he was truly there, not stuck in a night he couldn't remember, the way he usually was. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just went where his legs carried him, knowing they would go where he need to. They carried him to the room he'd avoided since she'd disappeared. His parents had apparently avoided it, too- some things were moved out of normal places since the police had been there looking at things, but even those things were covered in dust. He hadn't realized that dust could get on things so fast. Pieces from the game- WHAT game?- were on the floor. For just a second, he could almost remember being stretched out on the carpet, her sitting opposite him, her knees pulled to her chest. He had grinned as he... it was gone, he couldn't remember. Frustrated, he walked past the game, to the TV. It was off, and again he could almost get something... it had gone off, but nobody had TURNED it off... something was wrong... things were dark and something was wrong... He blinked suddenly, found himself sitting in front of the dark television. Without thinking, he reached over and switched it on. Static, for some reason, on every channel. He KNEW it wasn't supposed to be like that. That he could remember. It had always been the only TV in the house that worked perfectly, because his dad had refused to get the other fixed, there wasn't time. As the static filled his ears, he turned his head up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. The day before she'd left... ____________________________________________________ "Foxy!" A litte voice yelled, and there were giggles. Fox didn't turn around. He wasn't going to let them know how angry he was getting. "Foxy MUL-der!" The girl sang again. "Yeah, like that," Samantha urged. She was the one who'd told all her dumb little friends how much he hated his name, but how he hated Foxy more than anything. "Foxy, Foxy, Foxy-Fox!" "Fo-xy! Foxy Mul-der!" "SHUT UP!" He did NOT want to listen to them this afternoon. He hadn't had a very good day at school, and, though he normally tried to be tolerant, wasn't going to let them do that. "We better stop. He'll hit when he gets like that," Sam said. At least his threat had gotten to HER. It didn't get to her friends- "I'm not scared of anybody named FOXY. Hey, Foxy!" "I'd really shut up, Kella." "I'm STILL not scared of any dumb animal. FOXY!!!!!!!!!!" "I said SHUT UP!" He turned and yelled. Samantha and one of the girls were now practically cowering behind the other one, the one who wouldn't listen. "Wanna make me, Foxy?" She asked, crossing her arms and cocking her head as though she wasn't at all worried. But he could tell she was, a little. "Stop it, Kella," The other girl whispered. She was biting her lip, her eyes terrified. "You guys are babies." "I am not. I should know what to do, he's MY brother." "I wouldn't let MY brother act like this." "Your brother's a baby." "So what, Jen, YOU'RE the scared baby." "Am not," Jen said, but she didn't come out of hiding. Fox watched them as they tried to decide who was scared and who wasn't, then turned and continued walking. None of them noticed for a few seconds that he was gone. "Hey, Foxy Mulder, why're you leaving!" Kella yelled then, and he stopped again. "I told you not to call me that." He was to the point of not caring how much trouble he got in now. His backpack was dropped on the grass and he turned to the little girl. She was still trying to look defiant, but as he started walking back towards her, he saw her take a deep breath. Samantha and Jen had scampered away when he dropped the backpack, trying to keep themselves safe. He hoped they stayed there. "Call me that again," He dared as he finally got close to Kella. She looked up at him. "Foxy," She said, but her voice shook a little. He grabbed her arm. "Again?" "F-f-foxy Mu-mulder," She stammered. She was scared now, but still too stubborn to quit. He shoved her backwards, and she fell and landed on her wrists- unfortunately, not hard enough to break them. Then she started wailing, trying to throw her backpack at him, but he just backed up. He was confused- why had he done something like that? "Fox?" Samantha came up behind him very slowly, and he turned to look at her. "Don't hit me, I told her to stop." "I'm not gonna hit you." He resumed his walk home, and... _____________________________________________________ It was getting harder to remember. His dad had yelled at him, when Sam had told what happened, and he'd stayed mad at her all the next day. What had he done to let her know he was mad? Anything? Nothing? Maybe the day after... ______________________________________________________ "Fox, you have to know what happened. You were sitting right there with her. You didn't leave for ANY reason, you said." The man was trying his best to look normal, but to Fox he looked like the officer that he was. Someone not to be trusted. "I didn't. But I can't remember." "Then how do you know that you didn't leave her, for just a little while." "I DIDN'T. I can remember THAT," He insisted, almost yelling now. He was tired of being asked the same questions a million times. If one of those guys needed the answers Fox was going to give by now, he could just go ask a friend. "Fox!" His dad warned when he finally got mad. "Sorry," He muttered, wanting to get out of there. "But I just... I just don't remember what happened..." __________________________________________________ He wasn't getting anything. By now, why should he bother? She was gone. His parents said she wasn't coming back, not now. He got to his feet, shivering in the cold room. Watching the floor, he trudged back to his room. He would never give up. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Normal Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: Nobody belongs to me. They belong, mostly, to Chris Carter. CLASSIFICATION: S RATING: PG SUMMARY: Dana and Charles Scully are shocked by some of the people at their new school... one in particular. My New Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/8203/ They were the only children in their family not off at college that year, and for some reason, Dana and Charles Scully stuck together. They both knew it was really strange, for them to eat lunch together and talk waiting for the bus, but neither cared anymore. It was better than being alone against SOME of the kids there. Dana would never admit it, but some of them scared her. She found herself shrinking away even from the eighth graders in the halls. And she 4 years older than most of them. Charles, on the other hand, always told her how he felt. It didn't bother him if other people laughed at him. Sometimes Dana wished SHE didn't care. She ran a hand over her hair, not liking the way it was cut. It was too short, although a couple of teachers had said something to her about it when she'd gotten to their classes the day before. As usual, the jerks that were the other students ignored her completely. "Dana, have you SEEN some of these kids?" Charles asked as he sat beside her at the small table they always used for lunch. She looked around. "Oh, wow, no! There's KIDS here?" She asked. He gave her a look that said 'very funny' and said," You know what I mean... there's a girl I keep seeing in the hall. She's about your height, maybe a little shorter, and she's only an ninth grader. But she has a MAJOR reputation. She's the weirdest person I've ever seen in my life!" "That's not unusual. This is like New York compared to SOME of the places we've lived." "You haven't seen her, Dana." "Maybe I have. Is she the one with the black hair? The little short one?" "No, that's a girl my age. I have chemistry with her. This one's got a different hair color every day of the week. I pass her in the halls when I'm going to Spanish." "I don't think I've seen her. What's her name?" "I don't know..." Charles admitted, then looked to the right suddenly. "That's her! Over there, with that black-haired girl you mentioned." "Whoa," Dana said. And she meant it. That person was EASILY the strangest of the strange. Her hair was purple, she had a nose ring (Yuck, Dana thought, then, that must have HURT to have out in!), and she was wearing the dumbest looking boots Dana had ever seen. Boots like Bill would wear when he and his friends went camping. The girl was yelling something at boy and tossing food at him. "Told you so," Charles muttered. They watched as the girl was stopped by a teacher, who pointed her to the door. The girl grabbed her backpack, stuck up her middle finger at the teacher's back, and left. "She's real mature," Dana commented sarcastically. Charles only nodded. And they sat in silence until the bell rang. __________________________________________________________ It was later that day, really night. Dana was in her room, reading a book for English. "Dana?" Charles asked, knocking on her door. She jumped. "What?" She called. "I found out some more about that girl." Dana didn't REALLY care... but she really did, if she thought about it. "You can come in." He did, and sat on Missy's old bed. "When're you gonna take down her posters?" He asked before telling her anything. "Whenever I have some free time. Which I don't have very often." "What're you doing?" "Reading Billy Budd. At least some of the teachers here know good reading material." "Is it okay that I'm here." "Sure- Moby Dick's better, anyway... What did you find out about her?" "She's English, she just moved here a few years ago. She's interested in acting. She gets in trouble a lot, for talking back and stuff. She claims, according to Jess- that's the black-haired girl-, that she acts like she does because her parents 'treat her like shit.'" "Why would she say THAT?" "Well, they brought her here from England..." "She shouldn't complain about that. We've never stayed in one place for more than a couple of years in our lives." "I doubt she cares, Dana... and, just in the last couple of years, she's gotten younger siblings." "That IS horrible. You wouldn't know." "Yeah, but you're one, too." "I was talking about myself." He laughed. "That's all I could find out. I didn't think to ask her name." "Smart, Charlie." "Don't call me that." "Yeah, yeah..." "I'm going to do my homework." __________________________________________________________ At about the same time the next day, they were doing homework together on the dining room table. "I found out her name," Charles said suddenly. "Whose?" Dana asked, without thinking. 'The weird girl's." "Oh, yeah... I decided last night I'm glad I'm not her, that I'm normal." "You're NOT normal." "NormalER." "Is that a word?" "Shut up, Charlie." "Don't call me that." "Okay, okay... what's her name?" "I can't tell you if I have to shut up." "Charles!" "Alright..." He paused. "Charles! Tell me her stupid name!" He shrugged. "Don't overheat, Dana, I'll tell you." He stopped again. "Charles Scully, WHAT IS HER NAME?" He crossed his arms. "What'll you give me?" "If you don't, I stop sitting with you at lunch." "And who'll you sit with?" "Other people... PLEASE, Charles!" "Okay, okay. Her name's Gillian Anderson." "GILLIAN? What kind of name is GILLIAN?" "I don't know. Maybe it's English." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Memory Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: Nobody belongs to me. They belong to Chris Carter. CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: A memory of Samantha-- or is it? Memories were an escape. He could remember a good day from back then, a bad day, an adventure, anything, and things, for awhile, would be better. He was good at remembering things. When he thought about incidents from his life up until just over a year before, he would BE there. Like it was happening then, at the time. But, always, he knew exactly when and where everything he discovered hiding in his mind had happened. He was never sure when something would make him think of an earlier event. Once, the smell of new paint reminded him of the time he had drawn all over her walls with crayons when he was mad because she got something when they went shopping and he didn't. Then there were the ones that SEEING something brought on. Two girls yelling at an older boy reminded him of her friends bothering him. Or sometimes, rarely, a feeling or sound made him recall a distant time. But, only once, all four things surfaced a day he couldn't remember no matter how hard he tried. It was a warm day in late spring when it happened. He was sitting on the grass, watching the other seventh graders yell and cheer at the eighth graders playing basketball. He could smell the grass, something that always reminded him of days like this one. He could see, but not hear, the smaller kids playing at the day care across the street. One girl looked so much like her it made his throat close with threatening tears. And there was suddenly a vision of an earlier time. He knew it was an earlier time, because she was there. About 4 years old, it looked like. So it was a long ago earlier time. They were in a field of grass and small pink and purple flowers. She was picking the flowers, stooped on the ground, carefully examining each flower before pulling it up. He was standing just a few feet away, not doing anything, just watching. He was confused now. It was obviously spring there, too- the sun was shining above, the breeze that made her hair fall into his eyes and the grass gently wave and whisper warm- but he had no idea where they were. And there were no grown-ups to be seen. Even more confusing was her. She was wearing a nice pink sweater he didn't remember her ever having and her hair was tied out of her face with a matching ribbon. She'd always had braids. He didn't say a word as she continued to pick the flowers, didn't speak when she stood up, turned, and ran to him. "Here!" She said, handing him the flowers, then smiling up expectantly. He took them, and smiled back. "They're nice." Her smile widened, and he knew she was surprised. He wasn't all that nice to her very often. She took advantage of it. "C'mon!" She yelled, and raced off across the field. He shoved the flowers in his jeans pocket and ran after her. "Better run faster!" He called as he got closer. She turned to see where he was and then went faster. But he still caught up and half-tackled her. She fell, laughing, on the grass. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" She giggled as he pretended to threaten to step on her. Then he collapsed beside her. "Hey, look. The moon!" He pointed it out to her. "What's it doing out now? It's only afternoon." "Maybe it's watching us. I bet it wishes it could be out playing with its younger sister." "And its big brother, who's the nicest big brother in the whole world!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Fox! Fox Mulder!" The voice jerked him from one of the best things he'd EVER recalled. Even if he didn't remember when or where it had happened. Maybe he'd imagined it. "Fox Mulder!" He stood up and turned to see who was calling him, then realized the bell had rung and the other kids had gone inside. It was probably his dumb teacher, yelling at him for being late. But it wasn't. It was the second grade teacher. "Fox? Can I talk to you?" She asked. "Sure," He said. She smiled sadly. "I was cleaning out my desk yesterday and found something I think you'll want. It's an old paper of Samantha's. I had the class write a short story about a perfect day they'd like to have, and she worked for HOURS on it. She was so proud of it, I promised I'd hang it up in the classroom, but before I had the chance..." He knew she was trying to be nice, even though he wished people could just come out and say 'kidnapped' like they wanted to. That was what everybody thought had happened, anyway. "Thanks," He said. She smiled again, and handed him the the paper. Then she left, without even telling him he was late for class. He looked at what he was now holding, and saw that it was more than just a report. She'd done a whole book. It had a cover- "My Perfect Day, By Samantha Mulder" it said, in her careful but hard-to-read print. The inside, only half a page long, was written in clearly struggled-on writing. MY PERFECT DAY WOULD BE ONE WITH MY BIG BROTHER FOX. WE WOULD GO TO PLAY SOMEWHERE WITH NO ADULTS IN A FIELD OF FLOWERS. WE WOULD JUST RUN AND PLAY AND HAVE FUN WITHOUT ANYBODY SAYING IT WAS TIME TO GO INSIDE AND GET READY FOR BED OR EAT OUR DINNER BEFORE WE WERE READY TO GO IN. IT WOULD BE THE BEST PLACE TO BE IN THE WHOLE WORLD, AND WE WOULD GET TO STAY BY OURSELVES ALL DAY. FIRST I WOULD PICK FLOWERS WHILE I TOLD FOX TO GO DO SOMETHING ELSE SO HE WOULD NOT KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. THEN WHEN I HAD GOTTEN LOTS OF FLOWERS REALLY PRETTY COLORS THE PERFECT ONES I WOULD GIVE THEM TO HIM. HE WOULD LIKE THE A LOT AND WOULD THANK ME FOR THEM WHICH HE WOULD NOT DO IN REAL LIFE. THEN WE WOULD JUST RUN AND RUN UNTIL WE COULD NOT RUN ANYMORE JUST TO HAVE FUN. I WOULD PROBABLY GET TIRED FIRST AND HE WOULD PRETEND TO PUSH ME DOWN AND THAT HE WAS GOING TO HURT ME BY STEPPING ON ME. BUT HE WOULD JUST BE KIDDING AND WE WOULD LAUGH. THEN HE WOULD FALL DOWN WITH ME AND WE WOULD LOOK AND SEE IF THE MOON WAS OUT. I SAW IT ONCE DURING THE DAY ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL AND WE WOULD SEE IF IT WAS OUT AGAIN. AND THEN WE WOULD GO HOME AND GET TO HAVE GOOD STUFF FOR DINNER AND THEN WE WOULD WATCH A GOOD MOVIE WE BOTH LIKED ON TV. THAT WOULD BE A REALLY PERFECT DAY, BECAUSE FOX IS MY BEST FRIEND. He was crying when he finished. How could she have thought that much of him when he'd always been so mean to her? She must have been the best kid in the whole world. Definitely not one that deserved what had happened to her. At that moment, standing alone on a warm spring morning with his sister's book in his hand and tears running down his face, he made up his mind that he would find her. No matter what. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Another Time and Place Author: Emily Miller ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: Nobody belongs to me. They belong to Chris Carter. CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: A continuation of the story "Before: Memory" It kept coming back to bother him. Remembering something so vividly that had never happened... how had he done that? And why had it been so clear? In her paper, nothing was described. She had only been 7 when she wrote it, after all. Every day, every night, it would fill his head and he would again be in the field, having her give him the flowers and then they would run- and then it would be gone. He could bring it up whenever he wanted to, and sometimes it came when he didn't. He began to notice things he hadn't before. He had never thought to look behind him, even though he was half-controlling his movements. He never asked her where they were. And always, every time, just before it ended she turned her head away from him as though she knew he was leaving. He never knew if it was real or not. Was he just imagining something, to try to make what had happened less horrifying? But how would something that would have happened years ago affect how he felt now? Had it happened in a dream they shared, that he had forgotten but she hadn't, and then she had used it in her essay? But then why hadn't she ever mentioned it to him? So one day he decided to ask. It was during math class, and he worked faster than he ever had in his life to finish his work early. And managed to get himself a whole half hour free. He sat at his desk, closed his eyes, and pretended to be resting until the end of class. Maybe even sleeping. But really, he let his mind wander to the field of flowers. He'd noticed some other flowers that were blue and yellow, but she never picked those. It was always the pink and purple ones. Again, she was wearing the pink sweater and her hair had the same ribbon. And when he got there, she was picking the flowers. Before she had a chance to turn around to give them to him, he turned around. or tried to. Suddenly his head ached and felt impossibly heavy. It didn't want to turn, but he was stubborn enough to make it. And wished he hadn't. Behind him, the field abruptly ended, and there was a plain wall behind him, with only a small door on it. It wasn't real, wherever they were. But he now knew one thing- this couldn't be a memory. He knew they'd never been in a huge room that looked like a field of flowers. "Fox! You looked!" She cried suddenly, and he jumped, surprised to hear her say something different. She hadn't said anything new since the first time he'd come, and the sound of her exasperated voice was enough for him to know he would stay happy for days. "Sam? Are we really here?" He asked, turning back to her. She looked at the ground. "I am. You're just here because I talked them into letting you come here. They said you could as long as you didn't find out where we were." "I still don't know." "You know it's not a real field. Now you'll have to go home and never come back again!" "When?" "I don't know, soon prob'ly." "I'm sorry, Sam... but if it's the last time, let's do things differently." "How?" "Let's just take a walk around the field, talk." "Okay," She smiled, and walked over and took his hand. They walked slowly, and he found himself looking down at her often as they did, trying to remember exactly what she looked like when she did everything- when she was walking, when she jumped up and down as she got excited, when she grinned up at him when he laughed at something she said. "Where did you get those clothes?" Was one of the first things he asked. "They gave them to me. They said I look pretty in them." "You do... for a little sister." "Thanks, Fox." "Mom and Dad kept all your old clothes." "They did? Did they keep all my toys, too?" "Yep." "What's going on at home?" "I don't want to talk about it, Sam. It's not wonderful." "Why?" "Because you're gone, because Mom and Dad are miserable all the time, lots of things." "Tell them I wanna come home, Fox." "I will, Sam, I swear I will." "I miss you guys," She said, and her voice shook. He stopped and stooped down so that he was level with her. She was beginning to cry, and he pulled her close to him for a moment. "I miss you, Sam. But I know you'll come back someday." "I hope so," She said softly. "You will, don't worry. "I love you, Fox." "Don't start THAT. Your essay was bad enough... your best friend..." She giggled through tears. "But I do," She said. "Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, I guess." "Here, keep this," She said, and handed him a flower- a blue one. "I'll keep it until the day you come back. And you keep this," He pulled out a pencil, the only thing he had, from his pocket. "When I get away from here, I'll find you and show this to you and you'll know it's really me." "You do that." "I'll come back when I can." "I know you will." "Hey! Alien boy!" He shook his head, and realized he really HAD fallen asleep. Some idiot from his class was yelling at him. The bell must have rung- the day was over. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving," He informed the boy, who must have been staying after for detention. As he walked home, he thought about what had happened. He MUST have dreamed it, much as he hated that. It would be great if he'd had one last chance, in reality, to talk to her. The afternoon wasn't cold, it was almost hot, but he felt cold anyway, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. And stopped. He pulled his left hand from his pocket and looked at what he had found there. A blue flower. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: Vuestro Para Siempre, Melissa Author: Emily Miller You can have it, if you want, just ask and make sure you leave my name on it. DISCLAIMER: William, Margaret, William (Jr.), Melissa, Dana, and Charles Scully do not belong to me. Gloria does. SPOILERS: none RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: SA SUMMARY: Melissa Scully makes a special friend. NOTE: Not knowing any actual Spanish myself, just getting the Spanish used from a dictionary, thanks to Chris Carkner for correcting my screw ups. :) DEDICATION: To the real Gloria- hope you feel better and can go home soon! Before: Vuestro Para Siempre, Melissa As usual, I almost slept my way through church that Sunday, and that Was how I missed the big announcement. It wasn't until I, only just managing to hear over Dana's yapping at Bill about something and Charles whining about his shoes being too small, overheard Mom and Dad talking in the car that I got the first clue that something very strange was going to happen. Something that would greatly disrupt my life, which was already disrupted quite enough, in my opinion, not that it counted to anyone but myself. "I can't believe nobody will take that poor girl into their home," Dad commented as he drove. The only reason I was able to hear at all was because for once I was sitting between him and Mom, Charles for once being forced to take the seat in the back between the ever-bickering Bill and Dana. I half-glanced at him, not really interested, just needing something to listen to besides my siblings. "I'm sure they'll find SOMEBODY," Mom said, and I could hear in her tone of voice the hint she was dropping to Dad- couldn't WE do it. And I groaned inside, knowing that more likely than not she would talk him into it. Whatever it was. "Maggie, we don't have room..." Dad started to argue. I rolled my eyes. Whenever he trailed off like that, it was because he was trying to fight but didn't have enough to last even the first round. "She can stay with Melissa. Or we can move Melissa in with Dana-" I broke in then, unable to let it go on. "Oh, no... There's no way I'm sharing a room again. Not with Dana, and not with... with whoever it is you're talking about." "Weren't'cha listenin' Missy?" Dana asked. She always called me that, even though she knew that the only person I would let get away with it was Mom. However, I ignored it this time- JUST this time. "Listening when?" I said. "In CHURCH, stupid. They talked about half the time about the girl in Honduras who's got to have surgery." I turned to look at my mother with narrowed eyes. "You want me to share my room with some girl who doesn't even know ENGLISH?" I was being selfish now, and I knew it- and didn't care the slightest bit. Let Dana, who seemed not to care at all that our parents were discussing our final ruination, share a room with this girl. "Missy, honey, we're just talking about it. And even if she does stay with us, she's not really a little girl. She's old enough to know to stay out of your stuff." "Oh, yeah? How old is she?" Mom thought anyone older than the age of 5 would stay out of my stuff, since I'd taught Dana to when she was younger than that. Charles, who was only 6, did anyway- he had no reason to get into 'girl stuff.' And Dana, at 12, still had no desire to mess with my things either, especially not the makeup I had hidden in my desk, under my collection of notebooks that I used as make-shift diaries. But now, for the first time, I didn't have to worry about her in my stuff, anyway- at 14, I had my own room for the first time. With a lock on the door. "She's 23," Mom said. My mouth dropped open, making Charles, who had shut up long enough to listen to us, laugh at me. "Shut up, Charlie," I said. "Melissa..." Mom said in her warning voice, telling me I was the one that had better 'shut up' if I didn't want to get in trouble. "Sorry, Charles," I muttered, then said, "23! Mom, she'd be in all of my stuff. She's probably never seen any of it, and she'll want to know how to use it all, and... and..." I didn't know how to finish. "You really WEREN'T listenin'!" Dana said with a giggle. "It's nothing to laugh about, Starbuck," Dad said. He thought Dana was special or something, giving her that stupid nickname. Well, I wouldn't want to go by a MAN'S name, anyway. But that's Dana. "What's nothing to laugh about?" I asked, suspicious again. "Melissa, I promise she won't be 'going through your stuff'," Mom said. "She's here to have her leg amputated." >>>>>>>> As usual, nobody listened to any of my thoughts- or complaints, as Mom and Dad insisted on calling them- and less than a month later I found myself dragging the boxes of my most important stuff into Dana's room. Dana wasn't any happier about having her space invaded than I was about invading it. She did have bunk beds, Bill and Charles' old ones, before Bill decided he was too old, so a place for me to sleep was no problem. "Your junk has to go over there," she said, pointing to the edge of the beds. She, unlike any normal person under the age of about 30, always had to stay neat. When we'd had to truly share a room before, I'd seriously considered more than once moving in with my brothers instead of trying to keep her happy with my messes. "Yes, ma'am!" I said, saluting her like she always was Dad. She gave me a glare, one thing I admit she can do well. "Mom says if you don't cooperate, you have to go downstairs to the living room and sleep on the couch," she said, crossing her arms. "Just go away for a little while, Dana," I said. "It's MY room." "Fine, don't." I pulled both of the boxes to the 'assigned' spot and turned and left Dana still glaring. Let her stand there and look like an idiot, I was going outside to wait for Mom and Dad to get home with this girl. Her name was Gloria-some-last-name-there-was-no-way-I-could-pronounce. She was from Honduras, where she lived in a mud hut, Dad told me. Some guy on a missionary trip had found her and recommended that she be brought to America to have her leg, which had been deformed or something since she was born, amputated, since it was liable to just get worse. She could hardly walk at all. I was actually a little excited about her coming. People in church the day before had come up to me and said how proud they were of me and how adult of me it was to take that poor girl into my home without a complaint. I didn't tell them, but I HAD complained, and I didn't plan to act at all adult about it, whether Mom and Dad said anything or not. Maybe I was excited about Gloria coming, but that didn't mean I wanted to get kicked out of my room! "Hey, Melissa!" Charles dropped out of the front yard's single tree-worth-climbing so fast and silently that I almost killed myself jumping backwards. My little brother was the most agile person I ever saw outside of the gymnasts from the Olympics. He could climb anything, jump from as high as he wanted without injury, and none of it scared him in the least. Dana had once told me she envied him for that, and I did, too- but I wasn't going to tell HER that. It would satisfy her way too much to know I wasn't as perfect as I liked to think I was. "Don't DO that!" I said, doing what I thought was a pretty credible 'Dana-impression', complete with glare and crossed arms. But Charles didn't believe that I was really angry, like he would have if it had truly been Dana. He laughed at me and trotted close enough to grab my arm and swing from it as best he could, since he was almost as tall as I was. I was short then, he was tall- for his age. He'd already caught up with Dana, much to her dismay. "When're Mom'n Dad gonna get here?" he asked. I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like a clamp or something. He wouldn't let go and my jerking just allowed him to swing harder, which was really beginning to hurt my arm. "Get off." "Why?" "Because that hurts." He did as told, sliding his hand down my arm to hold my own hand. Charles was the baby of the family, and tried to show it every chance he got by being the most affectionate. While Bill, Dana, and I almost never touched each other when we had a choice, Charles was always holding hands or hugging somebody or, like he'd been doing me, swinging on somebody's arm. I sometimes thought there had been a real mix-up at the hospital. He even had blond hair, and neither Mom nor Dad had any idea who he'd gotten it from. All Scully's before either had red or reddish-brown hair. Mom said that, if he didn't get more 'Scullyish' soon, she was going to have to agree with me about a mix-up and go try to find her real son. "So when're they gonna get here?" he asked again. I shrugged. "Why would I know any more than you?" "'Cause you're older." "That doesn't mean I'm clairvoyant!" "What's clear... clari... claravooyent?" "Clairvoyant. I can't tell the future." He was about to ask another question when we saw a very easy to recognize car stop in front of the house. "Mom'n Dad are here!" He cried, running to the car to greet them. I started to go forward with him, but saw Dad get out and point him back to where I stood. He trudged back to me. "Dad says go back inside for now," he said. I shrugged, didn't argue with either him or Mom and Dad, and followed him into the house. We sat on the couch in the living room, where we could see our parents and Gloria out the window. Gloria, thankfully, had already had her surgery. Mom had stayed with her for the last 4 days in the hospital, unable to come home since Gloria had apparently decided MY mother was the closest thing to HER mother she was going to find while in America. I hadn't seen my own mother in almost a week, and even then she was only a few miles away. Dad had tried to keep us entertained, but really wasn't used to it, and didn't do a wonderful job of it. He got exasperated too quickly. I knew where Dana had gotten it from. I think he was glad that Mom was going to be back today. Charles and I watched as Mom got out of the car and went over to open the trunk and get out a walker, one that had belonged to Grandma before she'd died the year before. Gloria could use it to walk until she got one of those fake legs, a couple of days before she went home. She was only staying with us a week, then was going to a children's hospital closer to the border of the country, even though she WAS 23. They thought the people there would take better care of her, help her get used to the new leg. After the walker was out and ready, Mom carried it to the door of the backseat and held it steady while Dad opened the door. I caught my breath without thinking, and heard 3 others do the same. Glancing backwards, I saw Bill and Dana had joined us, Dana on the couch beside Charles, Bill leaning against the side. No air was breathed as we saw Dad reach a hand into the car and help a girl, short, but not as short as Mom or Dana or me, out of the car. Her skin was dark, her hair black. She was leaning on Dad until she managed to lean enough on the walker that she could support herself. The whole time, she looked at the ground. Held air was released. >>>>>>>> I felt out of place almost immediately. Bill, Dana, and Charles immediately latched on to Gloria, who seemed really nice, but almost frighteningly shy. They spent most of their free time attempting to talk to her with the use of a Spanish-English dictionary, and Dana actually did a pretty good job. I stayed as far away from all of them as possible. I knew that Gloria was an adult, even if she pretended to like my brothers and sister. Adults were good at that, but I wasn't going to have anybody pretending to like me. She scared me as much as she worried me. Mom had made us all go say 'hello'- or, rather, 'hola'- the first day she was there, after we got her comfortable in my room. I had stayed as far back as possible while first Dana, then Bill, and finally Charles went forward to speak to her. She smiled at them all, though she couldn't understand any of them. Typical adult. I squirmed as she stared at me, as though wishing I would come to her, like I was special or something. She gave me a small, shy smile, then quickly turned back to where Dana was chattering at the side of the bed. I left. Most of the next week I spent in Dana's room, reading or anything to keep me quiet and by myself. No friends were allowed over, just in case they disturbed Gloria, so I was alone except the one time I went to a friend's house for the afternoon. The last night Gloria was staying with us, Dana walked into our room, looking confused. I was reading 'Oliver Twist' for school, but it didn't take much to pull me away when she came in. It was the dumbest book I'd ever read. "Hey, Missy?" Dana said. "What?" I asked, yawning and closing the book. "Gloria gave this to me. I think she wants me to give it to you." She handed me a note, written on a sheet of paper that I knew came from one of MY NOTEBOOKS because the lines were purple instead of blue. Gloria had been going through my stuff. But I opened it anyway. Querida Melisa, Aunque no vienes a visitarme, me gustas mucho. Eres muy bonita (o linda). Ojala te gustase, y tuviese lo que t£ tienes. Me fascinan tus hojas p£rpura. Ojala tuviese cuadernos como los tuyos. Y siento haber entrado a tu cuarto (o dormitorio). Nadie me lo dijo, yo sabia. Creo que eres muy dulce (o tierna) al dejarme Con carino, Gloria I struggled to read it for a minute, but the only thing I understood was her trying to spell my name. "Dana, can you read this?" I finally asked, handing it back to her. She studied it. "I can see some 'I's and 'You's and I think 'dormitorio' means your room." "Where's the dictionary?" She reached over to her desk and grabbed the worn book, then gave it to me along with the note. "You translate it, I've got homework." She left me alone to do just that. I worked over an hour, but when I was done, it was worth it. Dear Melissa, Although you do not come see me, I like you a lot. You are very pretty. I wish I could live like you, have the things you have. I especially like your purple papers. I wish I had notebooks like yours. And I am sorry I have taken your bedroom. Nobody told me, I just know. I think you are very sweet to let me. Love, Gloria I almost cried as I read it, something Dana would have called me 'stupidly sentimental' for. I had ignored Gloria all week, done all I could to let her know I didn't particularly like her, and she had written me one of the nicest notes I'd ever received. Leaving Dana's room, I went down to my own room, but the door was closed, meaning Gloria was asleep. She was leaving early the next morning. I wasn't ever going to see her again. I ran on the way back to Dana's room, although I had all night- it was Friday. But I felt the need to hurry. I went to the boxes, still sitting beside the beds, of my stuff, and dug through them until I found the only unused notebook I had in my possession. Then I tore a sheet of paper out of a used one and sat on the bed to do some serious work involving the dictionary. By the time Dana came up to bed, I was finished. And outside the door to my room was a small package, wrapped very carefully with the paper Mom saved for birthday presents. Inside was the notebook and a note. Estimado Gloria, Yo de veras pensamiento vuestro billete a me agradable. Yo estacionamiento lejos de les porque yo pensamiento les dignidad non parejo me, o dignidad razonar yo acto parejo una parvulo nino. Actualmente estas yo visitar les dignidad non, sus demasiado tarde. Asi aqui una regalo, solamente asi les voluntad saber yo parejo les, demasiado. Hasta vez terminar, yo voluntad amonestarles. Vuestro Para Siempre, Melissa I never found out what happened, because, like Mom and Dad had said, Gloria was gone by the time I got up the next morning. The package was gone, and Mom claimed she had seen Gloria get it from the floor and heard her saying something happily from the back. I guess I'll never know what truly happened. But that's okay. Because that way I can make up my own 'happy ending'. >>>>>>>> Author's note:One of the dumbest yet! I just had to write something after my experience with the real Gloria, who this story was really about (with Melissa substituting for me, since I couldn't see Dana in a role where she wouldn't want try to talk to Gloria). Melissa's letter was supposed to say (and I may have screwed something up, I don't take Spanish until next year) Dear Gloria, I really thought your note to me was nice. I stayed away from you because I thought you would not like me, or would think I acted like a little kid. Now that I see you would not, it's too late. So here is a gift, just so you will know I like you, too. Until time ends, I will remember you. Yours forever, Melissa ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Before: : Abbi Author: Emily Miller Put it wherever you want it. DISCLAIMER: Alex Krycek and Fox Mulder belong to Chris Carter. All others are mine. CLASSIFICATION: VA Pre-XF RATING: PG SPOILERS: none SUMMARY: A death affects a life forever... DEDICATION: For Anna B., whose name is used. You may be a little mixed up about whether or not X-Files is worth watching, but you're really okay. I can just hope you don't read this (if you ever DO start liking X-Files) and kill me. :) Alex bit the eraser of his pencil, trying to make himself think harder. Homework, at the beginning of first grade, had been new and fun and exciting and a really neat challenge- but now he understood what his big sister Anna meant when she complained the whole time she worked on her math and English and science and History and whatever else she had. Anna was 12, which meant she argued about a lot of things. Alex didn't like her much, and he didn't like his 9-year-old brother Robby, either, or baby Marilyn. The one he liked was Abbi- his twin. FRATERNAL twin, Anna had told, Trying to sound so old and smart. He knew what fraternal was; unlike a lot of things Anna said to him. When he didn't know what she meant, he ignored her. Abbi had finished her homework at school, and so was outside playing. By herself. She was waiting for him. Since they'd started school, they'd gotten even closer than they'd ever been. First grade had suddenly thrust them into a world of strange kids who didn't like them much, because their parents had lots of money and everybody knew it. He took the eraser out of his mouth, wiped it on his shirt to get all the spit off, and erased the letters he had just written. Something looked wrong. He had trouble with letters, sometimes. It was getting better- he knew how many little lines 'E' had now and which way 'S' faced and the difference between little 'b's and 'd's or 'p's and 'q's. But sometimes he messed up. Mouthing the words to himself, he read the title of his essay and what he had written so far. MY FAVORITE PERSON IS... My favorite person is my sister Abbi. She is my twin sister. She is almost a half a hour older then me. She dosnt care if i'm yunger than her, thogh. My big sister Anna ses she shud care thogh, because older means shes better than me. She dosnt think so thogh. Were always nice to each other, even after we fite. It looked like it was enough already to him. He put his pencil down and put his finger in his mouth. It hurt where the pencil had rubbed against it when he was writing. When the hurt had gone down enough that he was no longer seriously injured, he reached the same hand up to push his long hair- it was past his ears now, his dad and mom were too busy to take him to get it cut- and got up to go outside and join Abbi. He paused in the front hall long enough to call up the stairs, "Mom! Dad! I'm going outside with Abbi!" His parents were some kind of government people. They weren't home a lot, but today they both were, and so worked in their upstairs offices. "Have fun!" his mom called. His dad didn't say anything, so he assumed it was okay with both of them and jerked as hard as he could on the heavy front door to get it open. Abbi was outside, sitting on the grass, busy cutting the hair off one of Anna's best dolls. Her brown hair, the exact same color as Alex's, was in pigtails and hung down in her face as she worked. When she heard him and looked up, her face was streaked with dirt from an hour outside, her eyes shining like they always seemed to. Alex, even though he was only 7 and they were siblings, besides, knew she was what one-day people would call 'beautiful'. He wasn't sure he liked the idea, but for now she was just a kid like him. "Hi, Alex," she said, grinning. She had already lost one of her front teeth, proving that she truly WAS half an hour older. He had pushed his own front teeth with his tongue for ours after she'd lost it, but neither would even wiggle. For a while then, he had felt like a true younger sibling, not her equal. The way he always felt around Anna and Robby. "Hi. Whatcha doin'?" He sat beside her in the grass and gave her work on the doll a much closer inspection. It looked pretty good to him. Anna would yell and scream a lot, then run off the complain to anyone who would listen that Alex and Abbi were more trouble than they were worth- which wasn't much! "Killing Donkey," Abbi said. She snipped a little more hair with her kindergarten scissors, the kind you supposedly could do no more than make a mark on paper with. Abbi, and Alex too, was a scissors expert. They spent a lot of time ruining Anna's dumb stuff. The dolls real name wasn't Donkey, it was something long and weird. Anna told them it was French. But, since it started with a 'D', they called it Donkey. She also had dolls named Pig, Monkey, and Cow. Dodo and Shark were now extinct, after their arms and legs had been ripped off. By Abbi and Alex, of course. They didn't bother Robby as much as they did Anna, because Robby usually left them alone. He spent a lot of time with all his friends or in his room, reading or drawing or something. And of course they didn't do much to Marilyn, because she was only a baby, and so didn't have much that could be messed up. 'Terror Twins' was what their mom had called them, before she got really busy with work. Alex had liked the name, and wished somebody would call them that now. But the only time they saw their mom was when she came downstairs or home just long enough to make sure they had food and were going to bed on time and doing homework. Alex sighed as he remembered the days of the year before, right before his mom had been chosen or however she got her job. She had been really excited about it, and so had taken them all out to eat and didn't even care when Alex and Abbi threw food at Anna, making Anna scream. "What's wrong?" Abbi asked, holding Donkey up so he could see the job she'd done. "Nothin'... that's real good." "Go get a marker and we can make her eyes black." He shook his head. "I don't wanna play out here anymore. Let's-" Before he could finish, Anna showed up. She'd been gone all day with her friends, seeing a movie or something. She saw Donkey in Abbi's hand and screeched. "Like what we did to Donkey, An-na?" Abbi asked, smiling up at Anna. Alex decided to keep quiet, wanting to live long enough to finish school and be a policeman. "You little jerks! You can't just... just ruin my STUFF!" Anna jerked Donkey from Abbi and looked the doll over, then threw it at the house. "Can too," Alex said, enjoying himself now. Anna was funny when she got mad. "I bet this was your fault," Anna said, and at first Alex thought she was talking to him. He wouldn't have said anything anyway, but felt a little relieved to see she was looking at Abbi. "So what?" Abbi asked, crossing her arms and standing up to be closer to eye-level with Anna. "So WHAT? You're a little brat, that's what," Anna said. Then she hit Abbi. For the first time either Abbi or Alex could remember, someone in their own family hit one of them. Abbi, tears coming to her eyes, looked at Anna with disbelief. Anna glared back, and Abbi sniffed once before a tear began to slowly move down her cheek. "Alex, come on. We're going to get Mom," Anna said, thinking, for some reason, that Alex was innocent. She took his arm so he couldn't get away and dragged him to the house. "I don't wanna go," Alex said, trying to pull away. "Alex, don't go!" Abbi wailed, but not coming after them. "If you go, I'm running away from home and leaving you here!" Alex struggled harder, but still couldn't get away. Anna got the door open and shoved him inside, closing it and locking it before she let him go. "You go wait for me to get Mom and Dad," she said. He ignored her, running for the door and trying to reach the lock to get it open. Through the window, he saw Abbi looking at the house one last time before turning and trudging away. She was really leaving. Even crossing the street, something neither was allowed to do without permission first. Anna was already on her way upstairs when it happened. He was still glued to the window as Abbi stepped out on the street, eyes still on the ground. The car came too fast for her to do anything. She looked up for a second, and Alex thought he could feel her terror. "ABBI!" He shouted as loud as he could, kicking the door now, trying to get it open. He saw Abbi's body hit by the car, saw the car just keep going as Abbi fell to the grass on the other side of the road. "ABBI! MOM! DAD! ABBI NEEDS HELP!" When his mom finally came out, being pulled by Anna, she was greeted with the sight of her younger son intent on beating the door down. "Alexander Krycek, what are you DOING?" she asked. "Abbi! Abbi's hurt!" was all he could say, still jerking the door, kicking it, beating on it. "Hurt?" He didn't hear her. "Abbi! Don't move, Abbi, Mom's coming out to help!" And his mom was, gently moving him from the door, looking out, and, after a gasp, unlocking it and running towards the street where Abbi lay. Alex followed as fast as his 7-year-old legs could go. "Abbi! Mom's coming!" he repeated. He and his mom reached Abbi at about the same time, but Alex was the first to fall by her side. There was blood- out her mouth, her nose, her ear... she didn't move, not even when he shook her. "Abbi, get up now. It's okay, we're not in trouble." Nothing. She didn't listen to him. He shook her harder and her head rolled in a way that made his neck hurt. "Alex, let's go inside and call 911," his mom said. He shook his head and didn't move even when she stood up. "Alex, the longer we wait, the worse its going to be," his mom's voice sounded weird. Choked, maybe, or thicker than normal. "But Abbi-" he looked up at her and saw she was crying. Reluctantly, he let go of Abbi's arm, not knowing he would never touch her- or even see her- again, and went with his mom inside. >>>>>>>> At the funeral, he was told how sorry everybody was by a million adults, but he ignored them all. He ignored everybody for most of the rest of the year, not speaking unless he absolutely had to. He never spoke unless he had too, never again. Except to Abbi. He grew older, reaching the age of 8, then 9, 10, 11, 12... and still, every day he went to see Abbi. When he was 14, he was informed that they were moving to Washington, D.C. Something about his parents' jobs. He went to visit Abbi for the last time the day before they left. His voice was different now than it had been when he was 7, but he was sure she could still understand who it was. As he knelt beside the gravestone bearing the name 'Abigail Bethany Krycek', he remembered, once again, that last day. "Hey, Abbi," he greeted. "This is the last time for a while. Mom and Dad are taking us- Robby, Marilyn, Jennie, and me, since Anna's still at college- to live in D.C. I'm gonna miss you, but I promise I'll still visit whenever I get the chance, 'kay? And I won't ever forget you, I swear on that. You'll always be remembered, if only by your dumb brother." "Alex! Come on, its time to go!" Robby was yelling from nearby. "See ya, Abbi." He got up and brushed off his jeans. >>>>>>>> He'd been told to 'win Mulder over.' Wasn't HE lucky. He wasn't great at talking to people. It was at times like this that, even more than 20 years later, he wished with all his heart that Abbi was there for him to talk to or call or something. He knew she would have words to make him feel better. With a shrug only for himself, he went off in search of this 'Fox Mulder.'