An Unchanged Soul
Chapter Five


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"Dana, I'm not a doctor."

Emma couldn't help but reiterate her trepidation
about the main reason Fox wanted her to bring Dana
home this evening.  Dana had tried her best to
explain that it was likely to end up amounting to
nothing at all, seeing as how Sam hadn't reacted so
far to any mention of a woman named Dana.  Of
course, he hadn't known her name when she saw him
last at Los Banos, but the chance he'd recognize
her after all this time was slim to none.

But just in case, Emma was along to forestall any
medical complications.  She couldn't argue with the
fact that Dana was in no condition to come to Sam's
aid should he need it, and carrying him back to the
hospital just to have a doctor close by was bound
to arouse his suspicion.  If all went well, the
introductions would be made and Sam would go on
thinking of Dana as Fox's wife, period.  That would
buy them time to investigate just how he'd managed
to disappear for two years without a trace.

"Emma, there's more at stake here than Sam's well-
being."  Dana slipped on her gloves, her face
pinched with worry.

Emma set the brake and killed the motor before
turning to face her cousin.  "Why do I get the
feeling you're about to tell me something I don't
want to hear?"

Dana sighed, looking up at the blazing lights of
the house.  "Mulder already believes the man in
there is Sam.  No question."

A trickle of dread climbed up Emma's spine.  "And
you?"

"I just find it hard to believe he shows up after
two years with not even an inkling of where he's
been."

"Dana, amnesia is a very real condition."

"You don't have to tell me that, Emma.  In Sam's
case, I hope it's genuine.  But I really don't know
the man; I've never even met him.  All I have are
Mulder's memories to rely upon."

"Mulder wouldn't let Sam near you if he was a
threat."

"What if he's a threat and doesn't know it
himself?"

Emma's eyes widened with surprise.  "You mean -"

"Brainwashing."  Dana scooted a bit to face Emma
directly, her worry evident in the crease of her
brow.  "Emma, I saw many forms of torture in Los
Banos.  I saw men whipped and forced to do things
they would never do otherwise.  I saw fine, healthy
men reduced to mindless zombies who could only
utter 'yes' to every command in Japanese."

"You think Sam may have been held somewhere all
this time?  His mind wiped clean?  For what
purpose?"

It was as if it pained Dana to say it.  "Chang. 
They never found his body, you know."

"Oh, come *on*, Dana."

"I'm not joking, Emma.  Men like Chang are very
real and very hard to stop."

Emma swallowed hard, speechless at the possibility. 
It was too far-fetched, too surreal to consider. 
Dana and Fox were used to espionage and all things
top secret, but she, like ninety-nine percent of
the population, happily buried her head in the sand
as far as true evil was concerned.  There were men
in the government who took care of such things. 
Men like Charlie and that nice Commander Skinner,
and... Fox.

Fox, who had a crazed Chinaman lie in wait almost a
year to take his revenge.  Fox, who had to watch
that same Chinaman kidnap Dana and threaten to take
her halfway around the world to become - God, she
couldn't even think it.  Fox, who was still so deep
into that very same spy stuff none of her family
knew exactly what the hell his job was these days.

"Okay," she said slowly, "maybe it's not so
fantastic after all.  What do you want me to do?"

"You?  Emma, I can't ask you to get involved in
this."

"Why not?  You said yourself Fox already believed
Sam was the real deal.  Who else can you turn to? 
Commander Skinner?  He'd have Fox and Sam in his
office in the bat of an eye and you know it.  Then,
if it all turns out to be nothing, you'll have one
very angry husband."

"I know." Dana dropped her chin.  "I'm probably
just suffering from an overdose of hormones. 
Forget it."

Emma grabbed Dana's hand.  "No, I won't forget it. 
You obviously feel something about Sam is very
wrong; it's up to us to figure out what it is. 
Deal?"

Dana squeezed the fingers holding hers with a small
smile.  "If we get into any trouble, we call
Skinner immediately, got it?"

"Got it."  Though she was still a bit cautious
about the whole idea, she felt a thrill steel her
shoulders.  She trusted Dana's judgment and figured
there was a grain of truth to her suspicions.  The
way Sam had just surfaced out of nothing, naked as
the day he was born, was enough to arouse doubt in
the most trustworthy of people.  Still, having seen
him and spoken to him, she didn't think he was up
to anything nefarious.  It would make for one
interesting escapade, however.  Something her
boring life desperately needed.  "So what's the
plan?"

"I want you to examine him."

Emma pulled her hand away.  "What?"  Great.  Just
when she had the chance to build some defenses
against the guy via street clothes, Dana wanted to
subject her to the full naked glory once again. 
"We examined him last night at the hospital."

"Did you see a scar on his chest from a bullet
wound?"

To tell the truth, she'd not been looking except
for a quick scan for bruises.  Remarkably, Sam was
virtually untouched from his collision with the
automobile.

"I thought so."

"Dana, I wasn't exactly looking for bullet wound
scars, you know."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem to find one, should
it?"

"But won't you get confirmation when Sam's
fingerprint records arrive?  And what about the x-
ray Monday?"

"Both of which will probably prove me wrong.  But I
know what I saw, Emma.  Sam - if that is Sam at all
- was shot right in front of me."

"Now you're saying it may not even be him?"  This
was getting more ridiculous by the moment.  Emma
wondered if Dana's hormones had taken over control
of her faculties.  "That's impossible."

"Think about it, Emma.  Chang survives the
explosion.  He lays low, finds out all he can about
Mulder, how Sam was missing and presumed dead at
Los Banos.  He finds someone who looks enough like
Sam to be believable - or changes his face with
plastic surgery until it's perfect - and sends him
here to kill Mulder.  Mulder hasn't seen his
brother in six years, Emma.  The real Sam was
barely twenty-six when he left for war.  Still a
young man."

"You've been hanging around Fox too long."

"Just do me this one favor and look.  Please?"

Emma couldn't resist the pleas of a pregnant woman. 
Especially if that woman was her favorite cousin in
the whole world.  Her best friend, really.

"Damn."  Dana's expletive made Emma look up.  "Here
comes Mulder.  Emma, please?"

She sighed, recognizing the worry Dana had for her
husband and her baby.  It would all amount to
nothing, anyway.  "Okay.  But this is weird, Dana. 
Really weird."

"And a dead brother showing up after two years
isn't?"  Dana reached for the door handle,
schooling her face into a smile for Fox.

"What are you two up to in there?  It's freezing,
Scully."  Fox's teasing had a quiet, worried edge. 
But he looked like a kid at Christmas, all smiles
and hopeful thoughts of candy and gifts.  "C'mon -
I want you to meet Sam."

She had to admit, Dana had a point.  From his whole
demeanor, Fox had already accepted the man inside
as kin, and therefore, beyond reproach. Reaching
for the small bag of medical supplies she'd brought
with her, she took a deep breath and prepared to
face the mysterious Sam once again.


**********


He stumbled over his own feet before he even made
it to the stairs.  "Shit."  He'd never been clumsy,
but suddenly his legs wouldn't cooperate.  Maybe it
was the new shoes.  Fox's had been pinching him all
day, something he hadn't discovered until the
feeling returned to his toes when he took them off
earlier.

A pair of feminine voices drifted up the stairs,
stopping him cold.

"So where is he?"  Emma.  Even the sound of her
voice had the power to make his stomach sink to his
knees.  Damn, he must be more starved for a woman
than he thought if just that simple question felt
like a kiss.  "Don't tell me - he's out wrestling
with the cars on the street.  And just when I
decided to park it, too."

Yep, that was her all right.

"Emma."  Softly chastising, the other female chimed
in.  This tone was equally pleasant, maybe just a
bit lower.  A chill skittered over his skin and he
hovered on the second floor landing.

"You okay, Scully?"  Fox's muffled question told
Sam he had his arms around the source of that
gentle voice.  His brother had it bad.  'Scully?' 
Talk about henpecked, if she made him call her by
her maiden name.

"I'm fine, Mulder.  Just a bit tired.  And in need
of the bathroom.  I'll be back in a bit."

He heard two pairs of footsteps go down the
hallway; Fox was such a worry wart, following his
wife like that.  But Sam wasn't about to let the
opportunity slide for some one-on-one with the
prickly Emma.  Silent as a cat, he slipped down the
stairs to see his prey shrugging off her coat.

"You might want to keep that on," he said,
gratified to see her jerk with surprise.

"And why is that?"  Good recovery, he thought,
watching the invisible walls go up in a flash.

"Well, I'm here." He spread his arms wide.  "And
ready to wrestle.  No can do on the car.  Gives you
an unfair advantage."  Winking, he added, "I'm
willing to strip to give you a head start if you
want."

"Oooh..." Emma sputtered, her already cold-pinked
cheeks becoming a splash of furious red. "You - you
-"

"Handsome devil?" he prompted, moving closer to
help her with her coat.

"Don't touch me, ya rogue."

Ah, that's what he wanted to hear.  That hint of a
brogue meant he was getting to her, big time.  What
did they say about the line between love and hate? 
Thin.  Mighty thin.

Now that he'd riled her a bit, it was time to back
down and play the gentleman.

"C'mon, doll." She didn't move away from his
advance this time, letting him take her coat.  She
looked good enough to eat, her dress a soft shade
of navy wool that flared softly above those strong
calves.  He averted his eyes from her generous
bosom a split second before she looked his way; it
wouldn't do to be caught mentally undressing her
after he'd done it once already today.  Gulping
down the urge to smooth his hands over the flare of
her hips, he said in a hoarse voice, "I don't have
all that much to laugh about these days, so gimme a
break."

Playing on sympathy was something he'd learned at
an early age.  He didn't take advantage all that
often, only when circumstances threatened to hold
him accountable for a misdeed.  His good looks and
charm held sway with most women, especially his
mother.  However, he'd always stopped short of
making Fox take the heat when they were kids.  If
there was one thing he was proud of, it was that
he'd learned courage at his brother's side.  He
never had a problem diminishing his preferred
status in his parents' eyes by admitting to his
transgressions. *When* Fox allowed it.

His smile faded a bit as he hung Emma's coat on the
rack in the foyer.  Fox hadn't told him everything,
he was certain of it.  Hearing the news of his
parents' death was bad enough, but instinct told
him far worse awaited him.  Getting Fox to stop
babying him long enough to spill it would be the
hard part.  With the wife and Emma now in the
house, there was no way he was ever going to
squeeze the truth from his brother.  Not tonight,
anyway.

"Sam?  Anything wrong?"

Emma's anger had quickly turned to concern.  What
was wrong?  Oh, not much, he wanted to sneer.  Just
a bad case of amnesia he felt was one step away
from insanity.  Oh yeah - and he felt like he
walked in another man's body.  Not much.  Just give
the poor guy a cup o'joe and he'd be fine.

God, when had he become such a misfit?

He let the lost look he knew blossomed on his face
die, and he faced her with a renewed smile.  One
that didn't quite reach his eyes, but he gave it
the old college try in the face of her sudden
seriousness.

"Nothing," he said, his voice sounding louder than
normal to his ears.  Stuffing his shaky hands in
his trouser pockets, he added, "I'm just nervous
about meeting the new Mrs. Mulder, that's all."

Emma unwrapped her scarf, twisting it in her hands
as if she shared his anxiety.  "Dana's a wonderful
person, Sam.  She loves Mulder very much."

His smile twisted into a grimace; he brushed past
Emma to the bar nestled in a shadowed corner of the
living room.  "Am I the only one who calls him Fox? 
Since when did he become 'Mulder'?"  Fox was Fox,
period.  Didn't matter if he was married, with a
child on the way. 

Hell yes, it mattered.  It mattered a great deal,
because it was different.  He'd lost everything in
the blink of a two-year-old parachute jump.  As far
as he was concerned, he was still holding on to
those ropes - still waiting to land in a familiar
place.  Inwardly cursing his clumsy hands, Sam took
his time pouring a small splash of scotch in a
tumbler.

In seconds, Emma stood beside him, taking the glass
from his hand with a severe, "That won't help."

He snatched it back with a dark look.  "Like hell
it won't."  Defiantly, he dared her to object as he
knocked it back like a pro.  He should know how to
drink with the best - he'd done his fair share
before and during the war.  He wasn't Bill Mulder's
son for nothing.

"You just got out of the hospital.  You shouldn't
be drinking."  As calm as she was angry moments
ago, she reverted to nurse mode.  Something which
made him more angry than ever.  "If you need to
talk to someone -"

"I'm not fucking crazy!" he almost shouted, though
he felt like that final step was closer than ever. 
He poured another drink, this one deeper and
guaranteed to take the edge off.  It went down in a
tasteless blur.

Arms akimbo, Emma barked, "Fine.  Greet your
brother's wife with whiskey on your breath.  Make a
great first impression!"

"What do you think I am?  A gorilla?  I'd never say
or do anything to hurt my brother's wife."

"Dana, bless her heart, would never condemn you. 
But you'd embarrass your brother this way?"

Slamming his glass down, he reached for the woman
who faced him.  Exhilaration surged through him,
along with a good dose of frustration.  He should
just kiss her and be done with it.  Shut that sassy
mouth the only way he knew how.  God knew he wanted
to, had wanted to from the moment he saw her.  It
was good to know one thing hadn't changed - a
pretty woman still had power over him.  Second only
to his love for baseball, the scent and feel of a
woman made him heady with excitement.  He didn't
know if leather and horsehide would still arouse
the same passion for the game.  But did women smell
the same?  Did women still taste the same?  Whiskey
sure as hell didn't.  Though a rush of intoxication
made him sway; whether from the alcohol or her
nearness, he wasn't sure.  In either case, his
tongue slurred his words.

"Why can't you be her?"  It wasn't what he wanted
to say, but it escaped on its own.  An instant of
relief at the confession made him relax and let go
of his anger.

Why couldn't she?  She looked enough like her, had
blue eyes almost the same color as the sky.  Maybe
if he pretended the woman before him was the one he
remembered last, he could open the door to those
missing years.  Make everything normal again.

"Her?"  Confusion clouded those eyes, just as it
had on that dusty February morning.

"Red.  I remember Red.  She would know what
happened, wouldn't she?  My Red."  It was a thread
of hope he held on to, a flash of color in an
otherwise yellowish memory.  His hands released her
shoulders to cup her face.  "I know you aren't
her... but damn it, why can't you be?  For just one
minute.  One lousy minute."

Those eyes widened for a moment, then just as
quickly filled with tears.  "Oh, Sam..." she
breathed, her hands settling at his waist as if to
draw him into an embrace.

Heart pounding, he let her come closer.  Maybe it
*was* her, despite all the evidence to the
contrary.  Maybe he'd had one stroke of luck in an
otherwise dismal day -

"Hey - I let you get away with it earlier, because
you were in the hospital.  But now, you're treading
dangerous ground, Sam.  She has nine brothers, you
know."

At the sound of Fox's voice, Emma pulled away,
despite Sam's attempts to hold on to her.  Head
lowered, he felt her move around him and address
the untimely intrusion.

"He's a bit nervous, Mulder," she said lightly, as
if the scene meant nothing more than that.  "I told
him he looks fine, though.  Charming as ever.  Good
thing I'm immune or I'd be in serious trouble." 
She laughed, an easy return to normalcy he envied.

Sam shifted, giving the two his back as he wiped at
his face with an unsteady hand.  He wished he had
Emma's knack for recovery.  He wanted to take that
step back from the precipice he felt dangerously
close to stepping over.  Damn his queasy stomach
and rubbery legs.

"Dana okay?"  Emma again.  She was good, he had to
admit.  She would have made an excellent actress.

"She's fine.  Coming right out."

The wife.  Jesus.  Sam took a moment to compose
himself, breathing deeply.  The earth beneath his
feet felt soft, refusing to lend support to his
body.  Thank goodness Emma was in control, because
he felt like screaming.  Forcing a calm he didn't
feel, he latched on to Fox's last statement.  "Nine
brothers?  Am I going to need backup to get in the
door?"  He turned to face a new chapter of his
life.

Fox stood in the living room doorway, his tall form
blocking the entrance of a skirted pair of slender
legs.  "Mulder?" came the soft entreaty from
beyond.

Sam's heart skipped a beat.  He knew that voice.

<Still.  Be still.>

He couldn't move, couldn't speak.  He could only
stare as Fox moved aside to let his wife pass.  She
stepped forward with a wary smile, her hand offered
in greeting.  "My name is Dana.  You must be Sam."

She looked just as unsure as he was certain he'd
found his missing link.  There could be no other
with eyes like that, with a face like that.

With a pregnant belly like that.  He swallowed,
knowing his day just hit rock bottom.  Smiling, he
folded his hand around her small one.  "Don't tell
me," he said, amazed at how normal he sounded.  Did
she know him like he knew her?  Only one way to
find out without making Fox suspicious.  "You're a
Dodger fan.  Must be fate."  The words made him
shiver as they echoed about the room; he'd said the
same to her long ago, word for word.

A flash of something - recognition, maybe,
mistrust, definitely - colored her face.  But she
recovered quickly, disconnecting the handshake as
she moved to his brother's side.  Taking Fox's hand
in her own, she leveled a steady gaze at Sam.  "I
am.  Is that so bad?"

She knew.  And she'd made a bold statement with her
stance, daring Sam to make a scene.  He sucked in a
swift breath, glancing at Fox, who remained unmoved
by the unfolding drama.  "You couldn't find a
Yankees fan?" he asked, giving his voice a sneering
edge designed to mask his riotous emotions.

"Sam?"  Confused, Fox took a small step forward.

Sam saw the sympathy behind Fox's guarded eyes and
snapped.  "What now?  What else are you gonna take
away from me?"

"Sam -"

"It's not enough I can't remember the past two
years?"  He no longer had control of his tongue;
harsh anger and real fear flushed his skin.  He
felt hot and betrayed, with a million invisible
pins pricking his body.  "Why'd you bother?  Why
bring me here?  Go on, God damn it!  Call in the
straightjacket!"

A softer voice penetrated his misery.  "Sam, it's
not like that."  He looked down into Emma's sad
gaze.

"It isn't?  Then why didn't any of you tell me?" 
Her hand touched his arm, but he jerked away,
listening to their silence with a heavy heart.
"Leave me alone.  Just leave me the hell alone."

Fox's "Sam!" followed him down the hall and up the
stairs.  He heard Dana mutter something about
letting him go, something about it taking time for
him to come to terms with all that had happened,
blah, blah, blah.

All he knew was it was her.  And she belonged to
the one man in the world he could never compete
with - someone he wouldn't hurt for anything or
anyone, though he just had, with a handful of angry
words.  He woke up this morning thinking all he had
left was a memory of a beautiful angel.  Even if he
never found her, no one could take that away from
him.

How wrong he'd been.  Now he had nothing.


End Chapter Five