Title: My Father's Stars Author: Lola Ravenhill Rating: PG-13 Category: Story, Angst Keywords: Alternate Universe Spoilers: Requiem Summary: Family has a tendency to drive people right to the breaking point. Drew Skinner is no exception to that rule. In taking a break from Searching for Avalon to do a little bit of research, I decided to write this for the IWTB birthday challenge. Happy second anniversary IWTB! :-) I haven't decided where this story veered into Alternate Universe territory. It could have gone that way right after Requiem, but at the latest, after Per Manum. This Is Not Happening and anything after that never happened in this universe. Also, it's pretty much a necessity to have read the other three My Father stories before reading this one. You can find them at www.geocities.com/lolaravenhill/mf.html Feedback: Is like chocolate chip cookies to my soul. Feed me at RhiaRamsay@aol.com Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize from XF episodes aren't mine. Technically, Drew isn't either (he was conceived by CC and Co) but his personality is mine and I'm sorta attached to him. ;-) Anyone whose name wasn't mentioned during the run of XF is mine. Archiving: Up until Aug. 11, IWTB only. After that I'll send to Gossamer, Ephemeral can have it also. Anyone else please ask me for permission. I like to see where my stories go (they're the closest thing I have to kids right now, and I'm an overprotective parent). My Father's Stars Lola Ravenhill Thanksgiving Night, 2017 "You know, of all the places I thought I'd find you, I never pictured this." I looked over at Paulie, her arms braced on either side of the doorway to the small lounge. The lounge was only lit by the muted TV, and so the light from the hallway outside was startling. I smiled wryly and leaned back, my head resting on the top of the couch. "Perks of having a friend whose dad owns a karaoke bar. You can hole up in one of their personal lounges anytime you need." Paulie moved into the small room and sat down on the grey leather couch opposite mine. "I guess this explains why Logan didn't volunteer to find you when your mom was calling up volunteers." I shrugged. "I just needed a break from everything. A few hours where thinking was not a necessity." To be honest, I hadn't been feeling really normal for a while. In September, I found out the double whammy that my parents were getting divorced and that the dad my mom was married to wasn't my real father. Since then, I had been going downhill until I was acting like, in Paulie's words, a 'anti-social, masochistic bastard.' So I was just a little surprised that she had actually volunteered to go look for me. "Is my mom pissed at me?" I asked. "Actually, Drew, she feels a bit guilty. She believes that it was her family that caused you to dash off." "She's right." As far back as I can remember there's been a certain sort of tension between my mom and her family (except with Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jayne. They've always been nice to us.). Only in the past month have I come to know that it's because of my biological father. I've noticed that the tension has gotten worse since Mom announced the divorce. Seems that they like Walter Skinner a hell of a lot more than Fox Mulder. Uncle Bill started ragging on Mom about how she was still besotted by a guy who ran out on her seventeen years ago and hasn't shown his face since. Grandma looked uneasy at his statement, although deep down I think that she sort of agreed, as if to think 'Why would she still want this man who left and never returned'. I wonder if she knows that Fox Mulder didn't leave voluntarily, and that he didn't even know Mom was pregnant at the time. Anyway, Uncle Bill kept being a bastard so I sort of...borrowed...Aunt Jayne's drink and dumped it over his head. It was a dirty martini so he'll be stinking of olive juice all night. I get the feeling that Mom is now regretting having everyone over to our house for Thanksgiving this year. Paulie leaned forward on the couch, and I tried to ignore the fact that this gave me a pretty good view down the v-neck of her shirt. She looked really good tonight. I mean, it's not that she looked bad on ordinary days, but she usually wore ripped up jeans, thrift store tank tops, and makeup only suitable for an anime character. But tonight she had on this black skirt and a green shirt with some funky patterns on it, and she really looked---hell, what I think about is none of your business. "I'm sorry for pulling you away from your family tonight," I said, turning my eyes back towards the ceiling. "It's no big deal," she said. "I was going to your place anyway for dessert." Paulie suddenly grinned, pulling at one of the long ropes of black pearls around her neck. "Besides, you saved me from one of the worst meals in a long time. Because of my mom's health food kick, she banned turkey tonight and is serving salmon instead. Ugggghhh." She stood up and walked over to my couch, perching down on it. "Seriously though, are you okay?" I rolled my eyes and stretched my arms above my head. "No fucking idea, but I'm not feeling too bad. I just had to leave the house before I stole Mom's gun and shot Uncle Bill in the foot." "I heard him grumbling about how his hair smelled," she commented, and I smirked. "Serves him right. He's been a major ass to Mom in the past couple of months." "Your mom didn't look too thrilled with him either. I think she was tempted to shoot him also." "Wish she would have," I sighed, pulling at a loose thread on my pants. "It would have made me feel better, in any case." Paulie scooted closer to me and leaned her forehead against my shoulder. "I'm not sure how much more I can take of this," I sighed, dropping my head forward. "Things have been so fucking tense lately between everyone, Mom and Grandma and Bill, Mom and Dad...Dad and me." "What's going on with you and your dad?" Paulie asked, reaching out with her left hand and taking a grip on my own. I kept my eyes focused on the opposite wall. It was hard to say this; I hadn't admitted it out loud up until now. "I think that the fact that I am not his biological son has been getting to him. I wonder sometimes, does he see my biological father in me so much that he can't get past the fact that I still call him 'Dad', no matter what." It pains me to think that he could be thinking like this. Doesn't he know that he is the only person I have ever known as Dad? That I love him just as much as any son can love his father? But how the hell am I supposed to know what's running through Walter Skinner's head? "I'm sorry," Paulie whispered, stretching forward to press her tongue on the spot of skin behind my ear. A few weeks ago that would have sent alarm bells ringing as a totally out of place move by her, but in that space of time, something's happened to us. I don't know quite how to explain it, or why it's happened now, but I can't complain. It's sort of comforting, like, no matter what other sort of shit is happening in life, she's still there, and on my side. "S'okay," I mumbled, tilting my head into the hair piled up on her head. Her hair smelled really nice, not quite sweet, and it fit her. Our eyes met, and I got a pretty strong feeling as to where this night was going. * * * So we're laying down on the couch now. My sweater was somewhere in the next county, and my t-shirt was being persistently pushed up higher by Paulie's moving hands. The ties to her shirt were open and a pair of rather nice breasts were pushed against my chest. My hand was inching higher up her leg and just as I can feel panties that feel like--leather?-- There's a knock at the door. A loud, annoying knock. I groaned into her neck with frustration and pushed up off of her, pulling my t-shirt back into place. Paulie sat up and hurriedly worked the ties on the wrap shirt, making sure that everything was covered up. "Yeah?" I called out, running a hand through my hair, trying to straighten it where her hands had pulled it awry. Luckily the knocker didn't come into the room. "Hey, Drew?" It was Logan's dad. "We're closing up now, and I can't let you stay here all night." "Gotcha," I called back. "I'll be out in a second." I heard his footsteps retreat and I let out a big lungful of air. "At least he didn't walk in," Paulie sighed, pulling her dark brown hair back into a small ponytail. "That would have been a fitting end to the day," I grunted, scrambling around on the floor to find my sweater. For some reason neither one of us knows, we've been keeping this new thing between us pretty much secret. Maybe it's because we can't explain quite what it is, I don't know. But walking in on us would be an unpleasant experience for all involved. I finally found my sweater and tugged it on. I moved towards the door with Paulie right behind me. Looking down at her, I saw that the dark red makeup she had painted onto her eyebrows had smeared out towards her temples (she has this odd habit of painting her eyebrows any color imaginable, which helped give rise to the anime princess image she's earned in school). I reached out and brushed off one of the smears. She smiled at me, and rested her head against my hand for a moment, letting her eyes fall shut. I could tell she was tired. "Are you gonna come back to my house, or head home?" She hummed somewhere in her throat. "I think I'm going with you. Your mom may get really mad if I go home without bringing you back. And besides, I want a decent dessert." I gave one of the black pearl strands around her neck a tug, agreeing with her. We headed out of the little lounge and to the front bar area where the exit was. Logan's dad looked up from his Thanksgiving dinner of KFC hot wings and mashed potatoes to give us a wave goodbye. We waved back and went out into the night. It was a nice night, for the end of November. Yeah, it was pretty damn cold, but at least it looked like it wasn't going to snow anytime soon. I looked up at the stars. I've been finding myself doing a lot of that lately, since Mom told me what she believes happened to my biological dad. "You know," I told Paulie as we approached her crap heap of a car. "My Mom believes that my biological father was abducted by aliens." The statement sent Paulie to a stop. "She does? That seems so..." Her face wrinkled up in puzzlement. "I know, it's really out of character for her. But she says that Dad was there when he disappeared, and that he would swear up and down that Fox Mulder was abducted by aliens." Paulie shook her head in disbelief, searching through her pockets for her keys. "That is really odd." "I know." I looked up at her for a moment. I knew that I had to tell someone about what I knew, that there was some evil little creature living inside my head prodding me to tell the secret that I knew. I could trust Paulie more than just about anyone else out there. "Can I tell you something?" I asked. "Yeah, sure," she said, unlocking the door. "In the car, okay?" She nodded and jammed the keys into the lock. Once we were settled in (with the heater running at top temperature) I told her. "I think my mom has been in contact with Fox Mulder recently." Paulie looked stunned for a short moment, then she shook her head slowly. "And what do you base that on?" she asked. I knew she was going to kick my ass for my response, but I went ahead with it anyway. "A feeling." I ignored her frustrated groan and pushed on. "I know it's a tenuous reason, but there was just something about the way she talked about him. I think she knows he's back, and I think she's been talking with him." There was one last piece of info, and I wasn't going to hide that from her either. "I saw him." "What??" "I saw him, Fox Mulder, the day my parents told me they were getting divorced. He was standing across the street from the school, and he was watching me as we were waiting for the bus." "Are you sure it was him?" Paulie asked, her hands clenching on the steering wheel. "Yeah." I looked out the window, and stared at the stars. "We look too much alike for it to be anyone else." "You gonna tell your mom about this?" she questioned, steering the car into the street. "No. How can I? If I'm wrong, I don't even know what it'll do to her," I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. After that, there didn't seem to be much more to say, so I shut up for the drive home. Paulie parked the car in front of the house, the driveway being crammed full of the rest of the family's cars. "I really don't want to go in there," I mumbled. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," Paulie teased. "Your mom is on your side in this, remember?" I just winced, and crossed my arms over my chest. "I ain't movin'," I grumbled. "I double dog dare ya," she smirked, and I shot her a look. She knows full well that turning down a dare, a double dog dare especially, is a sign of weakness. What else could I do but mutter under my breath, and throw open the car door. As I stalked across the front lawn I heard her slam her own door shut and her hurried footsteps as she ran to catch up. I punched in the code to the garage door, and as it rose up Paulie caught up to me, gasping slightly for breath. We went inside, and I couldn't hear much talking yet. The kitchen was right through the small foyer, and finally I could hear some jabbering off somewhere in the house. The kitchen was empty, however plates were stacked up by the sink and there was leftover food everywhere, packaged in neat little Tupperware containers for the relatives to take home with them. I stalled out as I turned the corner out of the kitchen and approached the family room, where I could hear the most noises coming from. Paulie jabbed me hard in the back, propelling me into the room. Everyone was there. I am not exaggerating. Mom, Grandma, both uncles, aunts, and all their children were there, some on couches and chairs, most of the cousins on the floor. Even Dad had shown up, and was now enjoying a slice of Grandma Maggie's Margarita Pie. "Uh...hi," I stuttered out, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Are you feeling any better, Drew?" Mom asked from her spot on the couch next to Uncle Charlie. "I think so," I said hesitantly, moving to sit down on the floor close to the door. "Hello, Eva," I heard Grandma say to Paulie. Let me just say here that no one calls Paulie by her legit first name, not even her own family (her full name is Eva-Pauline), but yet my grandma persists at it. I think the name is from some obscure Italian Catholic naming tradition involving saints and dead relatives, but I can't be sure. Paulie mumbled hello back and sat down next to me. I figured I had to put in some appearance before the relatives left and I could get some sleep. On the other side of the room, I could see Uncle Bill grumbling under his breath about something I didn't want to speculate about (even though I bet I could make a damn good guess at it). Dad, looking every bit the ex-marine/Assistant Director he is, seemed tempted to whack Uncle Bill upside the head. A pointed look from Mom kept him quiet. Even after divorce, she still had the power. There was a massive amount of eye rolling from the cousins at Uncle Bill's actions, the biggest ones from his own kids. His oldest son, Matthew, is pretty much the rebel in the family. When he came home from the first two semesters at college, he was newly adorned with a multitude of tattoos, a couple of holes in his nose and left eyebrow, and a headful of blue hair. I couldn't complain; it took the heat off of me when I went out and had both my ears pierced. By now though the adults have pretty much become okay with it. All except Uncle Bill, who is a pompous windbag Matthew has given up listening to--except when it comes to money. He needs to get his beer money somewhere. Matthew doesn't share Uncle Bill's attitude about me and Mom's situation. He's always been one of my best friends and biggest supporters of individuality growing up, and it doesn't matter to him who my biological dad is or who my mom is in love with. Matthew's little brother James, has just turned 15, and is in the throes of sulky teenage glory. The world pretty much sucks to him, teachers, parents, most friends, yadda, yadda, yadda...sometimes I wonder if James's sulkiness is just a cry for attention. Having Matt for a brother, anyone can get overlooked. Then we have Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jayne's three kids. Their oldest is Jonas, who at 24, is the oldest of all the cousins. Being in between girlfriends right now he opted to spend Thanksgiving with the family. Jonas is sort of the protector of all of us cousins. Sometimes he can get a little bossy about it, but none of us are afraid of standing up to him when he gets really bad. We keep him at a tolerable level (and I can bet that any future wife of his will thank us for it). Next in the line is Owen, 18. He just started his freshman year at Princeton and the family is damn proud of him. He's pretty much the straight edge of the family, always got good grades, rarely pissed off his parents, and was a all around decent person. Sometimes it can be annoying, especially to a person such as myself who is tempted to burn all of my textbooks in effigy oftentimes. But hey, the family feels that they need another doctor in the family (preferably one who doesn't cut up dead bodies) so they're placing their hopes on Owen. Last is the baby of the cousins at age 14, Aislinn. Being the baby and the only girl out of all of us, she was spoiled rotten. Up until the age of 12 she acted it too. But once puberty kicked in she started to get better. Now she's pretty sweet, although a little too hyper and perky sometimes for my liking. Aislinn just started at Alexandria H.S. (Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jayne moved to our area over the summer) so I've sort of been looking out for her in school. For some odd reason, she looks up to Paulie a lot too. I've tried to tell her that there are better people out there for role models (and if Paulie ever finds out I said that, she'll string me up by my ears) but Paulie's taken a shine to her. If she starts painting her eyebrows though, I'm gonna...well, I'll do something. I really wish I could have bailed out of there, but the look Mom sent me said to stay put. Not wanting to get on Mom's bad side tonight, I stretched my legs out in front of me and got comfortable. We listened to idle adult chat for a while, mostly catching up on how distant branches of the family are doing and any scandals that they're causing. Not being one for gossip, I tuned it out. Dad must have been getting a little tired of it too (especially considering the only reason he was most likely there was because of my disappearing act), so he said his good-byes, picked up his paper plate, and headed out. As he got closer to me, he kneeled down. "Are you all right?" he asked me, and I nodded. "I'm fine, Dad," I mumbled. "Sure you are," Dad shot back sarcastically, and I bit back a groan. He reached out and ruffled my hair. He did it as a kid and he's still doing it, even though I'm almost seventeen now. It's losing its appeal. "Remember, if you need anything at all, I'm only a phone call away." I nodded again. "G'nite, Dad." Dad left and things went back to their state of boredom. Paulie and Aislinn had started talking about random girl stuff, most of which flew over my head. I don't understand girls at all. I doubt I ever will. So I stared at the fireplace. It was just as boring, and with all the people in the room, made it a bit overheated. I was distracted from my fireplace hypnosis by Matt clapping his hand down on my shoulder. "Come with me to the kitchen for a sec, I want to talk to you." Well, it would be better than watching wood burn, so I scrambled to my feet and followed him. Inside the empty kitchen Matt walked over to the counter and held up a measuring cup with some amber liquid in it. "Leftover tequila from Grandma's Margarita pie. You want some? They're not going to miss it." "Please." I didn't bother to think about it. It was a tough day. I deserved it. Matt poured the tequila into two paper cups; there was just enough left for two shots. We gulped them down, and I hissed at the burn I could feel in my chest. "I just wanted to apologize for how my dad was acting before," Matt said, tossing his cup in the garbage. I shrugged. "It's okay. He's been feeling this way for so long, why should he change his thinking now?" "This year was worse than previous years though." Matt leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. The black outline of a gargoyle tattoo on his arm flexed with the muscles in his arm. "This is the first year that Aunt Dana has actually admitted who your real dad is. She's never said anything about it before. They all suspected it, yeah, but she never spoke about it." "What about the cousins?" I asked, curious to find out what everyone thought or knew about my situation. "To be honest, we all though Uncle Walter was your real dad. Even Jonas and Owen, who are old enough to remember before their wedding, thought that he was your dad. I don't think that any of them had met Mulder." Matt sighed and ran a hand over the back of his blue haired head. "So how did you guys find out?" "Remember at the Halloween party Grandma gave for Aislinn? Your mom pretty much blurted it out there, and Aislinn isn't one to keep a secret as big as this. She told Owen, who told Jonas, who told me, and I told Jamie. One big game of telephone. At least it saved Mom and Dad the trouble of explaining it to us." He snorted. "I can only imagine that conversation." I laughed under my breath and crushed the paper cup in my hand. "Imagine what it was like for me." "You're a hell of a lot stronger than I would have been." Matt turned around to look out the window over the sink, and I spotted a glossy patch on the back of his neck. "Hey, you got a new tattoo," I said, moving closer. It was a simple outline, looking like a triangle with each side bent inwards. "What's it mean?" "It's called a three-pointed star. I found it in a book a friend of mine has." Matt turned away from the window to look back at me. "It's a design meant to repel evil powers." He shot me a wry look. "I figure with my dad, a little extra protection couldn't hurt." * * * It was getting fairly late, and all of us on the floor were starting to droop. It wasn't that we were tired (well, I was, and from the way Paulie was starting to tilt over I think she was too), just bored out of our skulls. Censoring our speech for adult ears is stressful, and sometimes it's just not worth it to talk. Eventually Jonas, Owen, and Aislinn left in Owen's car, claiming exhaustion. No one would say no. Me, Paulie, Matt, and Jamie decided to turn in also. Matt and Jamie were staying in the two spare rooms here, while Uncle Bill and Aunt Tara were staying with Grandma. Paulie would be staying here, and she would be staying in my room. I know it's a bit suspicious, but we've done it before, and never fooled around while there either. I wouldn't dare do anything with Mom and Dad under the same roof anyway. As we headed up the stairs I could hear Uncle Bill make the connection about where Paulie was going to sleep. Even Aunt Tara seemed a bit taken aback by it. "Dana, I don't know how you can let her sleep up there with him," I overheard him say. We stopped on the stairs just out of sight so we could hear my mom's response. She didn't disappoint. "Billy, I trust my son, and I know he won't try anything. I also know Paulie pretty well, and I know that if Drew tries anything she doesn't like, she'll knee him in the gut, and lock him in the closet." "I wouldn't be that drastic," I heard Paulie whisper behind me with a grin in her voice. "Maybe I'd just tie your hands to the headboard." I gulped, and she giggled. "Get movin' Drew, and find me some pajamas to wear." Inside my room I dug up a t-shirt and some pajama pants for her to wear, and tossed them to her. I sat down at my desk and turned to face the computer, an attempt to give her some privacy to change. But there was something nagging me, something from back in the karaoke lounge. Hopefully I wouldn't get shot for asking. "Hey Paulie?" I said over the rustling of her clothes. "Yeah?" "What sort of underwear are you wearing?" I heard her movements still totally, and I could bet she was blushing like mad. A slow grin spread across my face, although I didn't turn around. I knew if I turned around, she wouldn't answer. "Just a thong," she said pretty casually. The shiver it sent down my spine wasn't a casual one though. "A leather one." Leather? Yowza. "It was a gag gift from my cousin Madison. She's got an odd sense of humor," she rushed out, and I could hear her pulling the rest of the pajamas on. "Maybe I should send her a thank you," I mumbled, booting up the computer. Paulie was quiet for a few moments, then I heard her walk over. As I watched the start-up screen she dropped a kiss on the top of my head and placed something in my lap. "Nighty-nite," she whispered, and went back to my bed. I grabbed at what she put in my lap, and found it felt like leather. A closer search revealed it was a matching leather bra to the panties I had felt before. Whoa, baby. I couldn't reply to her though, because Paulie was now sound asleep with my covers over her. She must have been more tired than she let on. Maybe that's why she didn't ask about dessert once we got in. I tossed the bra into a corner of the room and booted up my e-mail program. There wasn't much in there worth mentioning. Junk, junk, porn site ads, get rich quick schemes, a few worthless forwards from friends, a few virus attachments quickly deleted, a no subject. I checked the address that the no subject e-mail came from. TrustNo1@mail.com. Hmmm. I wonder who that could be? End My Father's Stars In case I wasn't all that clear about the birth years of the cousins, I'm going to list them down here: Matthew: January of 1998 James: November of 2002 Jonas: 1993 Owen: 1999 Aislinn: 2003 and, of course, Drew: February of 2001 End notes 1: The tattoo Matthew has is a design from a book called "A Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects" by Barbara Walker. The exact entry for the three pointed star is: Actually a triangle with indented sides, the three pointed star is an unusual star shape. It is found especially in Arabic fretwork and allover pattern designs. The narrow passage of the center may represent an opening intended to repel evil powers by its tendency to close up against them. End notes 2: There really is such a thing as Margarita Pie. End notes 3: Yeah, the e-mail address is borrowed. I was too lazy to come up with an original one. And no, I don't think it counts as a spoiler for the episode. ;-)