Chapter Text
Sunday, January 2nd 1994
Cherrydale, Arlington, Virginia
Mornings in the Skinner household began early, but never slow and rarely quiet. Even during the Christmas/New Year break, on a Sunday morning, Walter was, as always, the first one up. He had his time in the Marines to thank for carving such habits in him so deeply and long-lasting. By the time the light from the sun was edging its way through the curtains he was already awake and dressed in his sweats and sneakers. Even though he valued strict consistency and discipline, he respected that not everyone in the household was as devout. He did his best to consider the precious sleep time his wife and daughter clung to by moving through the house as quietly as possible.
His wife Sharon, though she had an early morning weekday schedule to keep as well still took a much different approach to starting the day. She took time to take in the day, moving like the morning belonged to her, unlike Walter who moved like routine was law. For Sharon, it was about starting the day off enjoying it, that meant coffee first, always. Even on a Sunday morning, a day off, she needed to have her coffee to start the day. Not too long after Walter left the house Sharon woke up, and quietly made her way downstairs and immediately brew coffee. She didn’t rush, because she didn’t feel that she needed to, she turned on the radio, never news, not first thing in the morning, she put on the jazz standards station and let the music play as she set up to make breakfast. It wouldn’t be long before their daughter chaotically bounded down the stairs, stuffed bunny in hand complaining about not getting enough sleep.
Catherine, Cat for short, the tiny nine-year-old who claimed the hearts of both Sharon and Walter from day one was an unmistakable presence in the house. Outwardly she was just like other children her age, curious, playful, adventurous. However, on a deeper level this precocious girl was very different, not just from other children, but from other people in general. Adopted at five years old, or so Walter and Sharon estimated, Cat was a black girl with long dark curly hair, brown skin, and deeper brown almond shaped eyes that often seemed to look into the core of who a person is.
When Cat was awake, the house itself knew it. Not just because of her complaints of wanting to sleep in, but because of the energy she exuded. This morning, even though she didn’t have to be up so early she was anyway. She came into the living room and sprawled herself across the rug. Still in her pajamas, her favorite stuffed animal, Bun-bun in hand, hair only partially still in the top bun it was in when she went to sleep, she made a big show of how “tired” she was by groaning loud enough for her mother to hear her from the kitchen. Sharon came out of the kitchen with her coffee mug in hand, smells of the breakfast she was making following her through the door. She looked, amused at her dramatic daughter and smiled. Cat lifted her head and smiled.
“Good morning mommy.” She said cheerfully, before going back to feigning devastation over such early more hours. Sharon assured Cat that she would survive, theatrics aside, and that breakfast was almost ready. This put Cat in a better mood, and Sharon went back into the kitchen.
Cat rolled over onto her stomach, head to the side with Bun-bun under her face. She noticed her father’s glasses sitting on the coffee table and thought it was funny that he forgot them. She imagined he would be running into everything on the street without his glasses, despite the fact that he assured her multiple times that he was not in fact completely blind without them. She focused on them steadying her mind and pushing herself into them until they began to lift from the table, as if being picked up by an invisible hand. She concentrated on them hovering, seeing how long she could keep them steady.
They wobbled as they hovered about an inch above the surface, Cat squinted at them and her face tightened with concentration.
“Stay,” she whispered under her breath. From behind her Sharon who had come to tell Cat breakfast was ready watched the scene from the kitchen doorway.
“Gentle,” Sharon said quietly encouraging Cat.
“I am being gentle, mom,” Cat insisted, not taking her eyes off the glasses.
Sharon smiled, “Mmmhmm.”
Cat huffed softly, adjusting her mental grip on the glasses, “I am,” she repeated, quieter this time as if she were trying not to upset the glasses themselves. She remembered what her mother had told her about not pushing but instead try holding. Neither Cat, nor Sharon, or Walter for that matter, fully understood what this was, or how Cat was able to do it, among other things. But Sharon didn’t believe Cat should hide from it, at least not from her parents, but instead she encouraged her to understand it as a part of herself.
For a moment, the glasses steadied, now hovering about 3 inches about the coffee table. They stopped wobbling as the invisible tension holding them up settled. Cat’s eyes widened, feeling that something was right, she had control that she hadn’t felt before.
“Mommy! Look!” She spoken too soon and the excitement of her success broke through the energy before she could stop it. The glasses jerked sideways, in a strange and unnatural way before they dropped with a clink back onto the table with a bounce. Cat groaned and planted her face into Bun-bun. A second later she rolled over onto her back and then looked at the glasses, like they had personally betrayed her.
Sharon stepped forward from the doorway to comfort her disappointed daughter, “You almost had it, you’re doing so well. But maybe you should try something smaller and less fragile,” she smiled to show Cat that she was proud of her.
“That’s what you said yesterday,” Cat muttered.
“Yesterday you knocked over a lamp.”
“It didn’t fall,” Cat argued. “It just sorta leaned.”
“At a pretty steep angle,” Sharon replied.
“It didn’t break.”
“Thankfully,” Sharon said easily. She took a sip of her coffee, then added, “and why you’re still allowed to practice in here.”
Cat perked up a little at that, glancing back at the glasses. “Daddy’s gonna notice if I scratch them.”
“Then don’t scratch them.”
“That’s not helpful, mom.”
Sharon left the doorway and walked over to where Cat sat on the floor, she lowered herself onto the rug beside her. She reached out and ran a hand over the side of Cat’s head smoothing it across the girl’s still disheveled curls and smiled. “You’re doing better,” she said, quieter now. “You just don’t like taking your time.”
Cat leaned into Sharon’s touch feeling her frustration ease slightly under the familiar warmth of her mother’s hand. She sighed, picking up Bun-bun she squished him close to herself, her expression softening as another thought ran through her mind.
She hesitated before she spoke, then, “I know I can do more, much more than this.”
Sharon shifted where she sat, studying Cat’s face she asked, “More how, sweetheart?”
Cat shrugged, unsure of what to say. How to explain it to her mother in a way she could understand. Cat didn’t fully understand herself. “I don’t know. Bigger stuff. Not just, little things.” She glanced toward the coffee table, at the glasses sitting there as if nothing had happened. “Like before.”
Sharon’s gaze followed hers, then returned to Cat’s face. “Before,” she repeated gently.
“Yeah.” Cat’s voice dropped a little. “From when I was in… that place.”
This raised concern in Sharon, Cat rarely talked about that place. When she did it was usually something in passing, random memories she had from before that had begun to fade over time as her life normalized. That Cat had this memory, one connected to her abilities, worried Sharon. Brushing away the concern, for now, she stood up.
“Okay, we don’t have to figure this out all at once,” Sharon said. “Come on time for breakfast before it gets cold.”
Cat watched her, trying to read something in her face. “I could try again,” she offered, a little hopeful again. “Something bigger.”
Sharon shook her head, “Not before breakfast.”
Cat groaned softly, flopping back onto the rug. “Mommy!”
“Food first,” Sharon said, nudging her lightly. “then we can talk about bigger things.”
Cat dragged Bun-bun up over her face in protest. “You always say that.”
“Yes,” Sharon replied, rising to her feet, “because you need fuel to keep going, don’t you?”
Before Cat could attempt to argue further the front door opened. Walter walked in, a rush of cool winter air came in with him, his breath heavy and still visible in the chill that flowed in from outside. His presence filling the entry way in a way that was comforting to both Sharon and Cat. Especially Sharon in this moment, who was slightly worried about this conversation with Cat. He looked directly at Cat still sitting on the floor and Sharon stand near, both of them quietly looked back at him. He sensed he had just missed something important.
“Morning,” he said, voice steady, a little rough from the cold.
“Morning,” Sharon answered easily.
Cat stood, grabbing Bun-bun from the floor and greeted her father, “Good morning, Daddy. Did you run the whole way today?”
Walter glanced at Cat, brow furrowed as he removed his gloves, “I always run the whole way, Kitten.”
“That’s not true,” Cat shot back. “Last week you stopped.”
Walter paused, busted. She wasn’t with him on the run, yet she knew that, the same way she often knew little things she shouldn’t. Cat was so proud of herself, and Walter couldn’t help but be slightly amused by her boldness.
“Know it all,” he said.
Sharon turned her head slightly, hiding a smile, “Busted.”
Walter rolled his eyes, “I adjusted my pace,” he said to both of them.
“That means you stopped,” Cat said, satisfied. She liked teasing her dad and she knew he liked when she picked on him a little. He encouraged her to question things, always, but he worried that sometimes she may take that advice a little too far as she got older. He caught Sharon’s amusement, she always found Cat and Walter bantering quite funny, commenting that they were more alike than either of them realized.
Before Walter could counter Cat’s argument, Sharon spoke up.
“Breakfast, both of you. Let’s go.”
Cat nodded and walked towards the kitchen, Sharon met Walter’s eyes briefly overhead. A look that told him she needed to speak with him at some point, privately.
…
Cat sat down at the kitchen table, immediately digging into the food her mother made. French toast first. Walter sat down at the table, watching Cat pour more than the necessary amounts of syrup on her French toast. Sharon, holding two mugs of coffee, a refill for herself and one for Walter came to the kitchen table. She sat a mug in front of Walter before taking a seat herself.
“Is that enough syrup?” She asked Cat who was concentrating on the stream of syrup she poured.
“It certainly is a lot,” Walter chimed in both concerned and amused, but not surprised. Cat’s sweet tooth is legendary in the Skinner household, but it usually reared its ugly head when Cat had been practicing her abilities, “Practicing?” he asked both of them.
Cat nodded, finally putting down the syrup she said, “I was floating your glasses, Daddy. I was getting really good height on them too.”
Walter sighed, “Really? I forget them and you’re already using them for practice props. Just imagine if we had another lamp situation.” He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Cat,” Sharon said between bites of her food, a tone of amusement in her voice, “if you actually break your father’s glasses, he will pretend he isn’t upset…”
“I will not,” Walter interrupted.
“...but he will be upset.” Sharon finished.
Cat, looked up from the eggs she now focused on shoving into her mouth with a grin, her brown eyes bright with mischief. “He’ll forgive me. He always does, because I am too adorable to stay angry at.”
“That,” he said pacing his words for effect, “is not fair, and manipulation.”
Cat leaned back in her chair, pressing one hand dramatically to her chest. “I would never.”
“You just did,” he replied.
She smiled wider. “It works, though.”
Walter exhaled through his nose, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he knew she was right and he was defeated. He stood up, picked up both his and Sharon’s finished plates and his own mug and walked to the sink to drop them off. Sharon stood up and followed him to the sink, a smile on her face she leaned into his side.
“Instead of going into the city today for our last holiday hurrah before getting back to the regular schedule, how about we just take it easy today. Stay in, relax as a family. Once things get busy again, we won’t get too many chances to just spend uninterrupted time together, especially with your added work with these… X-Files.”
Walter thought about it before responding, “You’re right, we spent enough time out over the last week with all the festivities and shopping thanks to a certain someone,” he nodded towards Cat and Sharon laughed, he continued, “It would be nice to just have some nice quiet family time.”
Sharon, happy, nodded and moved in closer to Walter who adjusted automatically, and angled just enough to press a brief kiss into her hair. Sharon tilted her face up, and he planted another kiss this time on her lips. She kissed him back and lingered, just a bit longer.
“Eeeew,” Cat said loudly from the table. “Look at you two in loooove.” She teased.
Sharon laughed, “We are married, sweetheart, of course we’re in love," she said.
“I don’t need to see it.” Cat said dramatically, dragging Bun-bun up to cover her face.
Walter chuckled under his breath as he stepped past, to gather more emptied dishes. He reached down to ruffle her hair as he went. “Sorry kiddo, your mom is just so adorable I can’t help it.”
Sharon giggled, and Cat shrugged accepting this explanation, before changing the subject.
“Now that I’m refueled, I should practice some more,” she said clearly referring to her abilities.
Walter paused, even though he wasn’t entirely against Cat trying out her powers he still had reservations. Sharon had convinced him that they wouldn’t be able to stop her, as she got older, she would just do it behind their backs. Instead, they agreed that it would be better if they knew what she was doing and could supervise her progress, for as much as they even know about what this is.
He thought about his glasses and looked at Cat, a neutral expression on his face, “How about we hold off for the rest of day. Let’s just enjoy a quiet day, like your mother suggested.” He said gently.
Cat considered it, knowing that her father was more concerned with her practice than he was with the quiet day. She could always sense his apprehension whenever the topic came up, unlike her mother who was encouraging, her father worried. Cat knew that the worry was for her directly, he didn’t understand it and didn’t know if it could hurt her or if she might hurt herself. He was trying his best to protect her, even from herself.
Walter added, “You’re going back to school tomorrow, you’re going to need every ounce of your strength to pay attention and behave,” he joked.
Cat nodded, taking his joke seriously, “You’re right, it does take a lot of energy for both of those things.”
Walter scrunched his brow, shook his head and laughed to himself as he made his way to the sink. Sharon watched the exchange over the rim of her mug, also laughing to herself. Walter could never quite wrangle Cat the way he wanted to or rather pretended he wanted to. Even though he laid down rules for her, he also left loopholes and made exceptions. He was a sucker for his little girl and it was fun for Sharon to watch them interact. Walter was never the type to be sensitive or let his guard down too much. But with his daughter all bets were off, he was a 6-foot-2 teddy bear and at her mercy most of the time.
Cat asked if they could get a game of Monopoly started and do a movie marathon. A Skinner family tradition, that, as she reminded them, they had not done at all this holiday season. Their games of Monopoly were marathons in themselves, sometimes lasting hours until eventually they would get tired and give up by counting out the fake money and declare a winner that way. They liked to have movies playing in the background and snacks handy throughout. Both Walter and Sharon agreed to Cat’s request.
...
Earlier, just after breakfast, Walter had decided before game night started, he would take some time to go over the new files he would have to play catch up on. In a few weeks he will be taking over for Section Chief Blevins as supervisor of the X-Files and the two agents, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. To make the transition smooth and allow Blevins to also prepare for his new promoted role, Walter was given a few weeks to catch up on the work Mulder and Scully had done so far. He sat at his desk in the den, files spread over his desk reading through the cases and reports they had submitted. He was immediately concerned about the nature of the cases, and the people who could do things similar to Cat. He couldn’t help but think about how she could easily be one of these files. His thoughts were interrupted by Sharon who knocked quietly and told him they needed to talk.
“About earlier, the glasses?” he said knowingly.
Sharon nodded, “I know you have your feelings about her practicing, but so far, it’s been fine. She is a smart girl and knows enough to not do anything outside of this house,” she said trying to reassure him.
“Then what’s wrong?” Walter asked, leaning towards Sharon.
“It’s the memories, of the place she came from. She said she remembers that when she was there, she could do more.”
“More? How does she even remember, she was so young when she escaped that place?”
Sharon shrugged to both of those things, “I don’t know, but I do worry about what those memories are doing to her. And we can’t even take her to a child psychologist to figure it all out,” despair filled Sharon and she looked at Walter tearing up, “I don’t want to lose her too.”
Walter stood up and hugged Sharon, “I know, neither do I. I think we may have to play psychologists to her, allow her space to talk about what she remembers when she’s ready. Though… I do wish she would open up soon, but we just have to be patient.”
Sharon nodded into Walter’s chest, trying to take comfort in knowing that at the very least they had done a good job at hiding Cat in plain sight for four years. Whoever may be looking for her, if anyone wouldn’t find her so easily.
“Walter… what happened in that place? What did they do to our little girl? What did they make her do?”
…
Cat called for Sharon to see something on the television. Walter kissed the top of his wife’s head, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay. Sharon sighed, without saying anything she nodded and headed out to the living room. Walter sat back down at his desk, his mind going back more than four years to the night that changed things for them, the night they found Cat. They were meant to be there, Walter remembered Sharon being sure of that. In their grief they had decided to get out of the area, go north and take some time to just remember what they had lost just a year prior, their biological daughter, Beth. She was just seven years old, her life was short and her death was sudden. A sudden illness led to encephalitis and left Walter and Sharon with the painful decision of having to take her off life support. A year later they found themselves on a road Sharon had chosen, the long way on a road that no one would take unless they were lost or being guided by something other than a map.
“I think we need to go that way,” Sharon said, pointing towards a road that didn’t look like it lead anywhere. Walter hesitated but followed his wife’s direction. It was late and raining hard. It came down in sheets, relentlessly pounding the SVU and putting the windshield wipers to the test.
“Stop!” Sharon shouted, causing Walter to slam on the breaks suddenly. He looked over at her, and before he could say anything Sharon pointed.
Walter looked in the direction Sharon pointed at on the driver’s side of the car. At first Walter didn’t see her, just the rain and trees. He adjusted his glasses and squinted and caught a glimpse of something small on the shoulder of the road. A child, barefoot and standing completely still staring at their car, the only one on the road.
“Oh my god,” Sharon whispered.
Walter was already out of the car, drenched in seconds moving towards the child. Sharon immediately followed him. As they got closer, they could see she was a little girl, wearing a white sweatsuit, ash and dirt streaked all over her. Her hair weighed down by the rain, much of it clinging to her face in dark wet curls. Her big eyes looked from Walter to Sharon and back again. Clearly terrified, she seemed to be trying to decide if she should run or ask for help.
Walter crouched slowly, hands open, voice low, “Hey, sweetheart. We’re not going to hurt you.”
The girl stepped back, looking him directly in his eyes as if she were trying to read him. Then she hoarsely said, “Please, I can’t go back there.” This made Walter’s blood run cold and Sharon put her hand over her mouth in shock.
She took her coat off and put it around the child, “Sshh,” Sharon murmured rubbing her shoulders, “You’re safe now.”
Walter put out his hand to guide them both to the car, “Come on now, let’s get out of this.”
Sharon guided Cat to the backseat of the car, Walter opened the door for them to get in. Sharon carefully picked her up and placed her on the seat, reassuring her that it was okay. Walter closed the door and for a second, he and Sharon stood in the downpour looking at each other. The sound of sirens in the distance caught their attention for a minute. Walter got back in the driver’s side, Sharon got in the backseat with Cat. Walter shifted in his seat to look back at both of them. The girl, clearly frightened and traumatized, stared at Sharon the same way she stared at Walter just a moment before as if she were trying to read her.
“They’ll hurt me,” Cat whispered.
Walter swallowed hard, “We need to call this in,” he said immediately. His FBI training kicking in, he went directly to what was procedure and how they needed to follow it, but that felt wrong and he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth.
Cat whimpered, “No. Please,” she said quietly but desperately.
Sharon looked at Walter, a look he had seen before that told him she knew or sensed something he didn’t.
“She’s not lying,” Sharon said quietly. “We cannot hand her over.”
“This isn’t… she isn’t…” Walter started, then stopped as Cat leaned into Sharon, burying her face into her chest.
“She’s not our Beth,” Sharon said, voice breaking just slightly. “But she needs us.”
Walter faced forward and closed his eye, exhaling a deep sigh. When he opened his eyes again, he nodded, put the car in drive and pulled off. Five years later, that girl now lives as close to normal as she can get, eating too much sugar and dragging around an old stuffed bunny.
Catherine Arsinoe Skinner, this was the name given to her by Walter and Sharon. Catherine for Walter’s maternal grandmother, and Arsinoe for the Greek-Egyptian queen Sharon had become fascinated with in an art history class in undergrad. Cat was not like other people. It was not just telekinesis, it was also the psychic ability, the hyper-intelligence, the fact that she rarely ever got sick, and her wounds healed faster than everyone else’s, and maybe other things they don’t know about. She was different, this is a fact that held in the Skinner household. But Walter didn’t think of her in those terms. He saw her as a whole person, when she argued passionately about the rules of Monopoly, or when she sprawled out on the living floor clutching her stuffed bunny to her chest while watching nature documentaries. She was his daughter. There was no debating that in his book, and he knew Sharon felt the same, but there was also no doubt that this little girl had changed their lives and given them something back they thought they had lost forever.
Later Walter put the files back into his desk drawer and joined Sharon and Cat for the movie and Monopoly. This game of Monopoly was especially exciting, with disputes over property, taxes, rent, and of course getting out of jail. A bowl of popcorn sat on the edge of coffee table where the game was also laid out, always threatening to fall over every time Walter tried to argue some aspect of the game. Ferngully: The Last Rain Forrest played on the television, a staple in Cat’s VHS collection as one of her favorite movies, though right now she paid it very little attention as she argued with her father about the “true” rules of this game. Between debates Walter walked back and forth to the kitchen checking on the roast he had in the oven, as it got closer to finish, the smell of it filled the house. Cat always changed her tone to something sweeter when inquiring about how much longer until it was finished, which made Sharon laugh. They spent the rest of the day and evening playing Monopoly, arguing and eating before it was time for bed and, to Cat's dismay, to rest up for school in the morning.
…
Monday morning came in quietly, bright, and way too fast if anyone asked Cat. The usual weekday bustle of the Skinner household was in full swing, with everybody getting ready to go back to work and school. Walter got up early, as usual, went for his morning jog and came home to the breakfast Sharon had already made and Cat was already eating. It was a quick meal, not as leisurely as a weekend breakfast, they ate and then got ready for the day.
Sharon moved through the house, her coat already on, and keys in hand. She called out reminders to Walter and Cat as she made her way to the front door. Cat appeared at the top of the stairs, in her school uniform and her backpack in one hand half zipped and Bun-bun in the other held by an ear.
“Bun-bun stays home,” Sharon said without turning around.
Cat groaned but still returned the stuffed rabbit to her room.
Walter was already outside when Sharon and Cat also came out, Sharon locking the front door behind them. Walter stood by his car, coat collar turned up, watching Sharon and Cat come down the steps together both bundled up. Cat scrunched her face up at the cold and then sped past her mother, stopping abruptly in front of her father and threw her little arms around his waist.
“Bye daddy,” she said happily. This startled Walter at first, but then he laughed softly, tightly hugging her back.
“Bye, Kitten. Have a good day,” he said, “Please listen to your teachers and behave.”
“I always do,” Cat replied looking up at him, Sharon snorted.
Cat released her embrace, pulled back still looking up at him this time with seriousness. Walter, feeling the shift in energy, looked Cat in her eyes she had a look that he had seen before.
“Be careful,” she said.
“Of what?” Walter asked concerned.
Cat hesitated and stared past him as if she were trying to see deeper into something Walter could not. Sharon slowly walked towards them, listening intently. She, like Walter, knew their daughter sometimes knew things she shouldn’t. Similar to the way Sharon sensed things, but in much more detail.
“The man who smokes a lot, he’s watching,” Cat said casually.
“That man works where I do, Kitten,” he said calmly, “He’s not watching us, he’s just around my office… often.”
Cat looked Walter directly in his eyes and said, “Not us.” She paused and then said, “You.”
Walter exhaled, knowing that the man his colleagues secretly called “Cancer Man” had been monitoring his work with the bureau so far. He also knew that this man had connections and intentions that could not be explained as anything other than nefarious. Cat’s words made him wonder just how closely he was being watched. Sharon stepped closer to both of them, seeing the concern grow on Walter’s face she slipped her hand into his. Walter looked away from Cat and at Sharon. She gave it a gentle squeeze and put her other hand on Cat’s shoulder.
“We will all be careful, like we have been. We are okay,” she said reassuring them both. Walter nodded and leaned down kissing Sharon on the lips, a slow and meaningful kiss.
“Cat,” Walter said looking back down at his daughter, “It’s okay, and I promise I will be careful.” He turned to Sharon, “Call me if anything feels off,” he said. Sharon nodded.
Walter watched Sharon and Cat drive off in Sharon’s car, a protective urge rising within him as Cat’s waring replayed in his mind. For now, he could rest in the knowledge that there was no way for Cancer Man to know anything about his family secret. All he knew was that Cat is his and Sharon’s adopted daughter. Walter made it a point to keep his family completely separate from his work, not just because of Cat, but also because he didn’t want them exposed to some of the vile things people were capable of. Walter intended for things to stay that way, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure of that.
…
Sharon pulled up to Cat’s private school, in the Wesley Heights area of D.C., other parents also crowded the school dropping off their own children. One child, Sofie, a small nine-year-old with curly red hair, stood at the front steps of the school. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder, and she looked out for one car in particular. Her eyes lit up immediately when she saw Sharon and Cat pull up to the school.
“Hey!” They called out to each other in unison, as Cat jumped out of the car. Sharon got out of the driver’s side and greeted Sofie as well. Sharon lingered for a moment, bending over to smooth Cat’s hair that was in two neatly braided pigtails with red bows to match her uniform which Sharon straightened.
She then turned her attention to Sofie, “How are you sweetheart? How was your break?” Sharon asked gently, reaching to straighten out Sofie’s uniform as well.
“Okay,” Sofie said quietly.
“How are your grandparents? They must have been so excited to have you visit,” Sharon said.
“They are great, grandma made so many cakes!” Sofie’s mood picked up a bit at the memory.
“And your mother? How is she?”
“She’s… okay.”
“Well, I will have to give her call sometime soon,” Sharon thought about checking in on Lana, Sofie’s mother, the holidays have not been so good for either of them since Jamie, her husband, died. Then the school bell rang, “Go ahead girls, get inside so you’re not late.”
Cat hugged and kissed her mother goodbye, and Sofie waved as the girls went inside with the swarm of other elementary schoolers making their way into the school.
…
Walter entered the elevator from the parking garage of the J. Edgar Hoover building, Cat’s words still lingering as he made his way to his office. He stepped off on his floor and shook the feeling as he walked to his office, he had a job to do and as long as he did it, he believed things would be fine. His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Cancer Man casually leaning against a wall near the entrance of Walter’s office. A cigarette burned low between his fingers. Walter noted that he looked like he had actually grown out of the building itself. Another permanent fixture that was never authorized but also could not be removed. Like a cancer.
Walter’s stride didn’t slow down he had no desire for any unnecessary conversations with the man. Ever since Walter was informed that he was assigned to oversee the X-Files, he braced himself for having to work with Cancer Man on a more regular basis. The X-files. Walter had resisted the assignment at first. He wanted nothing to do with them, not because he feared the ridicule that came with the association. But because the reports coming from the investigations often reminded him of Cat.
Eugene Victor Tooms, a man who should not exist if the reports are true. A human being who could slip himself into the smallest of spaces, to hunt. Walter had to read the file twice, then a third time and each time he found it more and more outrageous. But he asked himself if the existence of this man was more outrageous than the existence of his own daughter. He also asked himself what this all meant for Cat. Walter didn’t believe in aliens, not really. He did, however, believe in the cruelty of humans, especially of those with power. If a thing like Tooms, or a person like Cat could be created in a lab or by freak accident, then what did that mean?
His mind went to Sharon, who was in her own right different. She wasn’t as different as Cat, but she did carry something… otherworldly in her. Something that allowed her to understand Cat in a way that he could not. Walter had learned early on in their relationship to trust Sharon’s near impeccable intuition. He had learned to protect her and Cat, from men like the one standing in front of him now.
“Good morning assistant director Skinner,” Cancer Man said, “I hope you’re finding the files… interesting.”
Walter stopped just enough to say, “Yes, very interesting,” with nothing else to add he wished Cancer Man a good morning and continued on.
…
Across the city, Cat sat in her classroom her head ringing as her mind is slammed without warning. Pristine while hallways, people in lab coats. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath trying to control the flow of information as it made its way inside her head. Things shifted to a dark room, a library or office where a group of men stood around talking about “colonists”. They were making plans, terrible plans Cat realized. Her mind was then dragged to the next scene, her father in his office that smoking man standing at his side controlling what he said to two people who sat before him. A short red-haired woman and a dark haired man who looked very angry. Her mind shifted again, back to the white hallways, fire flowing across the ceiling, another man stood watching her. His thoughts were strange, focused on a goal while regret pressed on him heavily.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered without moving his mouth. Cat didn’t know his name, and she didn’t know if he was real or a dream. And suddenly, as quickly as they had come on, the images left her. She opened her eyes to see her teacher looking at her, concern in his eyes. She shook off the images and picked up her pencil to complete the assignment that sat on her desk.