Starve.Org White Noise Usenet Archive: "xfc: NEW: Blood Ties V: Legacies (14 of 20"

Blood Ties V: Legacies (14 of 20) By Dawn

(Disclaimer in part 1)

Room 326 Wednesday 9:43 a.m.

"That's about it," Grey concluded quietly. "The things they did to me, the tests they ran, remain a blur. I know they drugged me with something each time, and I can remember pain..." He shuddered, an involuntary twitch of muscles. "But the conversation with Krycek is crystal clear. It didn't make sense at the time, but now..."

Scully searched Mulder's face, his eyes flat, mouth compressed to a thin line. He let his eyelids slip closed to shutter himself from her compassionate gaze.

"Yet another piece of my father's legacy," he said bitterly. "It's the gift that keeps on giving."

"He did try to shield your family from this," Scully pointed out, looking at Grey. "We just have no way of knowing if he succeeded."

"If they... If I do have this genetic factor like Fox, could it save him?" Grey asked, hope sparking in his eyes.

"We don't know what this alleged genetic factor looks like, or its location," she said. "Add to that the very real possibility that you don't possess it, and the chances of success are very slim." She sucked in her bottom lip, fingers smoothing the wrinkles from Mulder's sheet. "I actually sent a sample of my own blood for analysis, hoping the lab could isolate antibodies from when I was infected with the virus. So far they've come up empty."

Mulder's expression softened. "I appreciate the effort. But how do we even know this is the same? Sacks became comatose, my immune system is being destroyed, and you were apparently designated to serve as a human incubator. Those are three very different reactions. How does it all fit together?"

"I'm not certain, but I have some ideas. Sacks could very well have been on his way to gestating one of the creatures you saw, we never had the time to determine the complete effects of the growth." She wrinkled her nose. "If you remember, I dropped into a comatose state myself."

"Remember? I still have nightmares about it," Mulder muttered. "But *I* am not in a coma."

"Perhaps due to this resistance that Krycek spoke of," Scully countered. "It could be weakened, but still partially functional."

"Why would the growth destroy my immune system?"

"Think about it, Mulder. What's the body's natural response to an invader?"

Mulder grimaced. "You mean the virus knocks out the host's immune system so that the organism can gestate."

"Exactly. But in your case the organism stalled -- from vestiges of the Russian vaccine, genetic resistance, or some combination of the two." Scully shook her head. "I just wish I understood what triggered the relapse. Why now?"

"Krycek said they were 'monitoring their investment,'" Grey said. "That would imply that even the creators don't completely understand what they've created."

Mulder seemed to sink more deeply into the pillows, face pale and drawn. Seeing his brother's pained expression, Grey immediately regretted his choice of words.

"Fox, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Don't apologize for the truth," Mulder replied wearily. "Isn't that what I am? They've manipulated me my entire life, and now I find they engineered my conception. I can almost appreciate the humor in some unknown factor screwing up their little genetics experiment. Ole Smokey must be royally pissed."

He coughed, then winced, pressing his knuckles hard against his forehead. "So what's next, Scully?" he asked, the words beginning to slur and his eyes drooping. "I can feel that I'm not getting better. Brewer must have some plan of attack. Is it time for that lobotomy you're always threatening?"

Scully couldn't muster a smile. "The growth is inoperable, Mulder. Brewer wants to try chemotherapy."

Mulder's face betrayed nothing. "When?"

"As soon as possible. The oncologist will stop by today to talk with us."

Mulder swallowed thickly. "Do you trust him?"

"Brewer?" At Mulder's nod Scully continued. "Yes. I like him, Mulder, but I must admit your overdeveloped sense of paranoia has rubbed off on me. I called the Gunmen yesterday and had them check him out. He came up clean."

"Wanted to know what you were feeling, Scully. Guess now I'll find out first hand," Mulder mumbled, shifting restlessly in search of a comfortable position.

Scully's heart twisted at the mention of her cancer. "I never wanted you to know, love," she replied, running the pads of her gloved fingers gently up and down the soft skin on the underside of his arm.

"Headache," Mulder sighed fretfully, but his eyelids fluttered.

"Do you want me to get you something?" Scully asked, but she kept her voice low and her fingers continued their movement.

"Mmm. 'S aspirin in the bathroom, behind the..."

The words fell off into an unintelligible murmur, then ceased. Scully's lips turned up even as she blinked back tears. She slipped off the bed and tucked Mulder's arm beneath the sheet, stroking the spot on his cheek she could not kiss. When she turned to look for Grey, she was surprised to find he had left.

Once outside Mulder's room she efficiently stripped off gown and gloves and stepped into the hallway. Her eyes swept the length of the corridor without locating him, increasing her bewilderment. A tap on her shoulder caused her to release the breath she'd unconsciously been holding, a wry smile on her face.

"I wondered where you... Oh, Elena! Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"How's our patient? I just came on shift and I haven't been in to see him yet." Elena's intent expression attested to genuine concern.

"He's hanging in there. The new antibiotic has kept the fever down, but his white count keeps dropping." Scully chewed her lip. "Dr. Brewer is recommending chemotherapy for the tumor."

Elena tugged on the ends of her stethoscope. "How did Mulder take the news?"

Scully shrugged. "He took it. Mulder has been through a lot in his life. He's mastered the art of rolling with the punches."

"And how about you? Are you rolling too?"

Scully released a short puff of air. "I'm trying. I nearly died of cancer a couple of years ago. This brings it all back as if it were yesterday."

Elena lay a sympathetic hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, this must be very difficult for you. I guess that also explains why Mr. McKenzie looked so upset."

"Grey? You saw him?"

Elena raised her eyebrows. "Well, yes. He came out of Mulder's room about two minutes before you did, looking pretty raw. He wanted to know if there was someplace he could get some fresh air, so I sent him to the terrace on the fourth floor."

Scully nodded, giving Elena's hand a quick squeeze before pulling away. "Thanks. I'd better go check on him. Mulder's out like a light right now, but he's overdue for pain meds and might not last."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Elena assured her.

Weaving down corridors now bustling with nurses, patients, and equipment, Scully's body functioned on autopilot while her mind seethed with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She felt stretched to the breaking point, caught between the purely emotional desire to remain at Mulder's side, the intellectual drive to be part of the efforts to find a cure, and her craving for revenge against the cigarette smoking devil at the center of this nightmare. At the center of every nightmare.

Scully slowed as she stepped out onto the terrace, belatedly realizing that her coat still hung on the hooks outside Mulder's room. She burrowed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, hunching her shoulders a bit against the chill wind. The solitary figure leaning over the brick wall reminded her so strongly of Mulder she felt a physical ache somewhere between her head and her heart.

"Hey," she said quietly, propping her elbows on the concrete and mirroring his posture.

"Tracked me down, huh, Agent Scully?" Grey said with forced levity.

"I'm sure Mulder's told you that he never ditches me for long," Scully replied.

Grey feigned a grimace. "Ouch. The infamous ditch. Never thought I'd be guilty of that."

Scully eyed him appraisingly. "It's your first offense. I suppose I can let it slide if you come clean with what's bothering you. Aside from the obvious, of course."

Grey scrubbed his face with his hands. "Dana..."

"It's Kate, isn't it?"

He abruptly dropped his hands and pinned her with a sharp stare. "What?"

"Look, ever since Brewer showed me that CAT scan I've been plagued with flashbacks of my own cancer, and hearing the word chemotherapy this morning only made things worse. It's only natural all of this would remind you of Kate's illness."

Grey flinched and spun so that she was left with a view of his rigid back, one hand clamped on the wall in a white knuckled grip and the other fisted at his side. Scully reached out tentatively to lay her hand on his back, feeling the muscles spasm under her palm. Moving cautiously around him, her fingers trailing across his shoulders, she was startled to see his face screwed up in anguish, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

Her reaction instinctual, she reached up to cup her hand behind his neck and tugged. After token resistance, Grey allowed her to draw his head down to her shoulder, mutely accepting the comfort. Scully rubbed soothing circles at the nape of his neck, the surreal feeling of holding Mulder's brother in her arms eclipsed by the shock of his broken sobs. She abruptly recognized that in all the time she'd known Grey, though she'd witnessed him on the brink of tears, she'd never actually seen him cry. That epiphany made his current breakdown all the more significant -and heart rending.

He recovered swiftly, pulling back from Scully's embrace and swiping the moisture from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Scully let him go, allowing him the space to reapply a veneer of calm. They were both shivering by this point, so she steered Grey back inside and around the corner to a small waiting area. He watched her settle into one of the chairs, but chose to pace instead.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he said gruffly. "You've got enough of your own burdens right now without me going to pieces on you."

"Don't apologize," she replied softly. "I'd hope you would do the same for me. I don't doubt I'll be losing a few pieces myself over the next few days."

One corner of Grey's mouth struggled to curve, then gave up. When Scully silently continued to watch his frenetic movements, he threw himself into a chair and clasped his hands tightly between his knees.

"I don't think I can do this again."

Scully said nothing, merely gazed at his stricken face with compassion. The fact that she didn't respond, either by berating or persuading, seemed to frustrate Grey.

"Did you hear what I said? I don't think I can go through this again, that I can face what's coming! I love him. God, Dana, you can't imagine how much I love him, but I don't think I can be there for him this time. Not the way I want to be. Not the way he needs me to be."

"Because of Kate."

"YES! Don't you see? I look at him in that hospital bed, how weak and pale and sick he is, and I know it's going to get so much worse. They'll give him the chemo to make him better, but it will eat him alive until there's nothing left -- no trace of Fox." Grey's voice cracked. "Instead of the brother who whips my sorry butt at basketball, writes maudlin poetry when he's had too many beers, and reverts to a 10-year-old every time he steps into an arcade, there'll be this...this shell that pukes its guts out, loses its hair, and can't remember her own name let alone what happened an hour ago."

Grey slammed his eyes shut against a fresh deluge of tears, jerking when Scully placed her hand atop his. His use of the feminine pronoun had not been lost on her, and she fumbled for a response.

"You can do this, Grey, if you do it for the right person."

He yanked his hands from her touch. "What do you mean?"

"You may be looking at Mulder, but you're seeing Kate. Unless you can accept that it's your brother in that bed and not some reincarnation of your dead wife, you're better off walking out of this hospital right now." Scully tempered her tone, removing the edge that had crept into her voice. "Mulder needs your hope. If you can't give it, I'll understand, but I sure as hell won't let you give him your defeat."

Grey searched her face, then nodded. "I'm sorry."

Scully stood up, rolling her shoulders to loosen the coiled muscles. "I'm going back. I want to be there when the oncologist shows up. Are you coming?"

He ducked his head. "Yeah. You go ahead, I just need a minute."

Scully took two steps, then paused. "Make no mistake about it, Grey. I don't intend to lose him, not now. He's pulled off more than one miracle to save me, and I figure I owe him that much. And just for the record? I don't have to imagine how much. I know."

Grey was still mentally backtracking their conversation, attempting to pinpoint the trigger for her last statement, when she stepped into the elevator. Scully slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the floor indicator, wondering if Mulder was still sleeping, and wishing desperately for a decent cup of coffee. Her mind thus occupied, she exited the elevator and rounded the corner, progressing several feet before the acrid odor of cigarette smoke pulled her up short.

Lifting her head with exaggerated care, Scully looked over her shoulder to see her version of the devil incarnate standing on the other side of the hallway. When she made eye contact he inclined his head, pulling out a pack of Morleys and tapping it to extract one.

"Agent Scully."

If she had been a cartoon character, Scully's face would have turned fire engine red while twin jets of steam erupted from her ears. Instead, every muscle in her body tightened like a bow string and she grit her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Dodging an orderly pushing an empty gurney, she stalked across the open space and boldly removed the cigarette from his nicotine stained fingers.

"Smoking is prohibited in this area," she hissed, breaking the stick in half and stuffing it into his pocket. "Why don't you find someplace else to indulge in your nasty little habit?"

Ever unflappable, he smiled serenely. "Really, Agent Scully, I should think you'd be happy to see me. After all, I just may have the answers you're seeking."

"You don't have anything I want or need, you bastard! Grey remembered!"

She felt a sliver of satisfaction when the reptilian eyes betrayed their owner for an instant, revealing surprise and chagrin. Hooded once more, they regarded Scully with cool appreciation as CSM calmly removed another cigarette from the pack.

"Then you must realize the gravity of Agent Mulder's situation and appreciate the assistance I can provide."

"He's had more than enough assistance from you," Scully growled. "You've misled and betrayed him at every opportunity. Do you honestly think I could ever trust you for a cure? There is no truth in you!"

Cancerman deliberately paused to light the cigarette and suck in a long draught. He expelled the smoke and pursed his lips.

"You misunderstand me. I only claim to have the answers, not the cure. Don't underestimate your own importance in the grand scheme of things. The truth, Agent Scully, lies within *you*."

Continued in part 15

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