TITLE:  Ersatz Promises (7/8)
AUTHORS:  Susanne Barringer and Suzanne Schramm
EMAIL:  sbarringer@usa.net; sister_suze@yahoo.com
Info and disclaimers in part 1.

Missing chapters available at 
http://www.geocities.com/s_barringer/ersatz.html


~~~~~~~~~~~~


CHAPTER 7


"A Samantha."

The words don't register at first.  I blink and take a couple of 
steps back  while I try to understand what just happened.  
Scanlon shrugs, spreading his hands in a "what's a guy to do?" 
gesture.

Then comprehension sinks in and my whole body feels ice cold.  My 
arm has become too heavy to keep the gun trained on him, and it 
drops to my side.  I shake my head in disbelief, unwilling to 
accept anything this man might say as the truth.  He's just 
trying to rattle you, I tell myself.

Scanlon sags against the wall, apparently as drained as I am by 
our little tete-a-tete.  The gun drops from my numb fingers, 
clattering loudly on the bare wooden floor.  For a split second, 
our eyes meet. 

Scanlon dives for the gun.  The movement sets the rage building 
inside me into motion.  I tackle him, finding a small measure of 
satisfaction in the grunt he makes when he hits the floor.  The 
gun slips from his grasp, spinning crazily out of reach.

We struggle, grappling and straining across the cold surface of 
the floor.  Scanlon is slightly taller and heavier than I am, but 
he isn't nearly as motivated.  His elbow delivers a sharp blow 
beneath my chin, leaving my ears ringing and the taste of blood 
in my mouth.  I reciprocate with a solid punch across his left 
cheek that makes my knuckles scream.

We both lunge for the gun, but it slides out of reach again.  I 
squirm away from Scanlon, stretching until the gun just brushes 
the tip of my fingers.  I flex my fingers, willing the gun 
closer.

Scanlon flips me, but doesn't break my grip on the gun.  I shove 
it under his chin and he tries to move backwards, but doesn't get 
far because I've got a handful of his shirtfront.

"You're going to help her."  I wobble to my feet, pulling him 
with me.  "I don't care how, or what you have to do, but you're 
going to fix this."

Scanlon shakes his head.  "I already told you, there's nothing we 
can do."

"Try again!"  I chuck him under the chin with the gun.  "If you 
can't fix it, then you're of no use to me.  Do you know what I 
mean?"

That's no idle threat.  I've never meant anything more in my 
life.  Scanlon's eyes turn into glittering little marbles when he 
realizes this.

"Maybe," he licks his lip and tries to turn his head away from 
the gun.  "Maybe there's something else we can try."

***

We get a few second glances in Healthquest's lobby, but no one 
asks why we look bruised and rumpled.  The fourth floor is 
deserted, and I remember that his was the only name on the 
marquee for this floor.  

Scanlon stops in front of a door and punches a code into the 
keypad on the wall.  The door opens to an dark and empty 
laboratory.  "A few years ago there were nearly a hundred people 
working in this lab."  He shakes his head sadly, as if its 
current disuse is the greater crime.

He flips a switch and the overhead lights blink and hum to life.  
Our footsteps echo eerily as we walk through the deserted lab.  
Scanlon stops in front of a cabinet and pulls a key ring from his 
pocket.  He sorts through the keys, trying a couple of them 
before finding the right one.  

Inside the cabinet are several narrow metal boxes.  Scanlon takes 
one from the top shelf and opens it, extracting a clear vial 
filled with greenish fluid.  He hands the vial to me.

"What's this?" I ask.

"The vaccine that was developed in anticipation of the alien 
invasion."

"How will this save Scully and the baby?"

Scanlon looks disconcerted.  "You can't save them both."

I hold the vial up to the light, discerning nothing miraculous.  
"This will save Scully?"

Scanlon doesn't answer, of course.  This isn't a cure - it's 
speculation.  But it's the only chance Scully has left.

***

Back at my hotel room, I take the vial out and set it carefully 
on the nightstand.  The fluid inside is the same eerie green 
color of Emily's salvation and ultimate demise.  Scully rejected 
the ability to prolong Emily's life, but I wonder if she would 
change her mind now, after having carried the child within her.

How could they do this?  The collected grief of over twenty years 
has become too heavy a burden tonight.  The vial turns hazy, 
replicating itself like so many Samanthas through the filter of 
my tears.  I think of my sister, abducted and used as a lab rat.  
Was that truly her last year, pleading with me to stay out of her 
life?  Or was she a clone, too?  Is Sam even still alive?  Or 
does she survive only as a tissue sample to provide DNA?  

What about the vacuous and mute Samanthas that I found in Canada?  
Are they still tending bees somewhere?  Or have they outlived 
their usefulness?  A sob catches in my throat as I remember how 
desperately I wanted to bring one home for my mother.  Even with 
the knowledge that she should have been an adult, not still a 
child, I wanted to believe that it was Sam.  I wanted to be able 
to start over.  I wanted to make up for all the lost years.

Hot tears slide over my cheeks as I breathe in anguished gulps.  
Now there is another generation of Sams, and there doesn't seem 
to be a damn thing I can do to save them either.  In fact, by 
this time tomorrow I will have given Scully the means to destroy 
one of them.  I will plead with Scully to do it.

The irony of my quest is heartbreaking.  I've sought my sister, 
finding her again and again in various forms.  With the possible 
exception of the Sam the Cigarette Smoking Bastard dangled in 
front of me, none of them were really her.  They were just carbon 
copies that were missing the soul of the original.

Tonight I would trade my soul to change it all.  If only my 
father had given them me, instead of Sam.  None of this would 
have happened to her.  

None of this would have happened to Scully.  

That thought is enough to destroy me.  I lie on the bed, 
whispering Scully's name while my heart breaks at the decision 
that must be made.  

/"You can't save them both."/

***

"What happened to you?"  Scully takes my hand, turning it over 
for a closer look at my bruised knuckles.

"Let's just say I have a propensity for finding bastards."  I 
slip my fingers from hers and touch her cheek, tilting her face 
up.  The circles beneath her eyes are darker than before.  Worry 
lines are etched into the corners of her mouth and extend from 
her eyes - how long have those been there?   "How are you doing?"

Her eyes close, her head resting heavily against my palm for a 
moment.  "Tired."

That she would admit it frightens me even more than her physical 
appearance.

"I have nothing, Mulder.  Dead ends, dead mothers, dead babies.  
I hope you found something."

I take the vial from my pocket and hold it up between us.  
Scully's eyes widen slightly and then look back at me, 
questioning.  I gesture to the sofa and we both sit down.  I set 
the vaccine down on the coffee table and take her hand, giving 
her fingers a small squeeze.

We both stare at the vial, innocent looking, yet carrying the 
weight of tragic finality.  How do I tell her?  What do I tell 
her?  Those questions have haunted me since last night.  I still 
have no answer, no good starting point.  I take a deep breath and 
begin.

"I found Dr. Scanlon, Scully."

She winces.  I'm not sure if it's from the memory of the time she 
spent embracing death in Allentown or fear of what I'm about to 
say that pains her.  Maybe both.

"They were running a fertility clinic in Doylestown.  They were 
experimenting with the hybrids."

"It's not mine," she murmurs, still watching the vial blithely 
resting on her coffee table.

"No," I can barely choke out the word.  I can't look at her, or 
the vaccine, so I close my eyes and wish this part were over, 
that this god-awful moment in our lives had passed. 

"It's killing you, Scully.  This baby, this hybrid, she's half 
alien."

Scully crosses her arms, hiding her abdomen from the truth for 
just a few moments more.  I keep going, powerless to stop now 
that I've started.

"They chose you because they believed that abductees might have a 
better chance of carrying a hybrid fetus.  It turns out that the 
opposite was true.  Scanlon admitted that non-abductees have been 
used with success.  But the fetuses depleted the abductee 
mothers."

Scully bites her lip, her mind already understanding the 
conclusion I can't bring myself to tell her.  "This pregnancy is 
doing the same thing to me that it did to those women in 
Doylestown."

I nod, not trusting my voice.  Scully leans forward, closer to 
the vial, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"And this?"  She almost picks it up, but at the last second she 
draws her hand back.

"It's a variant of the vaccine I gave you in Antarctica.  Since a 
hybrid is half-alien, it should be lethal to..."  My voice trails 
off, unable to say the words out loud.

"And that's it?  I just inject this?  What makes you believe that 
Scanlon is telling the truth?"

She's right, why should we trust Scanlon?  What if he's trying to 
get rid of all the evidence, Scully included?  I shake my head 
slowly.  There's no way I can honestly answer that.

"You said 'she.'"  Her features are pinched with grief.  I know 
she's thinking of Emily, of opportunities lost forever.

"It seemed wrong to say 'it,'" I lie.  I can't tell her the 
truth.  "The baby in Doylestown was a girl.  I just started 
thinking of this one as a girl, too."

Scully picks up the vial, tilting it a little as if to discern 
its secrets.  "If the Turner's baby had been born later, if her 
lungs had developed just a little more, she might still be 
alive."

"You don't know that."

"No.  But I don't know that it's already too late to save this 
baby."

I wince and reach out to touch her knee, wanting a connection 
with her so that she understands just how important this is to 
me.  "You have to save yourself."  

"Why?"

That single word shreds what is left of my soul.  Why do this, 
Scully?  Because I need you.  Because I can't lose you.  Because 
I will never be able to find the men responsible for this without 
you.

"So you can save the others," I rasp out past the fear rising 
inside me.  "It's not just you, there are others out there.  But 
you and I, we know now.  We can stop them from doing this to 
others."

Scully sets the vial down and clasps her hands in her lap.

"I can't do this alone.  I need you, Scully.  If you die because 
of this..."  The enormity of her decision and her sense of 
justice frighten me.  What if she decides that thirty-some-odd 
years are enough for her and that she cannot cheat this child of 
a slim chance at life?

She bows her head.  "I need some time here, Mulder."

My stomach twists into a knot.  I stand up, wishing desperately 
that I could take this moment away from her.  I wish that this 
had never happened, that I could fly around the world like 
Superman and turn back time for her to the day she walked in my 
office and started down a dark and dangerous path.  Instead, I 
walk away.

I glance behind me before I shut the door.  She is still sitting 
on the couch, her shoulders hunched over as if they hold the 
weight of the world.


*****

End 7/8

~~~~~~~~~~~~

REMINDER:  This story is set during the 6th season.  "Closure" 
has not happened.  And for some of us, it never will.  ;)