A Winter's Tale, Part 14
Jan. 4th, 2008 06:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anjouficTitle: A Winter's Tale 14/23
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)
Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: The weekend is here! So, I'll have time to keep working toward the end.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal:anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.
As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
The reception area of Prometheus was small, clean and looked utterly unused. It looked like a set rather than an actual workplace, with its neat guest chairs and coffee table complete with carefully fanned magazines. Behind the empty reception desk, a door stood open and she followed Kurt Crawford and Mulder through it, starting when it closed behind her. She turned, only to come face-to-face with Kurt Crawford, again.
"Agent Scully!" the young man said, in a tone of subdued surprise, even though his face was still relatively affectless. She heard a ripple of voices repeat her name in exactly the same tone and turned back to see that Mulder and the first Kurt Crawford were farther down the long hall than she. In the intervening space, she could see several more Kurt Crawfords at the doors of rooms that opened off the halls. All of them were staring at her with identical expressions of curiousity.
"Scully," Mulder's voice urged her to him, and she grasped for it like a lifeline, hurrying down the hall after murmuring something that might have sounded like hello and excuse me. A ripple of sound, a whispering of Mulder's name, followed her as she moved down the corridor.
"There are a number of us here," the first Kurt Crawford said to her.
"I see," Scully said, although she did not understand at all.
"We have a lot of work to accomplish," he continued in his matter of fact voice.
As they continued down the hall, she saw the green water filled tanks in one room and shivered. Most of the rooms they passed seemed to be fully operational labs, although their passage in the corridor drew the identical occupants away from their benches and hoods to peer at them.
At the end of the corridor, they came to yet another door. "This is our infirmary," Kurt said. A clone could be seen through a window, turning on monitors and readying a bed. "Please put her on the bed, Agent Mulder."
"Hannah," Mulder said shortly as he moved through the door. "Her name is Hannah."
Kurt nodded, "Yes, so you said. For H in the series." He turned to Scully, "Do you have the data?"
Scully stared at him for longer than was polite, looking at his features and trying to comprehend their alien familiarity.
"Scully?" Mulder asked, "did you leave the bag in the car?"
She nodded, and tore her eyes away from the clone's imperturbable gaze to Mulder's troubled one. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, "I just …"
He nodded, and held out his hands for the keys. "I'll go get it," he said, "you tell him what's been happening."
Before she could open her mouth to protest further, he was moving back the way they'd come, and she was left alone with a pair of the Crawford clones.
"Could you please describe the presenting symptoms?" The clone at Hannah's bedside asked her.
Scully tore her eyes away from the first clone to find herself regarding the second. He had put a pulse oxygen monitor on Hannah's finger and was checking her vital signs. Hannah had a digital thermometer in her mouth, and was lying atop the bedclothes, still wearing her boots, overcoat, hat and one mitten. Although she had submitted to the clone's ministrations easily enough, she looked faintly terrified of the whole situation. Scully shook herself out of her reverie, and sat next to Hannah on the bed. She took the thermometer out of Hannah's mouth and handed it back to the clone for the moment, then removed Hannah's hat and mittens, and held her hand as she spoke.
"Agent Mulder found Hannah approximately six days ago …" she began, only to be interrupted by the first clone, who was now holding a clip board and a pen.
"Yes, we know," he said implacably, "but we don't know when or how she began to decompensate."
Scully closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. "More than 60 hours ago, Hannah began to exhibit signs of illness, primarily fever, rapid pulse and listlessness. Her fever has ranged from a high of 104.5 to a low of 99.4, but it has not dropped below 101 at any time for the last 24 hours. In the past 24 hours, she has developed a deep cough. Her temperature spiked to 104.5 approximately eight hours ago, despite the fact that she has been receiving a weight appropriate dose of ibuprofen for the past 48 hours."
Mulder burst into the room with the discs just as she finished.
"Mulder!" Hannah said. She sounded relieved, and Scully tamped down the momentary pang of jealousy that flared.
"Hi pumpkin," he said warmly. "How're you feeling?"
"OK," she croaked, and then began coughing. Scully adjusted the head of the bed to a higher position and asked one of the clones to get her some water.
"Is your throat sore, Hannah?" Scully asked.
"I guess so," she said. "It hurts."
"How about your chest?" Scully asked her. "Does that hurt?"
"When I cough," Hannah answered wheezily.
Scully gave her some water to sip, and continued to divest Hannah of her outerwear.
When she was under the covers in her nightgown, the clone gave her back the thermometer. "Put this under your tongue, Pumpkin," he said to Hannah in his nearly affectless voice.
Scully could feel her eyebrows rising in surprise at the clone's attempt at bedside manner. Behind her, she could hear a strangled rumble from Mulder as he choked back a laugh and tried to speak at the same time.
It was Hannah, however, who said to the clone gravely, "You should call me Hannah," with particular emphasis on the first word. Her tone was polite, but brooked no argument.
The clone, seemingly not in the least offended, nodded and reminded her to place the thermometer under her tongue. Mulder stood behind him and watched the numbers on the screen as they rose.
"103.5," he said to Scully before the clone could. "It was 104.5 early this morning."
"So Agent Scully reported," the first clone said. "I think that our best course of action would be to take some blood and other samples and see if there is any bacterial growth. Until then, however, I'd suggest that we rehydrate and begin a course of a broad-spectrum antibiotic such as amoxicillin or cephalosporin. What is your opinion, Agent Scully?"
"I concur," she said. "Hannah's fever has been elevated for too long, and she does have some inflammation of the lymph glands under her jaw. However, I'm concerned that amoxicillin might be too much of an allergen risk."
The first clone nodded to his counterpart, who exited the room. "Was there any indication of allergy in these records, Agent Scully?"
"None that I can decipher, but it can't hurt to be safe," she answered. "There were codes and abbreviations with which I'm not familiar. Perhaps you could decode some of them?"
"Perhaps," he answered smoothly. "Let me take a preliminary look at the records. In light of the lack of information, I agree that it is advisable to try cephalosporin first."
Scully nodded her agreement.
"Would you be comfortable taking the swabs and the blood samples?"
"Yes," she answered immediately. Although in truth it had been years since she'd done either, she wasn't about to let one of the clones test Hannah.
"I'll be in the lab across the hall looking at this data," the first clone answered. "You can bring the samples there when you're ready." He left the room, and Scully stood and took off her own overcoat, looking for the sink to wash her hands. She could hear the low rumble of Mulder's voice as he talked to Hannah, asking her how she felt and if she wanted to watch some TV. She tucked her rings carefully into the waistband of her skirt before she washed, and then gloved, her hands.
The clone who seemed to work at the infirmary had returned in the meantime, and was hanging an IV bag for rehydration, as well as the smaller bag of cephalosporin. Scully returned to Hannah's bedside and asked Hannah if she understood what Scully was going to do.
"You're going to stick me with that needle," Hannah said matter of factly, "and then tape it down so the stuff in the bag runs into me."
"So you've had IVs before?" Scully asked.
"Yes," Hannah said. "How long will it hurt me?" Her tone was stoic; Mulder was visibly startled and sat down on the bed, watching her closely.
"I'll try my best not to hurt you when I put the needle in, Hannah," Scully answered. Her already shaky confidence in this whole procedure was undermined by this evidence of Hannah's negative past experiences. "Do you have any numbing agent?" She asked the infirmary clone.
His brow drew down in concentration. "I believe there is some lidocaine gel in the formulary."
"Please go get it," Scully said firmly. She turned back to Hannah. "I'm going to numb your skin so the needle won't hurt when it goes in," she said to her.
Hannah looked very puzzled. "The needle doesn't bother me when it goes in," she said. "The stuff that goes inside me hurts."
Scully regarded her with a dawning dread. "Did it look like this?" She pulled the rehydrating solution off the IV pole.
"No," Hannah said, looking at the bag. "Not the stuff that hurt. It was black."
Mulder looked like he might be sick, and she knew how he felt. She had a sharp, physical memory of the feel of the black oil writhing in her veins, corrupting her. She struggled to keep her expression neutral as she addressed Hannah. "I will never put anything inside of you to hurt you, Hannah," she promised. "Never. This medicine will make you feel better, not worse."
"OK," Hannah said. She seemed pleased, but puzzled, which made Scully feel even more sad. It was clear that she had no expectation of being cared for in this kind of setting, and Scully found herself at a loss for words to explain it any clearer. She appealed to Mulder silently to help her, their eyes locking across Hannah's bed.
"Hannah, doctors are supposed to help people," Mulder said quietly, "not hurt them. The people that had you before were not good doctors."
Hannah contemplated this explanation while Scully accepted the numbing agent from the clone and smoothed it on Hannah's arm. She quietly instructed the clone to heat a blanket in the microwave while she watched Hannah.
"So that's why Heather and Hilary and Hope went away?" she asked. "Because the bad doctors didn't help them?"
Scully could not help fisting her hands in their gloves, and only hoped that her nails would not pierce them where they pressed into her palms.
Mulder was stricken by Hannah's words, but his mild expression did not change as he smoothed Hannah's hair from her face. "Yes," he said succinctly. He swallowed several times. "Were they very sick?"
"They cried a lot," Hannah said matter of factly. "It made my head hurt worse, so I would try to go back to sleep. I don't really remember it. I woke up and they were gone. I think Hope left first."
"Did you see her leave, honey?" Scully asked, wrapping Hannah's arm in the blanket.
Mulder shifted position so that he was sitting next to Hannah with his back to her pillows. He wrapped his arms around the child.
"No," Hannah said, watching what Scully was doing intently. "When I woke up, she was gone. And then I hurt some more, and then Hilary was gone."
"You were very sick," Scully whispered, still holding the warm blanket around Hannah's arm. She had never quite understood the murderous impulse as viscerally as she did at this moment.
"I thought you said I was sick now," Hannah said, confused. "It doesn't feel the same at all."
Scully reached up and touched Hannah's face, "I'm glad," she said. "Hannah, I want you to listen to me. I won't let anybody hurt you ever again."
"Oh," Hannah said. She looked at Scully with an expression of wonder. "You won't?"
"No," Scully said firmly, choking back her tears. Mulder was resting his head on Hannah's smaller one and she could see his chest heave as he tried to repress his own emotions. He was smiling at her, despite his trembling chin, as she caressed Hannah's cheek and shook her head, looking directly into Hannah's wide eyes. "Never."
"Oh!" Hannah said. She reached up and took hold of Scully's hand, hugging her arm to her chest. "OK," she said brightly.
~*~
Part 15
Author:
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: The weekend is here! So, I'll have time to keep working toward the end.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal:
anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
The reception area of Prometheus was small, clean and looked utterly unused. It looked like a set rather than an actual workplace, with its neat guest chairs and coffee table complete with carefully fanned magazines. Behind the empty reception desk, a door stood open and she followed Kurt Crawford and Mulder through it, starting when it closed behind her. She turned, only to come face-to-face with Kurt Crawford, again.
"Agent Scully!" the young man said, in a tone of subdued surprise, even though his face was still relatively affectless. She heard a ripple of voices repeat her name in exactly the same tone and turned back to see that Mulder and the first Kurt Crawford were farther down the long hall than she. In the intervening space, she could see several more Kurt Crawfords at the doors of rooms that opened off the halls. All of them were staring at her with identical expressions of curiousity.
"Scully," Mulder's voice urged her to him, and she grasped for it like a lifeline, hurrying down the hall after murmuring something that might have sounded like hello and excuse me. A ripple of sound, a whispering of Mulder's name, followed her as she moved down the corridor.
"There are a number of us here," the first Kurt Crawford said to her.
"I see," Scully said, although she did not understand at all.
"We have a lot of work to accomplish," he continued in his matter of fact voice.
As they continued down the hall, she saw the green water filled tanks in one room and shivered. Most of the rooms they passed seemed to be fully operational labs, although their passage in the corridor drew the identical occupants away from their benches and hoods to peer at them.
At the end of the corridor, they came to yet another door. "This is our infirmary," Kurt said. A clone could be seen through a window, turning on monitors and readying a bed. "Please put her on the bed, Agent Mulder."
"Hannah," Mulder said shortly as he moved through the door. "Her name is Hannah."
Kurt nodded, "Yes, so you said. For H in the series." He turned to Scully, "Do you have the data?"
Scully stared at him for longer than was polite, looking at his features and trying to comprehend their alien familiarity.
"Scully?" Mulder asked, "did you leave the bag in the car?"
She nodded, and tore her eyes away from the clone's imperturbable gaze to Mulder's troubled one. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, "I just …"
He nodded, and held out his hands for the keys. "I'll go get it," he said, "you tell him what's been happening."
Before she could open her mouth to protest further, he was moving back the way they'd come, and she was left alone with a pair of the Crawford clones.
"Could you please describe the presenting symptoms?" The clone at Hannah's bedside asked her.
Scully tore her eyes away from the first clone to find herself regarding the second. He had put a pulse oxygen monitor on Hannah's finger and was checking her vital signs. Hannah had a digital thermometer in her mouth, and was lying atop the bedclothes, still wearing her boots, overcoat, hat and one mitten. Although she had submitted to the clone's ministrations easily enough, she looked faintly terrified of the whole situation. Scully shook herself out of her reverie, and sat next to Hannah on the bed. She took the thermometer out of Hannah's mouth and handed it back to the clone for the moment, then removed Hannah's hat and mittens, and held her hand as she spoke.
"Agent Mulder found Hannah approximately six days ago …" she began, only to be interrupted by the first clone, who was now holding a clip board and a pen.
"Yes, we know," he said implacably, "but we don't know when or how she began to decompensate."
Scully closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. "More than 60 hours ago, Hannah began to exhibit signs of illness, primarily fever, rapid pulse and listlessness. Her fever has ranged from a high of 104.5 to a low of 99.4, but it has not dropped below 101 at any time for the last 24 hours. In the past 24 hours, she has developed a deep cough. Her temperature spiked to 104.5 approximately eight hours ago, despite the fact that she has been receiving a weight appropriate dose of ibuprofen for the past 48 hours."
Mulder burst into the room with the discs just as she finished.
"Mulder!" Hannah said. She sounded relieved, and Scully tamped down the momentary pang of jealousy that flared.
"Hi pumpkin," he said warmly. "How're you feeling?"
"OK," she croaked, and then began coughing. Scully adjusted the head of the bed to a higher position and asked one of the clones to get her some water.
"Is your throat sore, Hannah?" Scully asked.
"I guess so," she said. "It hurts."
"How about your chest?" Scully asked her. "Does that hurt?"
"When I cough," Hannah answered wheezily.
Scully gave her some water to sip, and continued to divest Hannah of her outerwear.
When she was under the covers in her nightgown, the clone gave her back the thermometer. "Put this under your tongue, Pumpkin," he said to Hannah in his nearly affectless voice.
Scully could feel her eyebrows rising in surprise at the clone's attempt at bedside manner. Behind her, she could hear a strangled rumble from Mulder as he choked back a laugh and tried to speak at the same time.
It was Hannah, however, who said to the clone gravely, "You should call me Hannah," with particular emphasis on the first word. Her tone was polite, but brooked no argument.
The clone, seemingly not in the least offended, nodded and reminded her to place the thermometer under her tongue. Mulder stood behind him and watched the numbers on the screen as they rose.
"103.5," he said to Scully before the clone could. "It was 104.5 early this morning."
"So Agent Scully reported," the first clone said. "I think that our best course of action would be to take some blood and other samples and see if there is any bacterial growth. Until then, however, I'd suggest that we rehydrate and begin a course of a broad-spectrum antibiotic such as amoxicillin or cephalosporin. What is your opinion, Agent Scully?"
"I concur," she said. "Hannah's fever has been elevated for too long, and she does have some inflammation of the lymph glands under her jaw. However, I'm concerned that amoxicillin might be too much of an allergen risk."
The first clone nodded to his counterpart, who exited the room. "Was there any indication of allergy in these records, Agent Scully?"
"None that I can decipher, but it can't hurt to be safe," she answered. "There were codes and abbreviations with which I'm not familiar. Perhaps you could decode some of them?"
"Perhaps," he answered smoothly. "Let me take a preliminary look at the records. In light of the lack of information, I agree that it is advisable to try cephalosporin first."
Scully nodded her agreement.
"Would you be comfortable taking the swabs and the blood samples?"
"Yes," she answered immediately. Although in truth it had been years since she'd done either, she wasn't about to let one of the clones test Hannah.
"I'll be in the lab across the hall looking at this data," the first clone answered. "You can bring the samples there when you're ready." He left the room, and Scully stood and took off her own overcoat, looking for the sink to wash her hands. She could hear the low rumble of Mulder's voice as he talked to Hannah, asking her how she felt and if she wanted to watch some TV. She tucked her rings carefully into the waistband of her skirt before she washed, and then gloved, her hands.
The clone who seemed to work at the infirmary had returned in the meantime, and was hanging an IV bag for rehydration, as well as the smaller bag of cephalosporin. Scully returned to Hannah's bedside and asked Hannah if she understood what Scully was going to do.
"You're going to stick me with that needle," Hannah said matter of factly, "and then tape it down so the stuff in the bag runs into me."
"So you've had IVs before?" Scully asked.
"Yes," Hannah said. "How long will it hurt me?" Her tone was stoic; Mulder was visibly startled and sat down on the bed, watching her closely.
"I'll try my best not to hurt you when I put the needle in, Hannah," Scully answered. Her already shaky confidence in this whole procedure was undermined by this evidence of Hannah's negative past experiences. "Do you have any numbing agent?" She asked the infirmary clone.
His brow drew down in concentration. "I believe there is some lidocaine gel in the formulary."
"Please go get it," Scully said firmly. She turned back to Hannah. "I'm going to numb your skin so the needle won't hurt when it goes in," she said to her.
Hannah looked very puzzled. "The needle doesn't bother me when it goes in," she said. "The stuff that goes inside me hurts."
Scully regarded her with a dawning dread. "Did it look like this?" She pulled the rehydrating solution off the IV pole.
"No," Hannah said, looking at the bag. "Not the stuff that hurt. It was black."
Mulder looked like he might be sick, and she knew how he felt. She had a sharp, physical memory of the feel of the black oil writhing in her veins, corrupting her. She struggled to keep her expression neutral as she addressed Hannah. "I will never put anything inside of you to hurt you, Hannah," she promised. "Never. This medicine will make you feel better, not worse."
"OK," Hannah said. She seemed pleased, but puzzled, which made Scully feel even more sad. It was clear that she had no expectation of being cared for in this kind of setting, and Scully found herself at a loss for words to explain it any clearer. She appealed to Mulder silently to help her, their eyes locking across Hannah's bed.
"Hannah, doctors are supposed to help people," Mulder said quietly, "not hurt them. The people that had you before were not good doctors."
Hannah contemplated this explanation while Scully accepted the numbing agent from the clone and smoothed it on Hannah's arm. She quietly instructed the clone to heat a blanket in the microwave while she watched Hannah.
"So that's why Heather and Hilary and Hope went away?" she asked. "Because the bad doctors didn't help them?"
Scully could not help fisting her hands in their gloves, and only hoped that her nails would not pierce them where they pressed into her palms.
Mulder was stricken by Hannah's words, but his mild expression did not change as he smoothed Hannah's hair from her face. "Yes," he said succinctly. He swallowed several times. "Were they very sick?"
"They cried a lot," Hannah said matter of factly. "It made my head hurt worse, so I would try to go back to sleep. I don't really remember it. I woke up and they were gone. I think Hope left first."
"Did you see her leave, honey?" Scully asked, wrapping Hannah's arm in the blanket.
Mulder shifted position so that he was sitting next to Hannah with his back to her pillows. He wrapped his arms around the child.
"No," Hannah said, watching what Scully was doing intently. "When I woke up, she was gone. And then I hurt some more, and then Hilary was gone."
"You were very sick," Scully whispered, still holding the warm blanket around Hannah's arm. She had never quite understood the murderous impulse as viscerally as she did at this moment.
"I thought you said I was sick now," Hannah said, confused. "It doesn't feel the same at all."
Scully reached up and touched Hannah's face, "I'm glad," she said. "Hannah, I want you to listen to me. I won't let anybody hurt you ever again."
"Oh," Hannah said. She looked at Scully with an expression of wonder. "You won't?"
"No," Scully said firmly, choking back her tears. Mulder was resting his head on Hannah's smaller one and she could see his chest heave as he tried to repress his own emotions. He was smiling at her, despite his trembling chin, as she caressed Hannah's cheek and shook her head, looking directly into Hannah's wide eyes. "Never."
"Oh!" Hannah said. She reached up and took hold of Scully's hand, hugging her arm to her chest. "OK," she said brightly.
~*~
Part 15
Lindo!!!
Date: 2008-01-05 08:51 am (UTC)a Scully ia ter um enfarte ao ver tantos Kurts juntos. E essa parte da declaração de Hannah sobre seu tratamento... que coisa doce e linda e muito bem escrita. Sensível mesmo. Parabéns. E eu espero que, já que hoje não é dia de trabalho (pelo menos não para mim ;-) que o capítulo venha mais cedo ehehehehe
Beijos
Edna - Rio de Janeiro - Brasil
Re: Lindo!!!
Date: 2008-01-05 09:32 pm (UTC)I'm glad that you're enjoying the story, and yes, I hope to post a bit earlier in the day tomorrow as well.
Take care,
Anjou