xfc: Suspicions (1 of 1) PG-13 by nikki
Niko...@aol.com
TITLE: Suspicions
AUTHOR: nikki
DATE: started 11/99 finished 1/00
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Gossamer, Xemplary, MTA fine--others, please ask
KEYWORDS: Mulder, Teena Mulder, Cigarette Smoking Man
CATEGORY: Story, angst
SUMMARY: Sometimes a videotape doesn't tell the whole story.
Fill in the blank for Amor Fati.
SPOILERS: Amor Fati
NOTES: As always, special thanks to Gerry, Sarah Ellen,
Suzi, Traci and Sally for beta, and for not
asking about all the other stories they've
betaed for me in the past year that I haven't
yet posted.
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. Please don't sue.
FEEDBACK: Always appreciated. niko...@aol.com
Come visit the rest of my fic at
http://members.aol.com/nikoleaw2/index.html
Dr. Harriman had wondered about patient Fox Mulder, from the moment
he'd been brought in. Stricken with an illness that could not be identified,
displaying medical readings that should not have been possible, attracting
visitors who had alternately displayed so much concern for his safety and
so little respect for the healing process that additional security cameras had
been installed to keep them away--this patient was a bona fide mystery. A
mystery that was making his life more and more difficult, and therefore, a
mystery that he wanted to solve.
************
12:05 AM
He had known from the beginning that she would be argumentative. She
had blown into the hospital like a hurricane well after visiting hours and
relentlessly demanded to see both him and the patient. She'd started
arguing with him about the patient's treatment as soon as he'd set foot in the
room. And now, just an hour later, he knew another confrontation was
coming. After seven years of dealing with patients who were hovering
between life and death, he'd developed a strong sense about these things.
True to his expectations, she followed him out of the room and down to
the nurses' station.
In a voice that was showing the strain of years of such encounters, he
repeated what he'd said to her only a few seconds earlier. "The treatment
regimen we currently have him on is all we can do. It's the only thing
we've found so far that's been at all effective."
While pointing down the hall towards the room they'd jut left she snapped
back, "You consider that to be effective? Why, you don't even know
which drugs or even if it is the drugs that are helping. You said yourself
that his brain is so overactive that it's killing him. And I doubt that your
drugs are helping."
Sighing, Dr. Harriman replied, "That's a possibility. But this state of
lessened agitation began when we started with this new treatment. His
heart rate and blood pressure monitors, which are generally a good
indicator of pain, have shown a marked decrease"
"But his pain wasn't eliminated." She brusquely pointed out.
"No. No it wasn't. But clearly he's more comfortable now."
She blinked at him in disbelief. "Comfortable?! He's almost in a coma!
He's completely unaware of his surroundings, he can't say or do anything.
I'd say he's closer to dead than to comfortable."
Years of medical service had also taught Dr. Harriman to pay heed to the
signs that indicated when a patient's loved one was someone likely to fight
him every step of the way. When she spoke next, he knew from her
rigidly held shoulders, the narrowing of her clear, wide eyes and the steely
tone of her voice that she wasn't going to give in easily.
"I've already told you...I want him taken off those drugs immediately.
Perhaps without so much junk in his system, his body will be able to
correct whatever's wrong for itself. At the very least, he'll know where
and who he is."
Dr. Harriman suspected that patient Mulder would be in too much pain to
know or care where or who he was, and that more at issue here than
Mulder's self-awareness was her concern that Mulder had shown no
recognition of her. Opting for the what he hoped was the path of least
resistance, he replied, "Why don't we try one more day on this treatment.
If there's no change in his status, we'll consider other options, including
withdrawing the drugs."
She searched his face, as though looking for reassurance that this was truly
the best course of action. Satisfied with what she saw, she slowly nodded.
"All right."
She was walking back down the sterile corridor towards Mulder's room
when he spoke to her from the doorway of an empty room.
"Taking him off the drugs and sending him away won't help him."
She stiffened as she slowly turned around to face him. "What in the hell
are you doing here? Haven't you already caused enough damage to my
family?"
He took a step closer to her, his expression softening as he saw the
anguish etched into the familiar lines of her face. "I heard Fox was ill.
I'm
here to offer my assistance."
Her response was little more than a menacing hiss. "I don't want your
assistance."
"Teena, don't be hasty. He's dying. There's nothing they can do for him
here. And your most recent outburst has ensured that he won't even have
the luxury of dying comfortably."
He took no pleasure in the fear and sadness that rose in her eyes, but he
had to make her understand that he was Fox's *only* hope. As he watched
her quash those emotions and straighten her shoulders to answer him, he
remembered once again why he had loved this woman like no other.
"We don't know for certain that he will die. He's survived other illnesses
that no one thought he would. He has excellent doctors..."
He cut short her justifications, calmly removing a cigarette from his coat
pocket as he presented her with his cold truth. "And not one of them
knows what's happened to him or how to treat it."
"And you would let him die. Even though you obviously know what
would save him."
He gave a mirthless laugh. "I'm not the one refusing offers of assistance.
It would seem to me that you're the one letting him die."
He had no time to dodge the fierce slap that she landed on his cheek. Her
eyes narrowed to slits as she raised her arm and pointed towards the exit.
"Get out!"
He gingerly rubbed his cheek. "I won't stand by and watch my son
needlessly die. He's too important."
Teena's eyes widened at his words. "Important to whom?"
He looked at her as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She heard an unexpected note of wistfulness in his voice when he
answered, "To me."
Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the stairwell.
Teena remained rooted to the spot for several seconds as shock at his
words wore off to be replaced by panic. She remembered all too well a
heated conversation 25 years earlier. He and Bill had told her that
Samantha and Fox's well being was the most important thing to them.
Four days later, her little girl had been taken from their home, never to be
seen again. Teena had believed that the men in her life, her husband and
her lover, would make the right decision. She wasn't going to make that
mistake again.
She strode back down the hall to the nurses' station. "I need a telephone
and I need to see Dr. Harriman."
One of the three nurses at the desk said, "Dr. Harriman is on rounds right
now and the pay phones are downstairs in the lobby waiting area."
Teena looked at the nurse and said nothing. A few seconds passed in
silence before an older nurse stood up and pointed to a wall mounted
phone halfway down the hall to Mulder's room. "Dial 9 to get out. I'll get
Dr. Harriman up here in a few minutes."
"Thank you."
*********
12:40 AM
Thirty minutes later, Teena was once again arguing with the doctor.
Standing firm, the doctor again began to list the benefits of continuing
Mulder's current course of treatment.
She stopped him before he'd even gotten started. "Because you refuse to
do as I ask, I'm having him transferred to another facility."
The doctor looked aghast. "He's in no condition to be moved! I could
never in good conscience allow that to occur."
Tired and frightened for Mulder's life, she had reached her limit with the
doctor's objections. She went on as though she hadn't heard him.
"I know of several hospitals along the Eastern seaboard that have
wonderful neurological facilities. Boston General." She looked at the
doctor and he could see a faint smile that bespoke pride and fond
memories as she said, "He was born there." Then, her no-nonsense manner
returned as she said, "He'll be transferred immediately."
"We have all of the same treatment capabilities here as any of the others
including Boston General. There's no good cause to transfer him
anywhere."
Dr. Harriman shook his head slightly and went on. "I refuse to authorize a
transfer when he's in this condition. You would have to have him
discharged against medical advice and you would be responsible for
ensuring his transport. His well-being, his life, would be your
responsibility."
She gave a small laugh. "I think I accepted that particular responsibility 38
years ago when I decided to have him." Her face and voice once again
grew serious. "Give me the paperwork that I need to sign to have him
discharged. His ambulance will be here soon."
Doctor Harriman blinked in surprise. He knew that Mulder was an FBI
agent, and as such, would have access to special services that most other
patients did not, but nonetheless, he was shocked that this seemingly
harmless-looking woman had managed to locate an ambulance service
willing to transport an AMA discharge in the middle of the night. He
quelled his suspicions that there was something more going on and simply
said, "I'll have to get one of the nurses to call down to Admissions to get
them to send up the AMA forms."
"Fine." Teena remained where she was, looking at him expectantly.
Reluctantly, Dr. Harriman turned to one of the nurses who had been
surreptitiously listening to their conversation. "Sonya, can you call
Admissions and have them send up a set of AMA forms?"
"Actually doctor, we have a set right here." She bent down and went
rummaging through a desk drawer. Her voice floated back up towards
him. "From a few weeks ago, the Klineman patient, remember?"
He nodded irritatedly. "Yes." Teena was absurdly pleased to note that it
was the same nurse who had earlier helped her locate and use a nearby
telephone.
The nurse sat back up with a small stack of papers which she handed over
to the doctor. "Here you are, sir."
"Thank you, Sonya." Turning back to face Teena Mulder, he said, "I'll fill
these out and have someone bring them to Mr. Mulder's room for your
signature."
Teena shook her head. "I'm going to go in and check on him and then I'm
going to go get some coffee and freshen up. If we're going to be traveling,
I'd like to have some semblance of my wits about me. Just show me
where I need to sign and I'll do it now."
"I need to list all of my objections, his precise medical state, why his
discharge is against medical advice and then you review that and sign your
agreement to my assessment and the terms and conditions."
Teena gave him a look that carried all of the weariness of her years. "I
*know* your assessment and all of your objections. You've made them
quite clear. I know what I'm agreeing to, that if Fox...if Fox's health takes
a turn for the worse, it's my responsibility and that I'm agreeing to absolve
both you and the hospital of all blame. You've got all these nurses here to
serve as witnesses if I should ever go back and decide to sue. It's nearly
1 o'clock in the morning, doctor. I have just made one of the most difficult
decisions of my life. Now give me the damned papers to sign so that I can
go back to my son."
Dr. Harriman realized that not only had he lost the battle, he'd lost the war
as well. Once again, he found himself wondering about this patient who
seemed to cause all those around him to disregard normal policy and
procedures. He held out the papers to her and silently pointed to the lines
that she needed to sign.
When she was done, Teena attempted to offer an olive branch to the
doctor. "Dr. Harriman, I know that you're very good and I know that this
is an excellent hospital. But I know Boston General...and I'm
more...comfortable there. And while I'm sure you believe that the drugs
are the best thing for him, I just don't agree. My decision is in no way
meant to be a reflection on your skills as a doctor."
Dr. Harriman accepted her words in the conciliatory spirit that they were
offered and said goodnight.
As he walked away, Teena felt more reassured that her plan would work.
Clearly the doctor had mistaken her unease with lying as anxiety over her
son's condition. She had no intention of going anywhere near Boston. But
if her suspicions were correct, Spender would be back here by morning to
take him away, possibly forever. She'd phoned the Director of the hospital
in Hartford, just a few miles from her home in Connecticut and enlisted his
aid. Though reluctant at first, after she'd given him a subtle reminder that
the new Stroke Recovery wing of his hospital wouldn't have been possible
without her diligent fundraising efforts, he'd become very eager to help
her, late hour be damned, and assured her that an ambulance would be
coming from Baltimore within an hour to bring her and her son back to
Hartford. It was her hope that Hartford's proximity to her home would
cause Spender to disregard it as a possible hiding place--after all, she
reasoned, logic would dictate that she take Fox and get as far away from
familiar places as possible.
************
1:21 AM
She'd been standing on the far side of the room, watching the steady rise
and fall of the lines on one of Mulder's numerous monitors when she heard
his footsteps stop outside the door.
"What are you doing back here? I want you to stay away from me and
stay away from Fox!" Her voice gave no indication of the panic she felt,
instead conveying only outrage.
"Teena..."
She angrily crossed the room and moved out into the hallway. "No! You
heard me, get away from this hospital!"
He backed up several steps, moving towards the stairwell and motioned
for her to follow him, a trace of smugness in his voice as he quietly said,
"We wouldn't want to disturb him, would we?"
"You bastard!" she hissed at him. She was too upset, too intent on getting
him out of the way to notice the nearly imperceptible nod that Spender
gave to the man that had entered into Mulder's room behind her.
Ignoring her outburst, he calmly replied, "I *can* save him Teena. Not
only from this current affliction, but from himself. No more wandering the
globe contracting odd illnesses, no more putting himself at risk to protect
to public that is neither aware of nor grateful for his vigilance. I can call
an end to his years of sacrifice. Allow him the freedom to settle down with
a nice woman, produce some of those grandchildren you used to long for.
Isn't that what you've wanted me to do all along?"
"You make it sound so benign. Pleasant, almost. Just like before, when
you assured us that your plan was the best option available to us."
He inhaled deeply from his cigarette and asked her, "Would you have been
happier if they had both been taken?" As he exhaled, he went on. "You
and Bill both knew there would be repercussions for your actions. The
option that I provided ensured that those repercussions were as minimal as
possible."
Her voice had lost its normal polished smoothness as she answered,
"Repercussions?! You destroyed my marriage! You destroyed my
family!"
"And I kept Fox alive and healthy and with you. Ensured that your oldest
child survived. That you would have a son that you would be proud of...It
was more than many of us got. But times are different now, Teena." He
extended his arm in the direction of Mulder's room. "This situation is very
different. There are no alien leaders to be placated, no tricks to be played
nor deals to be brokered...only Fox's life to be saved."
"Why? Why save his life? What do you want from him? Or is this some
further punishment of me for the choices that Bill and I made? Will you
do with Fox what you've done with Samantha? Take him away and then
torture me for the rest of my life with unprovable stories about how happy
he is and how well he's doing?"
Slowly releasing a lungful of smoke, he replied, "My intention was to
spare you further pain. To try and prevent you from sinking further into
this pit of paranoia that you've built for both yourself and Fox...No mother
should have to stand by and watch her oldest child die. Not when..."
She cut him off before he could continue. Despite her best efforts to mask
it, the agony in her voice was so strong it was nearly a palpable being,
standing in the space between them. "You're right. Watching your own
children die is something no parent should ever have to experience. But
I'm not the first mother to sit at her child's deathbed, and I doubt that
I'll be
the last."
She took a deep breath and when she resumed speaking, cold
determination had replaced the sadness he had heard only moments before.
"Nearly 40 years ago I broke solemn vows that I made before both man
and God. I gave you my soul....I won't give you my son." She pointed
angrily towards the exit, "Leave. Now. Before I call hospital security
and have you escorted out....This time, if nothing else, I won't let you take
away my ability to grieve for my own child."
He dropped his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with the heel of his
shoe. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Teena. I'm not the monster you think I
am. Everything I've done, was done for the good of everyone." Taking a
step closer to her, he reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his
hand. He was grateful that as she turned her face away, her eyes closed in
revulsion to his touch. It ensured that she never saw his other hand as he
injected her with a rapid-acting sedative nor the young man across the hall,
spraying the security camera with black paint.
The young man, having completed his first task, turned to them and
watched as Teena sagged into the older man's arms. He pointed and said,
"We'll need to get a handwriting sample from her. To fill out the
paperwork."
"I'll handle that." Spender knew better than to share his knowledge that
Teena had already signed such paperwork. To do so would let it be
known that she had suspected that something would happen and that she
had taken steps to prevent it. Wide knowledge of such an act of defiance
on her part would undoubtedly lead to her death and further questioning of
his ability to control those people whose survival he had so long insisted
upon. Better to keep that information to himself.
The young man shrugged disinterestedly and stepped forward to reach out
and take the now unconscious Teena Mulder from the arms of the older
man. He was surprised when the older man instinctively pulled her closer
to him. "I'll take care of her. Get Mulder to the facility as soon as
possible. I'll meet you there. We have a great deal of work to do."
*************
10:05 AM
Dr. Harriman was frustrated and angry. He had spent the last hour trying
to calm down an outraged FBI agent. The hour before that had been spent
reassuring a medical transport firm in Baltimore that no, the middle of the
night emergency evac order they had received had not been someone's idea
of a practical joke. He now had to face the most unpleasant task of
explaining to the hospital director that no, it wasn't commonly his practice
to lose patients. He was also going to stress the point that he had had
security and other similar concerns about this particular patient from the
beginning. He wasn't certain just how amenable the director was going to
be to his argument, but he had his suspicions.
End
Sending feedback is easier than stealing a patient out of the hospital.
niko...@aol.com
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