From: Dave phile Date sent: Fri, 10 Apr 1998 22:25:01 EDT Subject: A Sister's Musings (1/1) Title: A Sister's Musings Author: Brittany E-Mail: Davephile@aol.com Rating: G Category: V Spoilers: Tunguska/Terma and Redux/ReduxII Keywords: none Summary: Samantha's thoughts as she visits Mulder in the hospital. Disclaimer: Fox and Samantha Mulder,the black cancer, and the Cancer-man belong to CC, 1013, and FOX. They are not mine. Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, I've been reading for awhile and decided to give it a shot. This is told in first person by Samantha. I live for mail so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. **************************************************** A year ago, I was reunited with my brother, Fox. I did not want to go, but I was asked by the man I then believed to be my father. I told Fox, but he said it was a lie, that the man had kept things from me, such as his desire to see me. I did not believe him. He begged me not to go, but I did. He asked me to tell him where I could reach him, and I said I'd think about it. I was frightened then, and as I think back I see it differently. Where before I saw intrusiveness, I now see worry. Where I saw demanding I see pleading. I learned from the man I then believed to be my father, that Fox has become ill. That something has happened, an experiment with the Black Cancer gone wrong. I ask what, but all he will say is that Fox was detained and they had hoped to do some tests to determine the components of the vaccine given to him in Russia. I ask if this was voluntary, but I get no response. I am now standing outside the door to Fox's hospital room. I am disobeying direct orders not to see him, but I no longer care. I realized when I was ordered not to see him that I was being used. That if the man was my father, he didn't care for me, I was part of the agenda. Once again I am frightened by the thought of what I will find. I close my eyes and remind myself I am lucky the hospital is letting me see him at all, in his condition. I take a deep breath, count to ten, and open the door. He is either asleep or unconscious, I can't tell which. There are numerous machines hooked up to him and he's deathly pale. I sit in the chair by his bed and interlock my fingers with his. I know there is nothing the doctors can do to help him. His disease is foriegn to them, something abnormal to break the daily grind. The man I talked to showed no hope, only telling me not to become too optimistic; that they were still trying to understand his illness. "I'm so sorry," I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. He stirs and awakens. He looks at me strangely for a moment and then a warm smile spreads across his face. He seems so gald to see me, yet I can't understand why. After all I've done, I never called him to say 'hi', I never invited him over to meet his nephews. As I sit here thinking of all the lost time I realize that he's already done that. That he's trying to savor the present. I smile back at him. He opens his mouth to speak, but I can't hear what he's saying. I lean closer and he repeats his message. "I feel I'm getting better, I know it.," he says,"Tell Scully, she'll be worried." I nod and tell him I'll be back tomorrow, but I have to leave now. He understands, but still watches me leave with a sorrowful look on his face. But I am coming back tomorrow, and every day, until he gets better. And then maybe I will call and invite him over. I look to the future as a time of hope, and it's coming. end. -Did you like it? Did you hate it? E-Mail me, (pleassseeeee) at Davephile@aol.com "Well let's start the insanity,"Jerry Seinfeld