Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG

Summary: I feel bad for what I did to Frohike...but not that bad...

Spoilers: Didn't squeeze any in here.

Disclaimer: 1013 Productions and Fox Television are being exceeding stubborn about claiming this as their property. We'll acquiesce for now.
 

"They took my brother
They ripped him from me
To twist his words as they twisted his body..."

"Fly from Heaven," by Glen Phillips and Toad the Wet Sprocket. Copyright 1994 Sony Tunes. Used without permission.
 

Pikria
 

December 15, 1999

I think I dozed on the sofa for a couple of hours, because when I heard the phone ring again, I jumped roughly 20 feet into the air. My fault for dropping it next to my head.

"Hey." A familiar, but exhausted voice on the other end.

"Hey. Where are you?"

"Still here. Bored stupid."

"I'm not surprised. How is he?"

"In CCU. He's conscious. Haven't seem him yet." He seemed extremely annoyed. "I can't believe it. Only one that can see him is Michael 'cause he's a blood relative!"

"It does seem unfair," I conceded.

"It's like, are we not family or something? Jesus fuck! We've been around a hell of a lot more than that little shit, and he's got visitation rights!"

"Babe, I don't think this is the time to have a philosophical debate on what constitutes family," I yawned.

"Not like anybody around here'd listen, anyway. Do me a favor?" He emulated my yawn.

"Contagious, isn't it?"

"I'm tired. I'm really really really really tired."

"Can you bring me my laptop?"

"No, I can't. You have my car, and yours is lying in pieces on the driveway."

"Shit. I forgot. I was gonna do that today. Guess it's gonna be the Metro for this boy tomorrow."

"And from what you told me, the Sentra is somewhat...aromatic?"

"Oh, fuck, I forgot. Hell, I gotta go get it cleaned. Shit, shit, shit." He paused for a moment. "Frohike's is there, though."

"I have no idea where the keys are."

"Probably he's got 'em. Or had 'em, before they ripped away all his stuff. Can you believe, they took his glasses?"

"They took yours when you were first admitted, too. He'll get them back shortly."

"Byers left his ride there, too, didn't he?"

"Yes, but I'm certain he's got the keys. Babe, you're just going to have to take a time out. I know you don't want to...but I will be very upset if my car reeks tomorrow morning."

He mumbled something that I was certain constituted an obscenity.

"Besides, I'm here all alone with the girls. I really can't take off."

"Oh, yeah, the kiddies. Think we could get some help in that department?"

"Probably. I'll ask Ellen or Dana if they could stay with one of them. What time is it?"

"6:30."

"Thank God I'm off this week. I'd be dragging my tail."

"You're off till New Year's now?"

"Uh-huh. It's called a fringe benefit. Anyway, there's no way I'm going to call out the hangover brigade just yet."

"Scully's not gonna be hung over."

"Mulder just might be."

"He's okay. We called him a little while ago. He's coming over."

I should have guessed. "Well, the girls were up with me until all hours, so they're down for the count. We did get the mess cleaned up."

"Cool. Now I don't have to help." Getting out of any kind of domestic chore was always a coup for Langly.

"I also should warn you: Miranda and Frohike made the guest list for our wedding."

"Yeah?"

"They invited almost 500 people."

He took that in for a minute.

"Eleanor paying?"

"Yes, she is."

"Then whatever."

"Langly, we're talking almost 500 people here!"

"Hey, 5, 500, I don't give a fuck. I just want..." he wouldn't say it.

"Want to see Frohike escort me down the aisle?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too. Nobody else can pull off a top hat and tails like he can." I heard him laugh weakly.

"All right, I'm gonna come home and see what I can do about the car. But I'm coming back later. See if you can get somebody to look after the kiddies." Translation: I'm not doing this alone.
 
 

"Mom, you're being way too paranoid," Miranda protested.

"Miranda, for a parent, there is no such thing as 'way too paranoid,'" I shot back.

"Mom, I'm not going to Ellen's. Her kids will drive me crazy," she bounced back to me.

"Well, you guys can't stay here alone."

"Why not? Auntie wasn't even here when she got...you know, taken." This confirmed my belief that all children are lawyers at heart.

"Hey, we didn't even live here, then," Shelby added in. I was amused at how easily she included herself in the residents.

"Langly's gonna have a hissy fit if I do," I voiced my main objection.

"Mom, Langly is a walking hissy fit. He's almost as bad as Daddy!" Miranda rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Well, he doesn't want anything to happen to you guys."

"Mom, he is like so paranoid about EVERYTHING!"

I couldn't come up with a suitable argument for that one.

"How's about we stay here, we don't let anybody in the gates, we keep the phone nearby, and we call you if anything even a little weird happens," Shelby offered.

I contemplated this one. I'd been so overprotective of them for months, not letting them take the late bus home, not leaving them alone in the house for even short periods of time, not letting them go anywhere unaccompanied...no wonder they spent most of their time in the dungeon. It was the only place they could get any privacy from the flock of overbearing adults that
dominated their lives.

"Okay. Daylight hours only."

"Better than nothing, I suppose. Hey, can we go see Frohike?" Miranda asked.

"Not today. I'm not even sure I can see him. Although...I do have a plan." I grinned wickedly at them.
 

The cold snap had not abated. When Langly and Byers pulled into the driveway, it was a steamy 13 degrees outside.

"That was a most...interesting experience," Byers commented as he worked himself from the back seat of the Sentra.

"Yeah, we had to drive with all the windows down so we didn't suffocate, and the windows kept icing up, and we damn near froze," Langly whined.

"Well, I'm not sure how we're going to manage this. The water's probably going to freeze before we can get the upholstery and the carpet cleaned."

"We could put a little alcohol in the water, see if that helps," Byers suggested.

"Oh, please! We've got enough alcohol in there already to kill a moose!" A tired Langly is a grumpy Langly, I repeated to myself. Stay calm.

"I was suggesting rubbing alcohol," Byers reminded him mildly.

"Oh, yeah. I knew that."
 

"I cannot believe we are out here in this weather, cleaning up after that little shit!" Langly protested as we scrubbed the carpeting, transmission deck, and passenger seat of the Sentra.

"He certainly does like to drink," Byers shrugged.

Even with Byers' suggested potion that we cooked up, we were still having a difficult time getting anything clean without ice crystals forming all over it. The smell was sharply reduced, but far from obliterated. I was going to be driving with the windows down for a while.

"Look, it's not like it was a regularly scheduled event," I reminded them.

"What, Michael getting plastered or Frohike having a heart attack?" Langly shot at me.

"I think you know the answer to that one," I told him flatly.

"We're almost done. It's a good thing you have pets, Ally. The Nature's Miracle does seem to be helping."

"I think it still smells pretty nasty in there," Langly whined some more.

"I hope we can see Frohike later," Byers yawned. He was showing a bit of wear and tear around the edges. Even the most implacable of demeanors can only put up with so much abuse.

"We will. Don't worry about it," I assured him.

"Ally, don't try any subterfuge, okay?" Langly was impatient.

"Me, try something like that? No way. Much more basic."
 

"I'm here to see Melvin Frohike," I informed the nurse in the coronary care unit.

"I'm sorry, he's only permitted to see immediate family," she said indifferently.

"Does being his daughter count as immediate family?" I demanded.

"Well, yes."

"And why did you refuse admittance to my husband and my brother last night?" I upped the volume.

"I wasn't here last night," she remarked dully. "I only came on at 7."

"Then you have no problem with us going in," I stated.

"Two at a time."

"Fine." I motioned to Langly and Byers to move along.

When we were out of earshot, I commented smugly, "There now, that was easy, wasn't it?"

"If that nurse had been even marginally conscious, she'd never have believed us," Byers told me.

"Sure she would. You're a redhead, and so am I."

"We hardly look alike at all," Byers pointed out.

"True, but not all siblings bear a striking resemblance to each other or to their parents."

"God, having Frohike's gene pool swimming around in me. Now that's a scary thought," Langly said absently.

"You're my husband. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. We pulled that one off when I was sick, too."

"Without difficulty, I might add." I waved my peridot ring at him. "Hey, I've even got the ring now."

We decided to let Byers go in first, letting him deal with Michael, and then we'd take our turn. We found a very uncomfortable sofa and I sat down. Langly stretched out, putting his head in my lap.

"God, whoever makes these thinks all people are short," he grumbled. He tried stretching out, but ended up bunching up his knees.

"There are advantages to lack of height," I reminded him. I started smoothing his hair, which was an absolute mess by now. It also needed a bit of a scrubbing, although nothing like what it had needed when he had been released from the hospital.

"You have an elastic? It itches," he complained.

I foraged in my purse and came up with one of the elastics I carried around for work in the event I forgot to clip my hair back before I left the house. I gathered the hair into a ponytail and fastened it.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "How long's Byers gonna take?"

"Try to take a catnap," I crooned softly to him. "I know you're tired. And you don't need to get sick again."

"Don't remind me," he growled. I stroked the hair, massaged his shoulders. He seemed to calm a bit under the touch for a while, but he jumped again in a short time.

"D'ya think it was a good idea leaving the kiddies like that?" he demanded.

"Babe, I'd like to point out that the 'kiddies,' as you so lovingly refer to them, are 14."

"They're minors."

"They're minors who've just about had it with a bunch of crazy adults breathing down their necks every moment. And they're not stupid."

"Yeah, but what if..."

"Langly, nothing's going to happen to them," I tried to sound a lot more certain than I felt. I was not entirely at ease with leaving them, either, but I could understand their desire to have a bit of freedom. It'd been four months since they'd been alone at all.

"We don't breathe down their necks."

"Yes, we do. We don't leave them alone. We inquire into everything they do. No wonder they only come out of the dungeon to eat."

"Hey, might've been nice to have some overbearing adults in my life," he commented sarcastically, emphasizing the word 'overbearing.'

"You have me," I grinned evilly at him.

"Yeah, but you're only overbearing sometimes." He smiled back.

"Langly...I have to let you know something."

"What's that?"

"Uh...Frohike and Miranda put your sister and her family on the wedding guest list."

"Big deal. They'll never show," he muttered.

"You don't think your sister wouldn't show up for her baby brother's wedding?"

"No, I don't. And I don't wanna talk about it." Arms firmly crossed over his midsection indicated the onset of a stubborn attack. I went back to hair and shoulder massage, and he calmed down some. After a few minutes, he was sleeping lightly.

Time passed in infinitessimal steps. I thought about balancing the checkbook, but I couldn't very well use Langly's head for a table, and if I moved, I'd bump him and probably wake him up. I needed a cigarette and another hit of caffeine. If I moved, I 'd wake him up. I needed to hit the ladies' room. If I moved, I'd wake him up.

I stayed put. He dozed until Byers and Michael finally emerged.

Michael, never the best looking young man on the planet, looked positively ghastly. He obviously had not slept. He probably still had a hangover. And combined with worry, terror, and tears, he was a mess.

"I think he should go home and get some sleep for a while," Byers said softly.

"I don't wanna go," he protested, but he was yawning heavily.

"I think it'll help your dad more if you go home and get some rest," Byers countered him. The supreme voice of reason prevailed, and Byers put a hand behind him to motion him forward.

"I'll be back shortly. He's asleep right now, so keep it down to a dull roar," Byers admonished us.

"Let me wake up Sleeping Beauty here, and we'll go in."

Byers made a strange face. "Sleeping, yes. Beauty? Not this morning." He and Michael moved out.

I tapped the sleeping figure in my lap, now making my thighs numb. He's thin, but he still outweighs me by close to 50 pounds.

"C'mon, we're up."
 

We tiptoed into the area where Frohike was being monitored. It was even creepier than when Langly had been confined; the amount of instrumentation was unbelievable. I could barely find Frohike amidst all the equipment, and when I did, I barely recognized him. It was a bit shocking.

If it was a bit shocking for me, it hit Langly in the gut with the force of a bomb. He gasped audibly. I took his arm without looking at him; I thought he might pass out for a moment, but he grabbed his bearings in time. Still, he was very pale, and if he wasn't such a guy, he'd probably have cried.

"Try not to wake him," a nurse admonished us as she walked by.

There were two chairs, one comfortable-probably brought in for Michael, and one that was more basic. With everything in there, there was barely room for us. I pushed Langly towards the comfy chair.

"No, no, not the comfy chair!" he performed the Monty Python routine.

"I said not to wake him!" The same nurse walked by again, this time snapping at us.

"Natives are somewhat less than totally friendly here," he commented. "They were a lot nicer at GWU."

"That's probably because they got paid better and had lighter case loads." VA hospitals are notoriously understaffed and underfunded.

"And they were cuter." I smacked him for that.

"If you two can't keep it down, I'm throwing you out," the Nazi nurse walked by again. "Is that clear?"

We hushed up, and Langly flipped her off as she passed. Not only could he be the patient from hell, but he was going to add the guest from hell to his credentials.

"Babe, just settle down, okay?" I tapped him on the shoulder.

"You have your phone on?" he asked, referring to my cell phone.

"Yeah, I do. Just in case the kids call."

"Still don't think we shoulda left 'em."

"They'll be fine. We have enough to worry about right now."

He strolled over in an attempt to reach for Frohike's chart.

"I don't think you're supposed to be snooping around in that," I admonished him gently. "Remember, we do have the palace guard watching us."

"Are we on tape?" He located a small outlet in the wall, which I never would have noticed, but he confirmed to be a videocam. He waved his arms and smiled. "Hi, y'all!"

I had to laugh a little. "Baby, please. We don't want to wear out our welcome. Now sit down and behave." I knew his goofing off was a stress response, and he needed some outlet, but I didn't want us getting kicked out, either.

He settled back into the so-called comfy chair-on closer examination, it didn't look all that comfortable, but relative to mine it was probably the luxury model-and tried to relax.

"So how many people are we inviting to the wedding?"

"Miranda says the list is at - I think she said 493. So far."

"Do we know that many people?" he looked at me quizzically.

"We will after this."

"And Eleanor's writing the check?"

"Well, she didn't pay for my first wedding. With all the bitching about our getting married in Los Angeles, we decided we'd foot the entire bill. And Miranda told her she could bring all her friends."

"493. Are we gonna get to invite any of ours?"

"Relax. My mother narrowed her list to somewhere around 170. The only stipulation she put on it was that there was open bar from start to finish."

"I can live with that," he nodded agreeably. "So we've only gotta wait for the ceremony to be over, and then we can start in."

"No, I think my mother means, from the moment the guests arrive for the ceremony. I think she feels she might need some liquid assistance."

"You think she's okay with all this?"

"How should I know? Her granddaughter did the negotiating, and there's not much she'll deny her granddaughter."

"Then I'm not gonna worry about it, and neither should you."

We quieted down, and listened to the soft but insistent electronic symphony around us. It was very unnerving, not so much because of the instrumentation itself, but the fact that Frohike-our Frohike, our friend, surrogate father, loyal associate-was hooked into all of it.

I don't know how to read medical monitors, but apparently through numerous hospital visits with Mulder, Langly had picked up the basics, and he observed the numbers and lines as they passed by.

"Doesn't look too terrible," he muttered. "Not great, but not terrible. He's got a temp, though."

"I don't think that's all that unusual after a heart attack. And it's 99.7. Not even enough that I'd stay home from work."

"Ally, don't even get me started on that one," he groaned. He paused and studied the monitors some more. "You're gonna have to watch it on the cigarettes around him, you know. I don't think you oughta smoke when he's around you."

"I agree," I concurred, silently promising myself that when this was over, I'd at least severely curtail my habit.

"Freaky part is, he's not even a smoker," I added.

"Used to be. Quit a while back."

"Wow. I'm impressed with anybody that can do it." It's a horrible habit, and the worst part is that once the monkey is on your back, it's almost impossible to get rid of it. I know.

"So like did you plan on quitting anytime in the near future?" he inquired, not looking at me.

"I don't know. I kind of like the vice, actually. I do plan to cut back on it. I mean, I know it's a bad habit, but I've gotten sort of attached to it."

"Well, at least you're not a poser about it," he shrugged. "Did you call the kiddies yet?"

"Twice, and they're really getting annoyed with me, and they promised they'd call if they had problems. The cell is on, so we'll know if they do."

"Yeah, but by the time you find it in your purse, the house could've burned down." I was going to have a rough time countering that argument, mostly because it was true. "God, what do women carry, anyway?"

"Our lives."

"Then yours is way too complicated and way too heavy."

"Maybe. But I like it the way it is. There are certain things I could do without, but...I couldn't go back to being a hobbit."

"Is that how you think of yourself, as a hobbit? Guess you're the right height."

"No, more like in the sense that all Bilbo Baggins wanted was a quiet life. I was happy in my quiet life. I liked it. But somewhere, I crossed the Rubicon, and I can't go back."

"Crossing the Rubicon. Isn't that from Julius Caesar?"

"Very good. And here I thought you were classically illiterate."

"Not true. I always liked history. Took a lot of classes in it. Had enough for a minor in college, but didn't declare."

"You didn't take the languages, though."

"No, but I picked up a little."

"Why does this not surprise me?"

He grinned at me. "Don't I ever surprise you anymore?"

"All the time, babe." I smiled back.

"You still hate surprises?"

"This one I do." I waved my hand towards Frohike.

"Yeah." He grew silent for a moment. Then he opened his mouth again. "Hey, I know what your name means, Ally."

"Oh, do you now?"

"Yeah. Allison, from Alice, from the Greek word alethe, meaning truthful. And Ruth, from the Hebrew for kind. Truth and kindness. Suits you."

"Wow. Thank you. You know, I never thought about that. I do know that your middle name is from the Latin patricius, meaning person of noble birth." That got a good laugh out of him.

"That's rich," he commented. "What about the Ringo?"

"I think it means you were named after the drummer for the Beatles," I chuckled, and he did, too.

"You two are going to keep it down, or you're going to leave NOW!" the nurse passed us by again.

"We're sorry," I said gently to her. She huffed and walked on.

"Speak for yourself," Langly told me. "I'm not sorry."

"I'll remember that." I watched as he flipped her off again.

"Fucking Nazi."

Langly's muttered comment was not lost on the evil nurse. "Did you say something, young man?"

"Who, me?" He became all wide-eyed innocence.

"I'll put him in his cage," I promised the nurse.

The nurse looked us over. "If he's yours, you have my sympathy." I almost laughed out loud. Hard to believe this woman could have sympathy for anybody. Maybe she also possessed an irascible significant other. If she did, though, I suspected she beat him nightly. I'd have done that, but I suspect Langly might have enjoyed it too much.

We sat back down, and Langly grabbed the chart and thumbed through it.

"Learn anything useful?" I asked him.

"Well, he didn't have a real bad one," he shrugged. "At least they don't think so. Looks like they've got a bunch of tests they're gonna do on him pretty soon to find out."

"At least they won't have to give him a sternal puncture," I mumbled.

"God, that was so nasty. You ever seen a Silverman needle, Ally?"

"Can't say as I have, babe."

"Comes out of the ceiling, first you think it's this giant pair of scissors, then it looks like this monster drill is coming to get you, and when it hits the bone-" he shuddered.

"They did tell you not to look."

"I shoulda listened."

"Wow, this is a first."

"Anyway, I think I screamed."

"I don't know that I'd have screamed. Passed out, maybe."

"That was coming, but at least it doesn't take too long. I think. Sure felt like it did."

"I wish they'd been able to figure out what happened to you, babe. It still...it's a constant back story sort of thing. I don't think about it all the time, but when I hear you sneeze or something, I start freaking."

"Me, too."

"So when do you plan to go back to Dr. Ying's?"

"When I feel like having somebody suck my blood out again." Translation: a cold day in hell will do just fine, thank you.

"She's called and said you missed two appointments so far."

"Well, that's 'cause I'm not ready to face the vampires yet."

"It's your life, dear. Just remember that if you get sick again, I may have to kill you."

We decided to behave for a while. Langly sat down in the 'comfy chair' and I decided to return the favor of thigh-numbing to him. He didn't object. He actually put his arms around me and hugged me hard.

"Hey, Ally."

"Mmm?"

"You gotta promise me something."

"Okay."

"Promise me you don't die first, okay?"

"That's going to be a tough one, babe." I smiled softly at him.

"Just promise me you'll outlive me. 'Kay?"

"Whatever makes you happy, babe."

"'Cause if something happens to you...well, I'll..." I embraced him very close. This was a person with some serious abandonment issues, I reminded myself. And right now he's had no sleep, he's worried sick, and he's not quite rational.

"Okay, I promise." It seemed to placate him.

I heard some stirring coming from the bed. Then a voice, thin and weak, but the inflection unmistakeable.

"Hello, pretty lady."

"Frohike, you're awake!" I tried to bend over to hug him. It was hard to get at him.

He squinted at Langly. "Oh, it's you." This comment seemed to revive Langly a little. It seemed to signify to him that Frohike was at least in the world of the living.

"Nice to know I rate," Langly commented, smiling.

"Frohike, how're you feeling?" I asked, taking his free hand.

"Like I've been run over by a semi," he sighed. "How's Michael?"

"Michael's home sleeping right now. I hope. Byers took him," I responded.

"Good. That boy needs some rest." Frohike seemed to be exhausted even by this conversation, and I was thinking we needed to bail out.

"He barfed all over Ally's car," Langly added.

"Babe, I don't think he needs to be concerned with that at the moment." I shot him a Look.

"Frohike, can we bring you anything?" Langly asked.

Frohike closed his eyes. "Not right now, thank you. I just...want to sleep. I'm so tired." He was fading already.

"Would you like for us to stay?" I asked.

"No...want to be alone right now. I just want to sleep." He was drifting down again.

"If you need us, you call us," I admonished him.

"I will. Take your boy home and put him to bed, my dear." He was almost out of it completely.

I leaned over to kiss him goodbye. "Love you, Frohike."

"You too, my dear."

Langly went over and took his hand. Frohike squeezed it gently. "Behave yourself, Blonde Boy."

He was sound asleep again.
 

"We are never going to get the fucking smell out of this car!" Langly whined on the drive home.

"It'll fade, don't get all bent about it," I told him. "I'll be happy when we can put the windows up again, though. I'm freezing my ass off." The temperature in Alexandria this morning was reported at 15 degrees. I was shivering. "Besides, you're not sitting at the scene of the crime." He was driving and I was in the passenger seat, site of last night's destruction.

"Think bleach would help?"

"Probably trash what's left of the upholstery."

"Maybe you oughta sell it."

"No way. I just paid it off last January, and it's a great little car. I love this car. It doesn't give me any trouble, unlike some people's vehicles!" I was referring to the disassembled Mustang in the driveway.

"Yeah, but the Mustang doesn't reek," he reminded me.

"That's because you're about the only one that uses it. I've driven it exactly twice."

"Okay, okay." He was ready to concede defeat. "This car does go everywhere and do everything and doesn't care who it takes. I know, I know."

We came to the exit for our section of Alexandria. "How're you holding up, babe?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer me, but I could see his eyes getting shinier than usual. He sniffed hard.

I know he's a guy, and this stuff, while a bitch for anyone, is really tough for guys. I just took his hand and said nothing more.

END OF PART 39