"An Invaluable Link in an Infinite Chain"

Author:  Surreal (feedback please! surreal666@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13 for mild language
Category: Gunmen angst, Scully angst...some humor (I tried)
Spoilers: "Memento Mori", tiny bit of "Three of a Kind",
 gizzie & Martha's work for some names
Takes place BEFORE season 7 finale! 
Archive: Yup
Summery: The gang rallies support when one of the Gunmen is
abducted.
Disclaimer: Chris Carter is stuck with them for at least another 
year, but I'm just borrowing their names.
Also, I'm using Jessica Raine's character "Moira" without her 
permission, cause I can't get a hold of the author!  As with my last 
story, the title came from an Elvis Costello song

Part 1/2

6:42pm
Mulder's apartment

    "Mulder." He answers his phone on the second ring. A pause.  
"Frohike?  What's wrong?"
    "We can't find Langly," Frohike's voice is as near panic as 
Mulder had ever heard it.  "He went to meet someone this 
morning and hasn't come back yet.  Byers is freaking out," 
('so am I') "we've looked everywhere we can think of, he's 
just gone!"
    'I guess a missing persons report is out of the question,' 
thinks Mulder.  "All right, I'll be right over, you guys can fill me 
in on what you know so far."


8:25pm
Lone Gunmen headquarters

    "This just isn't like him.  He may be disorganized, but he'd at 
least check in with us before going anywhere."  Byers insists.  
    They had spent the past hour going over the details of the 
past few days with Mulder.  Langly had received an e-mail that 
someone wanted to meet with him, alone, to give him classified 
information about underground medical experiments on humans.  
This morning, he'd gone to meet the informant.  Frohike tried to 
get him to wear a wire, or some kind of hidden surveillance 
device at least, but Langly refused, insisting that this was too 
important to risk getting caught with "narc tags".  He'd even left 
his cell phone at the office.  The other two gunmen waited for 
him to come back, getting more nervous with each passing hour.  
Finally, they got into Langly's e-mail, found the address of the 
meeting place and went after him.  They found his van 
abandoned, no sign of their youngest roommate.  They proceeded 
to scour the city looking for him, eventually ending up back at 
headquarters with nothing to show for it.  They began the 
computer search, checking local hospitals and police stations 
for anyone matching Langly's rather unique description.  Unable 
to find anything, Frohike finally called Mulder for help.  
    "What do you need me to do?"  Mulder asked.
    The two Gunmen looked at each other.  They were obviously 
frustrated and concerned.  "We don't really know...I guess we 
just need more help looking," Byers replied hesitantly.  
    "Of course.  I'll call Scully, and we can try to figure out 
what's going on."


Two days later
3:20pm

    Mulder and Frohike are in Mulder’s' car searching the park Langly 
disappeared from, while Scully is in their office at FBI head-
quarters.  She is writing a report trying to explain (without using 
any names or places) what the agents have been doing for the past 
three days.  Skinner was practically breathing down her neck 
looking for answers that they were not willing to give yet. 
    Back at the Lone Gunmens’' office, Byers is waiting for news from 
the others while hoping that Langly will return home on his own.  He 
rechecks all the databases they have been checking for days, with no 
luck.  The police scanner is running quietly in the background.  
Rubbing his jaw half out of exhaustion and half from frustration, 
he found himself staring at Langly's empty workstation.  This must 
have been the longest period of time that worn-out laptop has been 
closed since its purchase.  'Where the hell are you, Ree?'
    Sudden movement on the alley surveillance camera catches his 
eye.  
    "Oh my god..." he whispers at what he sees.  Langly stumbles 
toward office, leans heavily against the door and weakly pounds 
a fist against it.  Byers is on his feet and at the door instantly, 
frantically unlatching the many deadbolts.  He pulls open the door 
and just barely catches the younger man as he collapses toward 
the floor, the door no longer supporting him.  Langly is trembling 
badly and his left arm is bleeding from a large gash.  Byers half-
carries him toward the beat-up couch across the room and sits 
him down, then runs to get a blanket.  On his way back he grabs 
Langly's cell phone from the desk, then sits on the couch with his 
fellow gunman.  He wraps the blanket around Langly's shoulders, 
then quickly dials.


3:34pm
 
   "Frohike," he answers his phone before the first ring stopped.  
    "Langly's back," says the caller.  Frohike's eyes widen at the 
both words and the frantic tone of Byers' voice, and he looks 
over toward Mulder, who was driving.  "We're on our way."
    Mulder sees the look on Frohike's face, a mixture of relief and 
concern.  He immediately turns the car around and drives back 
toward the Gunmens' office as Frohike dials Scully's number and 
tells her the mixed news.


3:50pm

    The two cars pull up at nearly the same time, Scully getting out 
last and catching the worried looks on the faces of Mulder and 
Frohike.  The three run to the door, Mulder's arm poised to knock 
before he realizes the door was already slightly ajar.  His eyes 
widen and he looks at Frohike, who's jaw had dropped at the sight 
of the open door.  Mulder places his hand on his gun as they push 
the door open the rest of the way.  
    "Byers?" Frohike calls cautiously.  The new arrivals stop dead 
in their tracks when they spot the two younger gunmen sitting on 
the couch.  Langly is hunched over with a blanket wrapped around 
his back, his arms crossed tightly around his abdomen, his head 
hanging weakly, dull, tangled hair draped so that his face is 
hidden.  He is still trembling badly from fear, cold, and 
exhaustion.  Byers is sitting very close, his left arm wrapped 
tightly around his friend's shoulders.  They could hear Langly 
crying softly, and Byers looks up.  His eyes were shining with 
moisture, not from any of the emotions they saw in Langly, but 
from anger. 
    The others stay back, stunned, not sure what is happening.  
Byers answers their unspoken question.   He reaches up and 
brushes Langly's hair away from the back of his neck.  There, 
at the base, they could see a small incision, still wet with blood.  
Suddenly, they understand.  Scully unconsciously grabs the 
back of her own neck, feeling the tiny scar at the base.  Byers 
sees her reaction and gives her a small nod.  
    "Scully, can you get your medical bag, please?  Frohike--the 
metal detector," Byers instructs his friends in a quiet, unsteady 
voice.  Scully nods and darts out the door toward her car.  Frohike 
lets out the breath he had been holding and heads down the hall to 
get the palm-sized device.  Mulder is not sure what to do, so he 
takes a seat near the worktable and watches as Byers silently 
holds his shell-shocked friend.  
    Scully returns with her medical bag and approaches the two 
men on the couch.  She gives Byers a questioning look, silently 
asking for assistance.  
    "Langly?  Scully needs to look at the cut on your arm.  She 
won't hurt you, okay?  Is that all right?" he gently asks the 
tightly huddled young man.  Langly sniffs, glances up at Byers, 
then at Scully, and nods hesitantly.  Kneeling down next to his 
knee, she sees that he is not wearing his glasses, and his 
normally bright blue eyes look darker and softer than she 
remembered.  In that brief glance she saw in his face very 
familiar and complex emotions; pain, confusion, fear, and so 
many more that she had never seen in him before.  She very 
gently takes Langly's left hand and pulls his arm toward her 
so she can see the cut.  It is deep, but she does not think he 
will need stitches.  She takes out a disinfecting wipe and 
carefully cleans the drying blood off his arm, forcing 
herself to focus on the immediate problem, ignoring Langly's 
painful winces and the faint memories of a shared abduction.  
She can feel him trembling, his skin cold and pale.  She gives 
Byers a helpless look, not sure where to even begin trying to 
help Langly.
    Byers catches Scully's look.  His jaw tightens, and he gives 
her a single nod.  "I'm going to get him cleaned up.  Frohike?" 
he looks toward the short man now standing at the desk.  "Pull 
up Scully's medical files." He did not need to tell him which 
files he meant.  Frohike nods silently, not trusting his voice 
as he watches his roommates.  
    Byers turns back to Langly.  "Hey, buddy.  Come on, let's get 
you cleaned up," he tells him softly as he kneels on the floor, 
looking up at the blond man's face.  Langly looks at him, his eyes 
wide, studying the bearded man.  After a moment, he slowly nods 
and allows Byers to pull him to his feet and guide him down the 
hall toward the living area of the building.  Langly looks so 
broken; his arms tightly hugging his chest, his head hanging 
weakly as he shuffles in front of Byers.
    The three people remaining in the office silently watch them 
disappear down the hall.  Scully can feel her stomach twist in 
anger and sympathy; she realizes how lucky she was not to 
remember most of her abduction and time spent in the hands of 
the Syndicate.  They already figured that Langly had not just 
been let go after only three days; he had somehow escaped, his 
memory of the experience intact.  Scully reaches over and 
gives Frohike's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  He looks at her 
briefly and sits down heavily in front of Byers' computer.  He 
knew exactly where Scully's files were.
    The two agents stand in silence as Frohike retrieves the 
relevant files.  Scully recognizes the images and data filling 
the screen; blood test results, branched DNA sequences, and 
everything they could gather on the tiny microchip that had 
been removed, then later reimplanted in her neck.  In the silence
they could hear sounds coming from down the hall: water running 
in the shower, coughing, soft voices.  After about forty-five 
minutes they heard footsteps, then a door closing.  


6:15pm

    Another half an hour went by before they heard footsteps again, 
this time approaching them.  All three look up as Byers leads Langly 
back into the office.  Langly is wearing a clean t-shirt and jeans, 
his hair combed back and dark blond from the remaining water.  He 
looks better, more comfortable than when he had first shown up.  
There was also a bandage covering the cut on his arm.
    Frohike pulls open a desk drawer, digging for a moment before 
producing a pair of black-rimmed glasses, one of Langly's spares.  
He offers them to the younger man, who looks at him for a moment 
then reaches for the glasses.  
    "Thanks," Langly whispers, putting them on.  He was beginning to 
physically resemble the man they knew, but his mental state was 
still anyone's guess.
    Byers gently steers Langly into a chair in front of the work-
station, quietly telling him to sit down.  Scully glances up to see 
Byers giving her a look that told her to come with him.  She follows 
her fellow redhead into the kitchen.  She watches him silently as 
he moves around quickly, putting water on the stove to boil and 
digging in the cupboards, eventually coming up with some tea.  He 
catches her questioning look, and softly explains.  "Before I could 
get him into the shower he got sick.  I don't think he's eaten 
anything since he, um, since he's been gone."
    Scully nods, remembering the coughing she had heard a while 
ago.  "Tea is a good idea, it'll help settle his nerves."  
    Byers nods absently, then stops for a moment, pressing his hands 
against the countertop and letting his head hang between his out-
stretched arms.  Scully could hear him trying to steady his 
breathing.  She walks over to him and places a hand on his back 
while he struggles for control.  She knew what he was going 
through, having to put a dear friend back together one piece at a 
time, not sure if all the pieces are even there.  "God, Scully, I've 
never seen him like this before;  I don't know what to do..."
    "He'll be okay.  He's lucky to have you guys here to help him," 
she tells Byers softly.  She felt him take a deep breath, then wipe 
his tear-stained cheek against his arm.  Scully pulls him toward 
her, embracing him comfortingly.  She wraps her hand around 
him and holds the back of his neck tightly, and he lets his chin 
rest on her shoulder.  After a few minutes he pulls back, looking 
into her eyes.  Her throat tightens when she sees how vulnerable 
he looks.  "We'll get through this.  At least this time we know 
what we're dealing with and we *will* help him."  
    Byers sniffs and nods gratefully, giving her a shy smile.  He 
appreciated her strong presence, and the fact that she included 
herself and Mulder in the equation.  She squeezes his shoulder, 
then helps him with the tea.

6:40pm

    Byers and Scully exchange a look of pleasant surprise when they 
rejoin the others in the office.  Langly had pulled his chair up 
next to Frohike and is studying the computer screen with Mulder 
and his fellow Gunman.  He glances up as Byers hands him a cup 
of tea, quietly thanking him and taking a cautious sip.  Byers 
moves to stand behind Langly's chair, resting his hands 
protectively on the blond man's shoulders.  He looks at the 
computer monitor; they are studying the gathered data about 
Scully's microchip.  
    Glancing at Frohike, he gathers the courage to ask.  "Did you 
guys check for a chip?" he says, nodding toward the metal detector.  
    Before he could answer, Langly cut him off, voice surprisingly 
full of anger.  "You don't need to.  It's there."
    The others look at him, barely hiding their shock at his sudden 
harsh tone.  Scully puts a hand on his uninjured arm.  "Were you...
conscious...when they...?" she asks him carefully, eyes wide with 
disbelief.
    He nods, haunted eyes fixed on the table in front of him.  "I 
think it was about two days ago."
    "Jesus," Frohike mutters under his breath.
    The next few moments were painfully quiet as they considered 
the cruelty Langly had endured during his abduction.  He finally 
broke the silence himself.  "Well, as I see it I have two 
options.  If the chip stays in, they can track me down.  If we 
take it out, I'll get cancer and d...yeah.  You know the story."  He 
had made a point not to look at Scully as he vocalized the second 
option.  He felt her hand tighten on his arm slightly.
    "They won't take you again," Mulder spoke up.  "They took you
as a warning to all of us.  To let us know they know about you 
guys."
    Langly nods in agreement.  "I think you're right."  He puts the 
cup on the table and absently reaches to the back of his neck, 
wincing slightly at the contact.  
    "Pain?" Scully asks in a concerned voice.
    "Just a little sore.  I think I'll go look for some aspirin."  
He stands up and starts toward the bathroom.  Suddenly he stops, 
his head tilted down and brings his right hand to his face, his 
back still to his friends.  "Shit," he curses, muffled by his hand 
and barely audible.  He turns back around, and they can see dark 
red on the back of his hand and upper lip.  His nose is bleeding.
    Scully moves quickly to him, her arm wrapping around his 
waist supportively as she leads him toward the bathroom. 
    The three remaining men look at each other, stunned.  No one 
ever mentioned a third option...


7:10pm

    "Oh, man.  Scully, did you ever get nosebleeds *before* they 
took the chip out?" Langly asks her, his voice muffled by the 
wad of tissues he is holding to his nose.  He takes off his glasses 
and sets them on the counter next to the sink.
    "No, but this isn't necessarily related.  You're dehydrated, and 
that can cause nosebleeds," she tells him, trying to convince 
herself as well.  He gives her a disbelieving look, then nods.
    He wipes his nose harshly.  "I think it stopped," he mumbles, 
wetting a clean tissue and scrubbing the remaining blood off his 
face and hands.  
    "Yeah, looks like it.  You should drink some water, and we'll 
keep an eye on you."
    He smiles at her weakly, the damp shine in his eyes giving away 
his fear.  "Thanks.  I saw the blood, you know, and just thought..." 
he trails off.  
    Scully can only nod, trying hard not to show her own weakness 
in front of the already fragile Langly.  She reaches out and embraces 
him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder.  She feels his wiry 
arms wrap around her, surprisingly strong.  "You're going to be okay, 
Langly."


7:42pm

    "You okay?" Byers asks apprehensively as Langly and Scully walk 
back into the office.  
    "Yeah, thanks," Langly answers.  He smiles at his fellow 
Gunmens' uncertain exchange of glances.  "Really, I'm fine.  Just 
need some water, that's all," he insists, heading for the kitchen.  
    After he disappears, they turn to Scully.  She shrugs, forcing 
herself to stay professional.  "I don't know," she says quietly.  
"It's probably just dehydration, but considering what we're dealing 
with...just keep an eye on him, okay?"
    "Of course," Frohike says, with Mulder and Byers nodding 
emphatically in agreement.  
    "So, what kind of stats do we have on my new little friend?" 
Langly asks as he returns.  He leans over Frohike's shoulder to 
peer at the chip specifics on the monitor.  
    "Not as much as we'd like," Frohike answers.  "Basically, we 
just know that it works, and what kinds of components it has.  
As for *how* it works..." he trails off reluctantly.  
    Langly sighs and straightens up.  "If we knew *how* it worked, 
we would have the cure for cancer."  His partners nod in agreement 
as they continue to study the screen.  
    Scully glances up to see Langly absently rubbing the back of his 
neck, wincing slightly.  "Did you find any aspirin?"
    He looks at her distractedly.  "Mmm...no, guess I forgot..." he 
mutters.
    "Hang on, I think there's some in my bag," she starts toward the 
couch where she had left the medical bag.  Langly turns to follow 
her, then suddenly grabs the back of Frohike's chair, unsteady.
    "Whoa, hey," Mulder says as he reaches out to lend a supporting
hand.  
    Scully looks back just in time to see Langly collapsing, and 
Mulder catch him before he hits the deck.  The agent eases the 
semi-conscious man the rest of the way to the floor onto his back, 
keeping an arm under his head.  
   Kneeling next to him, Scully presses her hand to his throat.  His 
pulse is very fast and thready.  "Langly?  Can you hear me?"  His 
eyes stay closed, but she can see him nod slightly.  "Good, that's 
good.  I need you to stay with me, okay?  Can you tell me what 
just happened?"
    "Felt dizzy...," he mumbles, his eyes opening halfway to look 
at her.
    Scully knows the feeling all too well.  "Okay.  Just lie still 
for a few minutes, it'll pass."  She glances up at her partner, 
exchanging a worried, knowing look.
    Byers suddenly speaks up;  "I have an idea about what's 
happening."  He strides quickly across the office space to a storage 
cabinet.  After searching for a moment, he produces a small, hand-
held electronic device.
    "What is that?" Scully asks him.  Langly struggles to sit up, 
curious as well.  Mulder helps him into a sitting position, leaving 
his hand on the younger man's shoulder for support.  
    "It's a scanner; it picks up electric currents on a very small 
scale.  We usually use it to search for bugs and stuff," Frohike 
explains.  He has picked up on what Byers is thinking.
    Byers crouches down next to Scully.  "Do you mind?  I'd like to 
see if your chip puts out a current."  She obediently tilts her head 
forward, exposing the back of her neck.  Byers places the scanner 
next to her skin; a small red light on its face blinks weakly.  
"There.  It's very weak, but it is active.  Langly?"
    Langly copies Scully's actions, pulling his hair out of the 
way.  The scanner is placed directly above the still-fresh cut.  
Nothing.  The light does not move.
    "Damn, Byers, you were right.  No activity," says Mulder in an 
awed voice.    
    "That mean what I think it means?" Langly reluctantly asks.  
    "Looks like it, dude.  They gave you the same cancer, but you 
jumped ship before they could activate the implant,"  Frohike tells 
him bluntly, then softens when he sees his friend cringe.  "I'm 
sorry." 
    Langly closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair, letting 
it rest on the back of his neck.  "Fuck."
    Scully places her hand on his shoulder, thinking hard.  She 
looks up at the computer again.  A thought is forming...
    "Hey, you guys have a really detailed map of that chip.  Do you 
think if we took his out, you could compare it to mine and figure 
out how to activate it?"  She knows she is reaching, but their 
options are quickly running out.
    Frohike exchanges an uncertain glance with Byers.  "Honestly, 
no, we couldn't.  We don't have the kind of equipment we would 
need for something that delicate.  Besides, Langly's the micro-
computing expert..." he reluctantly explains.
    "And at the rate this thing is progressing, I won't be able to 
focus on something like that," Langly finishes for him.
    Another uneasy moment of silence as they reach for more 
answers.  
    Mulder is the first to break the silence.  "You guys feel up 
to sneaking into FBI headquarters?"  Four heads snap up to stare 
at him in awe.  
    Realization sweeps across Scully's face.  "Doug works pretty 
late in the lab, doesn't he?" 
    Mulder nods.  "If anyone can do this, he can."
    The Gunmen exchange uncertain glances.  "Who's Doug?" 
they ask in unison.
    "He's a lab technician, one of Agent Pendrell's former 
assistants.  He kind of took over for Pendrell," Scully explains.  
"They were the ones who figured out what the implant was."
    "Oh," Langly replies quietly.  He remembers what Pendrell 
meant to the agents.  He also knows that they trust this guy.  
"Well, then, looks like we have a new option," he says as 
Mulder pulls him to his feet.  "Let's go."


9:12pm
FBI Headquarters
Microcomputing lab

    "Another one?  What did you people do to piss these guys off so 
much?" Doug Rollins asks after Mulder explains why they are there.  
When he sees the cold look the agent gives him in return, he backs 
down.  "What do you need me to do?"
    "We need you to turn it on," Mulder answers matter-of-factly.  
    "Um, I'm not sure how to do that," Doug reluctantly explains.  
"We destroyed a lot of those chips trying to figure them out when 
Scully first brought them to us years ago.  The technology is so 
delicate, we're not even sure who *has* the ability to work on 
them."
    "Well, if you don't figure it out in the next few hours, my 
friend is going to die."
    Doug pales at the angry tone in Mulder's voice.  "You mean...
the cancer is developing because the implant was not activated?"
    "That's what Scully is finding out right now."

9:30pm
Medical examiners' lab

    Scully adjusts the settings on the X-ray machine.  "Just lie 
still, this will only take a few seconds," she tells the fidgeting 
Langly, obediently lying on his back staring up at the machine.
    "Okay, that's it," Scully tells him after a moment.  "It will 
take a few minutes to develop these, so why don't you guys 
head back to the micro lab and talk to Doug."
    Langly hops off the table and follows Byers out the door.  

    "How do you feel?" Byers asks the dazed looking Langly as they 
walk down the hall.
    Langly laughs softly.  "Like I've been assimilated."
    Despite his usual aversion to physical contact, Langly suddenly 
found himself grasping Byers' arm for support.  The wave of 
dizziness caught him by surprise, and he had to close his eyes, 
concentrating hard on staying on his feet.  
    Byers sensed what was happening.  "Hey, easy, hang on," he 
says gently, using the arm Langly was clutching to try and hold the 
younger man up.  Byers guides him to the wall, not sure what else 
he can do.  Langly can feel his back slipping down the wall, his 
legs giving out...

    Scully glances up from the newly developed X-rays to see Byers 
striding quickly into the lab with Langly's limp body draped in his 
arms.  'Oh my god,' she thinks, her stomach twisting with 
adrenaline.  Forcing herself to remain professional, she leads 
Byers toward the metal exam table near the center of the small lab.  
He carefully lays his friend down on the table, then takes off his 
own suit jacket, folding it quickly and placing it beneath Langly's
head.  Scully can see Byers shaking; he is terrified, but is trying 
desperately to keep his fear from showing in front of her.  She 
understands; she is doing the exact same thing.  
    She performs a quick check of Langly's vital signs; his pulse 
is rapid but still strong, blood pressure unusually low, breathing 
slow and shallow, pupil response is lethargic.  Considering what 
she had seen on the X-rays, she was expecting that last one.  
    Byers stands by quietly while Scully does her work.  
Approaching footsteps behind him draw his attention toward the 
door.  Frohike sticks his head in the room and cautiously glances 
around, wondering if he is in the right place, then catches site 
of Byers and Scully standing over the unconscious Langly.  He 
takes in a sharp breath and quickly moves to stand next to Byers.  
"Is he okay?  What happened?"
    "He passed out in the hall," Byers answers quietly, glancing 
expectantly at Scully for more information.  
    Scully looks at the two men standing in front of her, trying to 
form the right words.  To her embarrassment, she can't.  She 
turns back to the counter behind her, flips on the light board 
mounted on the wall and places one of the X-rays on it.  She moves 
aside to allow the others to see the results for themselves.  The 
small white patch near the center gives them the answer.  The guys 
walk around the table to join Scully at the counter, glancing at the 
rest of the film as if hoping the first one was a mistake.  It was 
not a mistake; the tumor is there.
    The voice directly behind them jolts them from their study.  
"That means I'm dying, doesn't it?"  
    Byers jumps and spins around, for some reason feeling guilty.  
Langly had managed to soundlessly join them at the counter.
    
.................................
Continued in part 2