AN: And I'm back!

Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive (and constructive) thus far! I apologize it's taken so long, but like I was telling my lovely beta MickyMonroe there were several directions I could have taken this next arc and I wanted to hit just the right tone. Speaking of Micky, the lack of spelling/grammar errors are the product of her patience and time - so a big thanks to her as well!

Thanks again to all the readers/reviewers - you really do make a girl want to keep getting better :)

Enjoy and much love,

Voi

It's been nearly a month since he's arrived at the organization Calvin had introduced merely as the Foundation. A research conglomerate with close ties to bioengineering and what remained of the augment program; it rode the very cutting edge of technology and legality. It was also sitting right under Admiral Marcus' nose.

Standing on one of the many terraces, John gazed down to the fog-shrouded glitter of San Francisco and almost found the strength to smile. What would Marcus have done if he knew that the people working so hard against him were all but breathing down his neck?

And they were working hard, exceptionally so. The sheer volume of data, of information that the Foundation was sitting on was staggering.

With Calvin's help and network of informants he had managed to locate nearly all of the remaining members of his crew, his family. Seventy-two remained, held in stasis until someone woke them. Of that number he had used the very particular capabilities of the transporter to collect seventy of them. Two more and he would have them all, protected, kept well away from Admiral Marcus and his visions of grandeur.

Turning away from the balcony to walk through the large hall that served as his family's temporary home, he walked by each tube with a quiet contentment, an ease he had not felt since waking from his own stasis. And yet, despite this victory his satisfaction was less than it should have been, diminished.

Four weeks, Twenty-eight days, six hundred and seventy hours…it seemed that time did nothing for the pain, the guilt. Still he dreamt of her, woke up reaching for warmth of a body long since gone, chilled by death.

"Mr. Singh?"

The Foundation was as secure as the Archives of Startfleet and more than forthcoming, but after so many months of hiding, the use of his true name had become as jarring as 'John Harrison' has been.

But perhaps this change was for the best, perhaps coming to accept Khan as his persona once more would free him to live anew. He could no longer be the man known as John. John was a man of compassion, of affection, the man Rhue had spent those many months with. And though Khan loved and cared for her as well, it is John who has been rendered inconsolable with her death.

It had been Khan, steadfast and experienced warrior, who had swallowed the agony and managed to push through each day.

But here, surrounded by his family, he felt much like he had with her at his side, a balance of both men, with the strengths and weaknesses of both.

"Yes?"

Turning to where the speaker was standing, framed in the doorway, Khan identified Calvin by the state of his dress, his usual lab coat and slacks.

"I'm glad I found you," The smile on the other man's face was patient, understanding. They were not the oldest of friends, but a mutual respect had flourished almost immediately. In many ways Calvin was truly his ancestor's heir, stubborn and fierce, but he was also a tempered force, deliberate and mindful of his actions. Marla's trust in this man had been explained to the fullest and Khan could find no fault with her choice.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something I think might interest you." Calvin gestured to the pods, "Unless you would prefer to spend today in another fashion?"

The offer was a generous one but one that Khan had made ample use of in the days and months that had passed. And today of all days, with his heart sore and his emotions awry, Khan appreciate the chance at distraction.

"By all means, lead on."

Khan found himself in the suite of research labs a moment later, passing by the countless nameless scientists that provided the cover for the more covert research that occurred at the Foundation.

He had been careful to learn the names of each and every one, to examine them in turn, to question everything and take nothing for granted.

Never again would he allowed himself to be fooled into believing he was safe. Marla had not been malicious in her secret keeping, but he had not known her nearly as well as he had imagined, and perhaps that was the source of his great bitterness. If only he had known her better, known her truly, perhaps he could have changed her fate.

"Here we are."

They stopped at the end of a long hallway, and Calvin was quick to press his palm on the scanner and follow the prompted security protocols. And when at last the heavy doors slid open Khan found himself faced with all manner of scientific machine, hidden in a room without windows.

But the focus was clear, and Khan eyed the large red vials lined the wall with interest as he followed Calvin inside.

"Blood?"

Wondering aloud, Khan crossed the room to read the reports that cluttered the workstation, his eyes rapidly scanning the documents as he easily gleaned the knowledge that lay there.

"So this is how you have been making so much progress."

There was approval in his voice, and he turned to Calvin to find the man approaching him with what must be the conclusions of their research thus far.

"Augmented blood is one of the most powerful cure-alls mankind has ever produced." Handing over the data, Calvin gestured to the far wall where pictures of various people were framed.

"These people are waiting for us to find them a solution, and all of them are running out of time."

"But you said the blood was a cure-all?"

A flash of pain was covered by a rueful smile, "Broken bones, terrible illness…my blood has the ability to speed recovery and sometimes even cure illness." The flash of pain crossed his face a second time, as he amended himself, "Not all the time, mind you, but most. 'Cure all' is perhaps a misnomer."

"But the research suggests that it should be able to take care of most known issues, what are the limitations?"

"It's the host's white blood cells." Calvin rummaged through the reports before pulling the appropriate file, "Here we go. Take a look at this."

Khan watched in silence as the recording played, watched as blood was introduced into a sample and observed as the host's immune system began to fight what might otherwise have been lifesaving cells.

"It's the volume," Calvin sighed in defeat, "Too much augmented blood and the host's natural defenses begin to attack it."

Khan paused to consider it, "Have you tried augmenting the cells?"

"We've been working on it since we made the discovery, but my cells fight off any additional components. The Eugenics program had volumes on how to do this but they've long since been lost, or at least hidden."

"So you've been forced to use trial and error."

"Until now."

Khan looked up to find Calvin watching him warily, waiting for him to make the final mental jump. And he did, for not a moment later the solution presented itself, so elegantly simple that any other solution seemed barbaric in comparison.

"Oh…I see." The smile on his lips was one of genuine appreciation, "My blood. That is the solution to your problem."

"We should be able to synthesize a solution from your blood."

"But you could use my blood as well; not just as a means to a solution but as the solution itself, to give to patients."

Calvin hesitated, "Only if you allowed it. We would not force you."

And that was what made the difference, between Marcus and Calvin, between the wrong and right side of his situation.

Khan rolled up his sleeve as he made his choice.

"I give it to you freely."

And for the first time in what had been a very long while, Khan felt connected to the world around him, returned to reality as if suddenly awakening from a deep sleep. Marla might never know about this one small act, but this was her legacy.

It was this quiet mindfulness that guided him outdoors several hours later, through the courtyard to the small library.

John had spent many hours there in the past month, had found the mix of old books and old architecture comforting. He had only to walk inside, to see the dappled light cutting through the gloom to feel at peace.

He could almost hear her laughter echoing in the vaulted spaced, could imagine her brilliant russet hair bobbing as she danced by the countless books and art, each aisle as familiar to her as her own home.

Would he never forget her? His perfect memory has always been a double edged sword, and he resented it now as much as he savored recalling each heartfelt moment.

"Khan?" Her voice flowed over him like a soft breeze, a gentle caress, and for a moment he could almost believe she was there, standing before him.

It was only when the voice repeated itself, this time a little louder, a little more forceful; that he realized that there was someone calling to him.

Turning, he jerked to a sudden stop as a familiar face stared back at him framed by hair so vibrant and rich that it could only be one person.

But she did not freeze as he did, and before he could open his mouth she was darting away, hair swinging behind her as she vanished around the corner.

He moved without thinking, feet carrying him to the end of the aisle as he followed her, feeling suddenly unbalanced as he caught a flash of scarlet disappearing up one of the flights of stairs.

He followed the stairs up, winding ever higher and never once did he consider what he was doing. Instinct rode him hard and the pounding of his heart in his ears made the rest of the world seem quiet in comparison.

It was impossible to tell how long he shadowed her steps or how many flights of stairs slipped away unnoticed as he scaled them on his way to her. But when she finally came to a stop it was with no small surprise that he found himself in a hall he had never ventured before, the third floor of the library in an obscure wing that overlooked the courtyard.

"Marla?"

He saw her lips curve in a smile as she finally swung around to look at him, feminine hands propping themselves on her hips as she gave him a considering look.

"Not quite."

And in that moment the illusion shattered and he knew she was telling the truth. Though this woman in front of him was the same height and build, and certainly her hair was strikingly similar there were many more differences. Standing so very close, he could see them now. But it was not the stark reality of this truth that had his throat tightening, rather it was how pathetically simple it had been to trick him. Because now, as he stood not ten feet from her he could pick out the hundred little differences that set this woman apart from the one long gone.

She might have been able to fool anyone else, but he should have known the difference immediately.

"Who are you?"

The smile on her face turned into a grin, and there was a smug sort of self-assurance that seemed to suffuse her answer.

"My name is Molly," she cocked her head to the side and gave him a playful wink, "Molly McGivers. Calvin says you've spent quite a bit of time with my sister."

"Marla was your older sister."

"By nine minutes," Molly sighed, "We are twins…we do look similar right? Though by the look on your face I'd say Marla did a good job of keeping me a secret, you look positively stunned."

Khan felt his stomach clench, was this truly another one of Marla's many secrets come to light?

"Then again…if she cared for you at all I'm not surprised." The amusement in her voice sharpened to something dangerous, "She knows me too well."

The implication was blatant, and Khan felt his temper sharpen immediately though something else about her words tugged as his attention.

"You think you are a danger to me?" His hands slipped very slowly into the pocket of his coat as he struggled to reign in his sudden temper.

The idea was almost laughable…and insulting that Marla seemed to think so little of him.

Molly didn't seem to appreciate the joke, but her smile remained in place nonetheless, "It doesn't matter what I think, she certainly made sure I never met you. I can only guess why."

She didn't elaborate but there was no disguising the temper behind her tone, "You really are exactly how I imagined, you know. Marla might have to answer more than a few questions now."

And then, because it seemed she was done with him, she waved him off, brushing past him as she bid him farewell, close enough so he could smell the faded fragrance of her soap. It was the brand her sister had preferred.

Khan stood there for a long time afterwards, starting at the door at the end of the hall, mulling over the details of his encounter, trying to tease out why he remained uneasy, dissatisfied with what had transpired.

Molly who both was and was not his beloved Marla.

At first glance they might have appeared mirrored images of one another, but to him there would only ever be one original. And no matter how much his heart might have liked to ease its ache, the truth remained.

But so too did the unsettling feeling linger, and he stood there for minutes more as he tried to glean every last detail from their momentary meeting. To find the mental key that would free his mind from the disquieting stiltedness that consumed his attention.

A stray beam of deep orange light pierced his eye as the sun sunk those last few inches below the horizon. Sharp and bright, the pain of it lanced the delicate wiring of his eye and snapped his head back.

And that was when it happened.

The illusive bit of information that had been bothering him solidified in a second, crystalizing as his mind finally made sense if it. And with the realization came the staggering possibility, the terrible danger of such great hopefulness that his heart seemed poised to burst from his chest.

The epiphany. The clue in the conversation. The very reason his whole mind couldn't seem to stop turning Molly McGivers' words over and over in his brain.

She had been talking about Marla in the present tense.