Chapter 8

Scott stooped to one knee in front of the wheelchair, taking hold of one of her frail hands. It was so small in his, nearly half the size; it was cold and damp, and curled limply in his own. Still, he could feel the steady pulse of her heart beating in her wrist. That slow thump meant she was still fighting, and she was still in this with him. And if she could still fight for this, despite her condition, then he could damn well march in there and figure out Jack Harkness for her. He gave her fragile hand a reassuring, gentle squeeze, though she didn't return the act. But the glint in her eyes, the one he used to see when he was little, told him that she was as in this as he was.

A smile crept over his lips as he looked up to her. "This," he whispered, something beginning to swell in his chest. "This is it. We're going to save you, like I promised." The half of her mouth that she still had a little control over quirked up, giving him that crooked smile he adored. He placed her hand back on her lap and walked behind the chair, gripping the bars so tightly he was afraid they'd break.

This was the moment he had spent his entire life preparing for. He had worked his way to the top of his field for his entire life, fighting for equipment he could use, for the knowledge that would bring him here. He had tracked down Jack Harkness for years, and now he had him in the palm of his hand, ready to be molded into a cure. Scott took a deep breath and leaned forward. The squeak of the old wheels echoed through the tunnels as he pushed her around the corner to face Jack and Ianto.

The two men stared at her exactly the way that killed Scott. Mouths open and eyes wide, they looked her up and down, staring at the chair like it was some growth coming off her back. And she, being patient as ever, let them watch her like a freak show, just like she always did. Scott had half a mind to cripple the two men just to see how they liked being stared at constantly.

"Is that him?" She piped up, her words gargled and hard to understand to anyone but Scott. He nodded his head and pushed her a little closer so she could take a look.

"Jack Harkness," he said calmly, "meet my little sister, Mae."

"Nice to meet you, Mae," he said, still studying her appearance. Scott wanted to reach forward and snap his neck, but he knew it would accomplish nothing. Jack tilted his head and looked up at him. "Am I supposed to know her, too?"

Scott smiled amusedly. "No, I suppose not. She was there when we met, but she didn't do the talking. And, granted, she's changed a lot since then. Unfortunately, it was for the worse." He placed a hand on her shoulder, his brow furrowing minutely. "You know, you and Mae are more similar than you'd think, Jack. How many people do you think are immortal? My guess is not many. You're one a million, you are." He moved to stand directly in front of Jack, putting his hands into his pockets. "Do you know, statistically, what percentage of people get ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease, through genetics?" He paused, not really waiting for an answer, though. "Ten percent. Ten percent, out of the thousands who get the disease. And even with that miniscule chance, Mae happened to inherit ALS through her mother." He leaned forward. "The two of you are very unique."

Jack glanced back over to Mae, who was sitting silently and watching it all play out. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Jack," he spat, taking his hands out of his pockets to point a finger at him, "I want you to know what you put us through. I want you to know what you did to our family." Scott crossed his arms and started to make his way slowly around the space, disappearing into the shadows and reappearing every once in a while. "I was ten when my mom was diagnosed with ALS; thirteen when she actually passed away. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that I was watching my mom die right before my eyes. What was worse was that the doctors kept giving her medication to slow the process down." He chuckled darkly. "It could have been so much quicker for her, but instead they stretched it out over three years, letting her rot away helplessly.

"And you were obviously no help. You just let it happen. I was ten, and I had to watch my mom shrivel up and die." Scott appeared from out of a dark corner, his face grave. "She choked on her own spit because she couldn't swallow properly. I had to watch while she drowned, all the while completely conscious." He shook his head and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. "I asked for help, and you let her die," his voice grew soft, then he suddenly lunged toward Jack, his heart beating in his throat. "You killed her!" Scott backed up a little ways, letting himself relax.

"So imagine my horror when I got a phone call from my father, explaining to me that Mae had a gene so rare, the doctors wanted to take notes. That she had ALS, and she was terminal. That I was going to have to watch my little sister waste away, just like my mother.

"I'm not going through that again," he muttered. "I will not let you kill Mae. So either you willingly help her get better, or I'll make you." His jaw set like stone, and he glared at the captain. Jack said nothing in response, but the look on his face said everything. "You will help her," he ordered, unease growing in his mind.

"Nothing can be—"

"Help her."

"I can't!" Jack shouted loudly, his voice reverberating against the walls. "I don't know what you want me to do!"

"Fine," Scott said, turning away. "Then I'll just have to get the answer from your DNA. I know a nice laboratory where I can dissect you." He glanced over his shoulder. "How's that sound?"

"You don't think I've had people do tests on me before? You don't think I've tried to find out what the hell my body is doing?" Scott paused, wanting the answer to be no. "I've been a lab rat before, and believe me, there's nothing. It can't be applied; it's not helpful. I'm sorry," he apologized slowly, and something in Scott snapped. He turned around and stepped forward, kicking Ianto's mangled leg out of frustration. Both shackled men shouted; Ianto out of unbearable pain, and Jack out of unbearable rage. The shouting continued, so Scott took the bars of Mae's wheelchair in his hands, wanting to get her some place quiet so she could rest.

"Nobody move," a harsh Welsh accent ordered from around the corner, making everyone freeze. The screaming ceased, but Ianto was breathing out of his mouth, whimpering quietly in pain. Jack forced out a short laugh at Scott, who in return shot him a glare over his shoulder. There was the sound of several feet moving quickly across the cement floor, then three familiar faces appeared at the end of the tunnel, guns held out in front of them. Gwen, who had shouted the warning, was at the head of the group. As Scott reached for something tucked in his belt, she pointed the weapon directly at his head. "I said don't move."

When Gwen had turned the corner to face the people she had heard, she wasn't sure what she was expecting. Part of her had assumed Jack had gotten himself into some sort of trouble, as he usually did when he ran off in a hurry. Another part of her was momentarily shocked that he had managed to get himself cuffed to the wall by only one person. Granted, that person was as big as a whale, but it was still Jack, and he could usually handle situations like this.

She almost smiled a little when she saw Jack, happy that he was at least uninjured, but she quickly stopped herself when she saw the sweating figure next to him. Ianto looked like absolute hell. His face was dirty and deathly pale, and through the faint light she could see some disfigured limb that she couldn't bring herself to stare at for too long. His eyes were closed, but the clench in his jaw and his heavy breathing made it obvious he was still conscious.

Gwen wrenched her eyes away from the two men and stared directly ahead of her, at the goliath in the front. He looked furious and heartbroken at the same time, and she almost allowed herself a moment to feel bad for him. She looked at what he was holding in front of him, and she furrowed her brow, looking at the others to see their reactions. Tosh seemed uncertain whether or not to point a gun at the girl in the wheelchair, and Owen just seemed concerned for her, lowering his gun and squinting at her through the dark.

"Jack," Gwen spoke after a few seconds, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, pulling at the cuffs around his wrists. "Just get me out of these things." Tosh nodded and slipped past the tall man and the woman, reaching down and easily picking the lock. The handcuffs clattered to the ground, and Jack shot up, heading straight for the man. Despite being several inches shorter than him, Jack managed to rip him away from the wheelchair and pin him against the nearest wall.

"Understand this," he nearly growled. "I don't give a damn what you need or want, but when you go after my friends to get to me," he leaned in close, his voice almost a whisper, "I'm not happy." He pulled back before shoving him once, hard, into the concrete wall, and the man tumbled down the floor, unconscious. "Let's get him to the Hub," he muttered darkly. Jack turned away and kneeled down beside Ianto, whose handcuffs Tosh had already removed. "Let's get you back, too," he said softly, sliding his arms underneath the man. When he moved to pick him up, though, Ianto cried out loudly, cringing away from the movement.

"Jack, we have a problem," Gwen said, stepping forward. Jack adjusted his grip on Ianto, trying to pick him up again, but he shouted out in pain once more, trying to push away from the captain weakly. "Jack…" When the captain looked like he was about to try again, Owen stepped around Gwen and grabbed his shoulder tightly.

"He can't be moved like that; we need a wheelchair or a stretcher." Owen pushed Jack aside and slid down to stoop beside the injured leg. He didn't even try to touch it, but just silently looked at the stained pants before standing up. He didn't have to be a doctor to tell how bad a shape Ianto was in.

"Alright," Jack said, "let's go get one." When he began to walk away, Owen grabbed him by the shoulder again, sighing.

"We can't just yet," he muttered, gesturing to the unconscious man on the ground, then to the girl in the wheelchair. "We need to get him to the Hub before he wakes up, and in my professional opinion, she should not be left alone." He shrugged slightly, looking at everyone in turn. "Once we do that, we can come back for Ianto." They all knew it was true, but Jack was the only who seemed entirely pissed off about it.

"I'm not leaving him here," Jack nearly growled through his teeth.

"Someone will stay here with him until we get back," Gwen piped up, shooting a glance toward Ianto. His eyes were closed, and his fingers were fisted on his thighs tightly.

"I will stay here with him," Jack insisted, already turning to the injured man.

"Jack, how the hell do you expect us to get this mammoth," he pointed to Scott, "and this girl back without you? I've got too much fucking equipment to carrying anyone, and Tosh can't lift a box of files without breaking out into a sweat." Toshiko frowned and looked to the others for reassurance, but Gwen just shrugged and looked away. "You have to help carry him."

"I'm not leaving Ianto," Jack repeated firmly, hardly even listening anymore.

"You can come back," Owen insisted, and when the captain started to shake his head, he grunted loudly. "You have to go."

Suddenly Toshiko stepped forward. "This is like one of those old riddles," she said.

The three others turned their heads and in unison got a strange look on their faces, asking "What?" Toshiko smiled nervously and nodded.

"Like when we were children and teachers gave us problem-solving riddles." When no one replied, she went on. "'You have a fox, a rabbit, and a head of lettuce, and you must get all three across a river. You can only take one across at a time, but the fox cannot be left alone with the rabbit, and the rabbit cannot be left alone with the lettuce.' We just need to figure out who stays, who goes, and who comes back." Everyone turned to look at Jack, and he hesitated a moment before sighing.

"Fine," he muttered, "but I'm coming back for him." No one argued; in fact, they were just happy they didn't have to heft the goliath back by themselves. "Who's staying with him?" Heads collectively turned to Toshiko, and she frowned slightly, thinking.

"Well," she said softly, "I think Owen would be the best choice." At the scoff from the doctor, she continued, defending her statement. "You have too much equipment to help carry anyone anyway, and while you're here you can start looking at Ianto's leg." There was no arguing with the logic, so Owen nodded, though he didn't look entirely happy. He set his gear down a little ways away from Ianto and watched as they headed out. "I'll push…" Toshiko looked down at the small girl in the chair, who looked frightened.

"Mae," Jack muttered sadly. "Her name is Mae." Toshiko grabbed the handlebars of Mae's chair and pushed, Gwen and Jack following close behind, grunting slightly with the effort of holding up the grown man. When they were gone, Owen sat down beside Ianto, his back up against the wall.

"You know," he sighed, "I was never really good at riddles." He glanced over to Ianto, who breathed out slowly through his mouth before looking up at Owen. His whole face was contorted painfully, and his body was tense.

"Really?" He managed to get out, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Could've fooled me." The strain in his voice couldn't mask the sarcasm, and he chuckled quietly.

"Shut up," Owen replied harshly, though he laughed in response. Without another word, he set to work on the leg.

The moment the heavy metal door moved out of the way, Jack was nearly sprinting in. Gwen grunted, trying to keep up while holding the upper half of Scott Walker's unconscious form. Toshiko followed them, pushing the wheelchair with Mae gently through the door frame and down a slope. She brought the chair to a stop near her computer, not sure where else to put her until Owen came back to help.

"Alright, I'm going to get a gurney and go back," Jack announced, dropping the lower half of Scott and taking off. Gwen almost collapsed with the weight of the man, holding her breath to heft him back up a little on her own.

"Don't worry about me, Jack," she breathed laboriously, starting to drag him towards the cells. "I've got him." She grunted loudly, wanting to make point. The captain wasn't even paying attention, but instead was shoving a gurney along the floor, an urgent look on his face. Gwen rolled her eyes and kept moving, dragging the body along. The longer she dragged him, the harder it seemed. It was almost like she was barely going anywhere at all with him after a few more steps. When she looked down at him, Gwen almost screamed or jumped away. Unfortunately, she didn't have the breath or time to do either.

Scott pushed himself up off the ground, using Gwen for leverage. With his hand holding her, she couldn't move away, and he was moving too quickly for her to react properly. Before she could do anything useful, he was behind her, holding her body to his. His arm was wrapped tightly around her, holding her arms down at her sides. A quiet but definitive click sounded, and the others in the room turned to look at Scott, holding a gun— Gwen's own gun— to her head.

Jack lunged forward, but Scott pressed the gun harder to her temple in warning, and he backed away reluctantly. "Let her go," he pressed.

"Not until you cure Mae," Scott said, looking slightly crazed and very tired. He had the face of a man who had nowhere left to turn, nothing left to do but take a shot in the dark. Gwen's face was blank, but her eyes gave away how worried she was. She was in the hands of a man with nothing to lose.

"I already told you I can't," Jack yelled, losing all patience with him. "Now let her go!"

"I'm not going to let you fucking kill her. Not this time! I won't let you," Scott's hand started to shake, and Gwen was afraid he'd pull the trigger by accident. Her heart started to pound furiously in her chest, and she looked to Jack for reassurance. He looked just as terrified and unsure of what to do as she did. "I will kill everyone here if you don't help her," he sobbed through his teeth. "Just help her. Please."

Toshiko stood by idly, too shocked to even move. She felt a small bump at her side suddenly, and looked down to see a shaky hand dropping back down to Mae's lap. She stooped down slowly so as not to draw attention to herself, and looked at the fragile girl. Mae was looking at her with sad eyes, her head drooped low. "What is it?" Toshiko whispered. The response was so gargled, she almost didn't understand it.

"Stop him," she repeated, more firmly this time. It was almost a plead, and Mae painstakingly lifted a hand to point to Toshiko's desk, where a gun lay hidden under some papers. She breathed out a 'please,' but it came out as only a quiet, wheezy, "Plea…" Toshiko set her mouth in a firm line and glanced at the men before nodding to Mae.

With no one facing her or particularly focused on her, Toshiko slinked over to her desk and grabbed the gun. It was already loaded and ready; she just had to shoot. She stood slowly, holding the weapon behind her back.

"Scott, killing them won't help anyone," Jack insisted, growing more uneasy as Scott's whole body trembled uneasily. "You know that. You don't have to be a murderer." Toshiko gripped the gun tightly, steadying her breath. Her heart still beat through her chest, and she was certain the others could hear it as much as she could.

"Yes I do," Scott replied, his eyes red and watery. He sucked in a harsh breath, and let out a low whine. Toshiko pulled the gun out in front of her, clicking off the safety. Still, no one turned to her. She raised the gun and pointed it at Scott. Gwen was in front of him, blocking most of his body. What if she missed and hit Gwen? What if she missed both of them and Scott shot Gwen? What if she wasn't supposed to kill him? Scott could still release Gwen, right? Then she'd be killing an innocent man. Or by not shooting, she was putting everyone in danger.

Toshiko squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath before she opened them back up.

She pulled the trigger.

Notes: I did a lot of research on ALS for this story, but if I still got something wrong, I'm sorry.

I think there's going to be one more chapter left. I actually only have about half of it written, but I know where I'm going with it, and I'll probably be able to sum it all up there.

Again, everyone, thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews. You're all amazing!