He could still see her face, just a few days ago... the anger.. the hatred. All directed towards him and him alone. She hated him now, blamed him for decisions that had been made and for choices he regretted even now. With all that had happened a part of him, somewhere deep within him, regretted what he had done to her. He had taken something from her, that could never be replaced. He had taken her peace of mind. He could put the blame on another, he would have been justified in doing so, but he had watched as her world crumbled. Watched and did nothing to prevent it. So he was responsible, in the end when he could have stopped it, he didn't. He let the power become a part of him, and he lost her. Lost the one person that believed in him.

       Reaching out to touch her hand, he wondered just what he would have given up for her, if he had been strong enough. Would he have led a different life, if he had only tried a little harder? Would his life have more meaning now, if he had taken one different path? He sighed deeply and moved away from her, into the shadows of the room. In the shadows, he felt comfort and a sense of freedom. From the obscurity of the dark, he could watch her as he had done for years. Watch the one true friend he had ever had, but had lost. Lost due to his own need for power, his own need for control.

       It had been so long since they had spoken, so long since the sight of him didn't send chills of fear and anger through her. He could see it, the emotions that she felt for him, they were so clearly etched on her face. She hated him. Hated what he had become and despised him for what he had allowed to be taken from her. He had taken the blame for the choices that Bill had made, but still she knew that Bill held as much guilt in the matter as he did. It had been Bill's choice, and his alone. Still his sin was that of silence... he didn't stop the taking of Samantha. He let it happen, even encouraged it... but why? He had asked himself that for years.. why had he encouraged an action like this. An action that had no clear reasoning behind it.. no reason but to destroy a family.

       Running his fingers through his graying hair he sighed. He knew the reasons behind his actions. He wasn't naive. He made the choices he did, to destroy their family. To shatter something that he himself could never have. He had watched them all those years, happy and content in a peace that didn't really exist. He hated Bill, hated him for what he had and resented Bill for what he knew he would never have. He would never have the love of a woman, the look of devotion in her eyes that he had see in hers as she looked at Bill. He would never feel the love of children, the joy that they would bring. Those summers with the Mulder's had been the closest he had ever come to true happiness, but even that he had corrupted. Everything he touched he tainted, once exposed to his cold black heart, it would wither and die.

       Die. He had a prophecy of his future today. A prophecy of death. He did something he never thought was within his abilities. He thought of himself before the project. He took the chance and was healed of his black death. Now the guilt of that action was a rotting core inside him. The guilt had replaced the cancer. Guilt was now a slow painful blight on his soul. He was healed but the woman that meant the world to him was dying before his very eyes. Would he have sacrificed himself for her? Giving up his chance for an extended life to know that she would live? He would like to think so, but somewhere deep within him that voice that spoke for him rang out.

* You know you wouldn't have helped save her *

**But I would have, If I had known**

*You knew what seeing you again would do to her*

**but she wanted to see me, she called me**

* she called you, cause she wanted you out of her life once and for all *

**No** He shook his head, trying to clear his head of the thoughts that reverberated through him.

       He would have saved her, he told himself. Even as the words passed through his consciousness he knew he wouldn't have. He would have made the same choice, he would have saved himself. The bitterness of that thought touched him as never before. He had sent many to their deaths without a second thought, but standing here now he felt remorse for his choice.

* But not enough remorse to change it * The tormenting voice said to him.

**Yes. I would have helped her**

* Helped her like you helped her before? You let them take her daughter. You let them experiment on her son. You destroyed her peace of mind. And you think she could ever forgive you? She hates you. * The voice taunted.

       "No." He cried. Looking at the bed he felt the rage grow within him. The anger at what he was, what he would never be. The emotions flowed through him like a tidal wave, consuming him in their wake. The cold deep hatred was back, the need for revenge for all he had given up. He reached out and grasped the vase of flowers on the table, in his rage he flung them across the room, breaking the glass vase. The contents of the vase spilled to the ground as it shattered into shards of glass. The red roses that had once protruded from the crystal, lay in a pool of water and crystal. Looking down at the destruction he caused, he saw the roses, the crystal and the water, but a different image assaulted him. The flowers, no longer took on the appearance of singular rose buds.. the reflection of the crystal made it appear that before him lay a pool of blood.

"You wanted me?" the bounty hunter asked, as he approached Cancerman.

       "Yes, I have a job for you." Cancerman said, as he extinguished one cigarette and lit another. "I want you to dispose of Mr. Smith. I care not what you do with him, just get rid of him. Then there is the matter of Agent Scully and Agent Mulder. I want then eliminated this time. Bring Agent Mulder to me first, there are some things he need to know before he dies."

The bounty hunter simply nodded and walked away.

        Cancerman watched him, till he could no longer be distinguished from the night. Walking away, he glanced back at the hospital doors, a part of him wanting to return to see her again, but this is where he belonged. The night was his home, the shadows were his friends. He stepped back into the darkness, it enveloped him in it's arms, wrapping its protection around him as he disappeared into the night.