From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 4 Apr 2001 17:38:54 -0000 Subject: Insane (Dead/Alive from Doggett\'s POV) by Spookette Source: direct Reply To: Spookette@usa.net "Insane" by Spookette Category: MSR, D-Angst Rating: R (language) Summary: The events of DeadAlive from Doggett's POV Disclaimer: No characters are mine, they all belong to CC Archive: Anywhere, just drop me a line Feedback: Spookette@usa.net Insane. That's the only way to describe any of this. I am actually standing here, watching as Mulder's coffin is being raised. As if this man did not cause Scully enough pain when alive, or when he died. Now here I am participating in something that will start to reopen all the wounds. I know this is pointless, my logical mind tells me so. The part of me that Scully has brought to life, though, it tells me it could actually be true. He could actually still somehow, after dying, being prepared for burial and laying in the ground for 3 months, be 'alive'. And I HATE that. I don't hate that part of me can believe something so ridiculous; it's just him. On the way to the hospital I made Skinner promise me about 10 more times that he would not tell her about this. He swore each time that he wouldn't, and I believe him. I also believe that somehow she already knows (she has this way of knowing anything involving Mulder) and that she's already on the way here herself. When I removed the spectators from the area my stomach turned. Each small event that has brought us closer to this moment has been like a blow to my gut. It has happened, though. The bastard has fucking vitals. And as if on cue, to show me that she likes to prove me right as much as prove me wrong, I hear her. I hang up my cell phone, walk out of his room and the look on her face alone is enough to break my heart. For the final blow she looks to me to ask if it's true. I want to say no, I want to with every part of me, but I can't lie, not about this, not to her. I can't exactly bring myself to tell her the truth either, but I didn't need to. She reads my face; she knows it's true. "I need to see him," she says in reply. I need her not to. I need to wake up and have this whole thing be a bad dream. I want to smack Skinner as hard as I can with a baseball bat. Why can't he just make her leave? I know I can't stop her, know she's going in there no matter how much I beg or plead, but if I thought it would do any good I would pull my gun on her, pin her against a wall and refuse to let her take another step. "I wish you wouldn't", I say as if it will make a difference. She looks at me before walking past; I can see how much she actually does need this. I see her through the small window. She walks to him, not even aware of the medical staff in the room. She lays her head on the withering body of this man and starts to cry. As much as I would like to think I am made of steel, incapable of being hurt by anything less than loss of major organs, this site destroys me. I shoot Skinner one last "fuck you" glance and head to my car. After a good session punching my heavy bag I am normally too exhausted to worry about anything. Not this time though. This time I find myself worrying about even more things than when I started. In the name of protecting her, I would have left Mulder in his grave, even though there was a possibility (as insane as that is) that he was still alive. Then once we did discover the impossible was true, I didn't want her to see him. Protecting her? Could I be more selfish? Myself. That's who I was protecting. I love her; I might as well admit that. Hell, she admitted as much to me. No, not that she loves me, that she 'loved' him. She had never told him so, well, not in words anyway. Her eyes say much more than she would ever allow her lips to utter. If he couldn't see it, then fuck him, he didn't deserve to know. And the really insane thing? The night she told me how she had loved him...that's the night I fell in love with her. She kept her unbreakable, unstoppable act up for a good week after his funeral. We worked ungodly long hours, her trying not to think; me scared that when she finally stopped long enough to do so that she would be alone. Then being the wonderfully observant, sensitive man I always have been, I demolished every bit of control she had. "Agent Doggett, how can you possibly not believe what I am telling you. After all you have seen in the short time you have been working on the X-files. You've seen more in two months than I saw in two years, all the proof you need is staring you in the face." She didn't seem angry with me, frustrated maybe, definitely annoyed, but not angry. "The things I've seen prove nothing, Agent Scully. They only pose more questions. Believing that alien beings are the cause is the easy way out. That's not nearly as terrifying as the thought that these things are being done by men. Aliens doing this means that the culprits are nothing like you or I, that there is no way that somewhere in our genetic makeup we would be capable of doing such things. I can't let myself believe it, Agent. I want to believe, I just can't." I might as well have struck her; the reaction couldn't have been any more horrifying. The intensity and fire on her face melted right there before me, and was replaced by sheer pain. Her lips moved as if she were trying to form words to lash back at me, but she couldn't, instead she fell floor and started sobbing. I had no clue what had happened, thought for a split second that maybe it was the baby, something gone wrong from the stress. I went to her, told her I was going to call for an ambulance and asked what I could do until they arrived. "Please just leave, I'll be fine." Yeah, that's exactly how I'd describe her at that moment, "fine". I pull her to me, trying to comfort her. She fought me on this all the way but over the long run just started letting the tears fall onto my sleeve. That's when I realized that I had set this off. I glanced up at the wall behind her (his) desk and saw my words staring back at me. I now not only think that poster is tacky; I flat out hate it. "You can't stay here, you need to go home." I tell her, trying to help her to her feet and still offer as much comfort as I can. "I don't think I can drive right now, you go on, I'll be fine" she replies, still sobbing. I would love to one day decipher Dana Scully's definition of this word "fine" and it's appropriate uses. "I'll drive you. Let's go." As if anything would be so easy with this woman. It took me a good fifteen minutes to convince her that no matter how fine she was going to be; she could accept a ride home. I guess sometimes being stuck in a basement can actually be a blessing in disguise. We made no contact with anyone else on the way to my car, which I'm sure she was grateful for. She cried the whole trip and it must have exhausted her because she didn't even fight when I walked her in. She actually thanked me at her door, which was obviously my cue to turn and go back to my car. But when she slipped the key in the lock and opened the door, I realized she didn't direct me to her apartment; this was his. I have been here before. I can't believe I didn't recognize it until now. Yeah, John, this was much better than letting her stay in the office. I open my mouth and start to protest but she anticipated this and cuts me off. "Agent Scully..." "I need this Agent Doggett, I need to be here right now." Contrary to what my x-wife would tell you I'm not a complete asshole. I wasn't going to just leave her, still in utter pain, alone. After all she is pregnant, just lost, found, then lost her partner of many years and I was the one that so thoughtfully reminded her of this. "Fine," I say as I pass her and let myself into the apartment. Still like that word, Agent Scully? As good as I have been my whole life at making women cry, I have this one other talent that greatly surpasses it. If Scully were a cartoon character, she would now have steam shooting from both ears and water boiling in her eyes. "Get. Out. Now." I could actually feel her words hit the back of my head. I almost smiled. I can deal with an angry woman much better than a depressed woman. "Want something to drink? A light snack maybe?" I say as I walk into the small kitchen. "Agent Doggett, I may not have made myself clear. Get the hell out!" Yep, that other talent...pissing people off. "Agent Scully, there is no way I am going to leave you alone right now. Especially not here." I'm great at standoffs. I'll stay here till she goes into labor if I have to. "Look, I haven't been sleeping much, and maybe that is finally affecting me, but I need to take care of some things here and I don't need your help. I'm F..." "If you say you're fine I swear to God I WILL burn this place to the ground." HA. Didn't let you get it out that time, now what are you gonna do? That question didn't remain unanswered for long. She actually pulled her gun out and pointed it at me. "OUT! NOW!" Never underestimate a woman with a gun. Especially one you have pissed off recently. Secure in the fact that she wouldn't actually shoot her own partner; I grabbed the gun to pull it out of her hand. Ever have your hand on the barrel of a gun when it's fired? It BURNS. The bullet hit the light kit on the top of Mulder's fish tank. I did manage to get the gun after that, but only because she was more worried that a fish might have been hurt than she was about finishing me off. She was at the tank picking up pieces of light bulb and plastic. I tucked her gun away and grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the printer on the near by desk. I started to help her pick up the pieces while trying to get a glimpse of her face. She grabbed the container of fish feed and threw a pinch into the tank. "Sit down, Agent Scully, I'll take care of this." She didn't even move, but I notice she's inhaling in sharp, quick breaths. Crying, again, but she's regained some of the ability to fight it now. I put my hand on her shoulder. "Just sit down and let me deal with it, please." "I loved him so much" She said so low I barely heard. Granted it's just a fish but we all get attached, even those of us who don't like to admit how much. "Hey, come on. He's okay," I say putting my finger to the glass of the tank. She looks at me; eyes wide open, mouth parted. When her gaze drops back down blankly to her feet I realize she didn't mean the fish, and the words weren't meant to be aloud. How stupid could I be? I've been assuming this was all so hard on her because she felt somehow responsible. Guilt for not being with him when he disappeared, not finding him soon enough, not being able to save him when she did find him. And I still know all that is true; I've seen the guilt in her eyes, in her reactions. But on top of it all she's suffering from a broken heart. The tears came strong and forceful once again. She stood in front of me, hands over her face, and slowly lowered herself to the floor. As I stood there watching her heart break, my own opened and took a piece of her pain in. This was the moment I fell in love with my partner. I led her to the sofa (she didn't go completely willingly) and held her head to me as she cried. I couldn't say anything anymore; thankfully she wasn't in the mood to argue. I just sat there letting her cry and shedding tears of my own for her. We both sat there crying; she violently at times, me always silently, for at least ninety minutes. Eventually her breathing steadied as she cried herself to sleep. Once I was sure she was sound asleep, I slid out, grabbed her keys to the apartment and headed to the 24 hour Wal-Mart to buy a new fixture for the tank. Hopefully that would be one less thing for her to feel guilt over. I spent a lot of time over the next few months on that same sofa listening to the same tears. She never actually requested I come, but when the pain was too much she would hand me her keys and I would just drive. I guess it helped a little to have shared her secret, even if it had not been on purpose. Or maybe when I held her on his sofa she could almost convince herself it was him comforting her. It hurt me to watch her pain, especially feeling how I did and knowing I could never take the pain away. She will never feel for me what I do for her. I know that. I accept that. Even if she does one day allow herself to love again, it won't be another partner. And it will never be as strong as her love for him. You can't compete with a dead man. And now a dead man with vital signs. All these things, past and present, have played over in my head while I tried to beat all thoughts out of my head, while I drove to the office and still while I had my little meeting with Kersh. I must admit, most of his words were just noises, but I did get the whole "you've been a good little boy and can come out and play now' gist of it. Sure, cause now when he doesn't make it and she goes on maternity leave she can also hate herself for allowing the x-files to be left to rot. More pain for Dana Scully. Sorry, Kersh, but I already made up my mind to not allow her any pain I can possibly stop. But then I guess trying to convince Skinner to not open that casket wasn't exactly saving her from pain. Neither was standing in that room, watching them hook up wires to Mulder and willing them to show nothing but a dead man. Maybe my x-wife is right, I am a total asshole. I know this is my last chance to give her comfort. After all when the man you were in love with comes back from the dead one last time to finish dying and take your heart back down with him, how can anyone help ease the pain? How do I know that's how this is going to turn out? Two reasons: Number one: this is insane; Number two: Mulder miraculously resurrecting is would most likely make Scully happier than she's even been, but it's just FUCKING INSANE. The nurse I spoke to told me that Scully had been in there for hours. There she is sitting at his side, she actually has hope in her eyes. Doesn't she realize she's just making it worse? I have to take a few deep breaths before I open the door, "You can't do this to yourself". I say it as forcefully as I can manage. "You asked me not to come in here, Agent Doggett. I hope you're not asking me to leave." I wouldn't dare. She wouldn't leave even if I did. I try to explain that I'm just concerned for her, how wrong I think it was to even let her know about all this. "You mean finding Mulder alive?" No I fucking mean you watching him die; again. I just want to blurt out that he's going to hang out here with her for a little while until they stick him back in the damn dirt. Instead I try to ease her into seeing this for herself. "I know you came in here with the doctors. I'm sure you must've asked them what his chances are." Come on Scully think about it. Think how you will feel if you put all your hope and dreams into it turning out any other way than what even his doctors know it will be. "Agent Doggett. However I felt about you when we first me, you changed my opinion; with the quality of your character and of your work. I'm thankful to know you and for your concern. But no matter what Mulder's chances are, the choice not to open the grave was wrong. Not because of me personally, but as my partner on the X-Files. The truth may hurt, but however painful, it's all that matters." What truth are we referencing here? The one where we buried this man alive or the one where this is pointless cause he's not going to improve? Which is hurting you the most? I don't have the answer myself; I need it from her. "What truth?" "About what caused this." Oh the truth that hurts me, the one where I'm wrong and this somehow proves the little green men did it. And since I can't believe that truth, I'm just not needed. Not by her or by her X-files. I just can't get into that fucking argument with her again, I'm too damn tired. "Ya know it's interesting how many people want me off the X-files. I do such good work." Before she can stick any more knives into me or I can sling any more sarcasm a nurse enters in a panic. We both follow her and fuck me; the Miles guy is walking down the hall, no longer bloated, looking just as healthy as her or me, well me anyway. Just in case I haven't said how I feel about all of this shit, let me clarify...this is insane. I was completely caught of guard when she was in the office that morning. I was sure she'd be glued to that damn hospital until this whole thing was over. I'm very grateful this isn't the case. When I asked how she was feeling she replied with the F word. But of course she's fine, right? I mean who wouldn't be. God I hate that word. We continue the courteous small talk, but it's not long before she jumps to the point. Skinner has already told her about my meeting with Kersh. That I've served my time in the basement prison and have now been let off for good behavior. She's rambling now about how great a turn this is for my career, giving me the easy out. I close that door as quickly as she opens it. "In six weeks you go on maternity leave. Kersh transfers me out, and guess what: he gets to lock the door over there for good." I doubt that thought has even hit her yet. "You mean close the X-Files?" I don't answer this. No need. That's exactly what Kersh has planned. This we both know. I am not going anywhere, I'll stay here with her, then when she is put on leave I will stay here for her. I owe her at least that. "Agent Doggett, you don`t owe me anything. You certainly don`t owe any more of your life to this assignment. They stuck you down here. Against your wishes. This may be the last plane out." Stop reading my thoughts dammit. I use the open case and unanswered questions as an excuse, playing to her logical mind. She laughs at me, tells me how she felt the same when she started in this office. That now was my chance to get out and I should take it. I'm not going to stand here and argue with her, but I'm not leaving the X-files either. I have to know what's going on here. These things just don't happen. Stubbornness and beliefs (or lack there of) aside, I find myself going to the only person I can think of. Absalom. This crazy bastard is quoting the bible as if I would suddenly fall to my knees and worship him. He doesn't seem at all surprised by what I tell him of Mulder or even Billy Miles. He contributes this to an alien virus which one of his now missing followers had the ability to cure. Then starts to tell me that those who they didn't get to in time to cure turned into aliens. He tells me that is what has happened to Miles, he's turned into an alien. I listen to his ramblings and do my best to not voice my reactions to what he is saying. I just have to collect any evidence at all possible in this one. Doesn't matter what I believe, I'll let Scully decide what to act on and what is bullshit. I rush to the hospital to tell Scully. See, I do believe, maybe not in aliens from other planets wreaking havoc on our planet, but in her. I'm almost shocked to find Mulder's room void of her when I arrive. She wasn't far though; she was in a lab, studying transparencies of a brain. I assume Mulder's. I start to tell her what Absalom said about the virus, but she apparently already knows. She's tells me how she's planning to prepare Mulder for some vaccine that Skinner is getting for her. "You want to help me, Agent Doggett, find him. Get him back here as fast as possible." That was all I needed to hear. I'll find him; I need to make sure he doesn't fuck this up anyway. I was trying to rush, I almost didn't even notice Skinner go into Mulder's room. And lock the door? No response when I demand to be let in, so I start flinging myself against the door. When I finally hit the door hard enough to open it I can't believe my eyes. He's ripping out all the tubes and wires that are keeping Mulder stable. Thousands of questions about Skinner suddenly pop into my head. He was the last one to see Mulder when he disappeared. He drug Scully to hell and back looking for Mulder knowing damn well I had a full team on the case. He was the one that wanted to open the casket. He obviously called Scully to tell her what we had done and that I had begged him not to do it. He told her of my meeting with Kersh , and that I was relieved of my duty as her partner. He claims a sudden cure for this thing, and as soon as she's gone he's not producing said cure, he's destroying everything that has been done. I'm going to fucking kill him here and now. I pull him away screaming, he still claims there is a cure, but that someone named Krycek has it and it's not cheap and he doesn't trust Krycek to positively come through with the vaccine in the end. Well, excuse me, but if there is any chance he does come through, who gives a shit about what he wants in return? Then suddenly I do. "He wants me to kill Scully's baby." My brain whirls, it's looking for something, I'm just not sure of what. Then it hits me. The guy in the hall. Something had registered telling me he wasn't here spreading wishing of well being to patients. Had to be Krycek. I run out of the room as fast as I can and make my way to the garage. He didn't drop a bomb like that and just leave. He will be waiting for Skinner to process all scenarios, then give him one last chance to take his offer. I don't care who sees or what happens. Going through the garage, gun drawn, determined to find this son of a bitch, but he spots me first and starts the car. Before he can get out the garage he's picked up an unwanted passenger who is now pounding him in the face. Unfortunately I'm not exactly in a position to put any force behind my blows though and he eventually dislodges me from his car window. He pulls in view one more time just long enough to hold up my holy grail in front of me then let it fall to the ground, destroying it. Guns are way overrated; I'm going to tear this bastard into tiny pieces with my bare hands. I run to the car, not as injured as he apparently had thought, but he gets in and takes off before I can complete my task. I go back upstairs much slower than I had left. I can't hide this one from her, can't try to protect her from this. I have to tell her that I just watched her brightest hope shatter on the cement. She has never asked for my help, not until tonight. And I have to tell her that I was just a few feet from the one thing she wants badly enough to ask for, could see it, yet I don't have it. When I reach Mulder's floor I can taste the bile. I still want to kill Skinner, but he can wait. He was partially right anyway, killing that baby and trusting that what this bastard had was truly a cure is even more insane than the rest of all this crap, I'd believe the alien stories before I believe that fucker could be trusted. They already have Mulder in the operating room. I glimpse in and see her there. How strong does she think she has to be? Pregnant, no sleep for God knows how long, witness more impossible things in the last 48 hours than most see in a life time, and still she's in there, she wants to be the one to save his life. Skinner may have saved his life by pulling out all the machines. That's what she told me. She pumped Mulder with anything and everything that can destroy every type of virus she knows of. She is completely ready to just drop. The team that had been working on Mulder with her convinced her somehow to at least walk around, and not in his room. I've been waiting, hoping that she would come out of his room for whatever reason, but I wasn't going in there. I've done all I can to help her save him, but I still don't like to see her there wishing him to life. Now here she stands even more full of hope than when she told me about the vaccine. She even believes he's showing signs of improvement already. I hope it's true. She deserves it more than anyone has ever deserved anything. I hold out my arms and she walks into my embrace, wrapping her own arms around my waist. This is something that was missing in all those months of comforting. It was always me holding her while she held herself. My eyelids fall shut as I try to etch this moment in my mind. Her head pulls away from my chest and she looks up at me showing me something in her eyes I've never seen there before. Happiness maybe? I'll have to see it a few more times to know for sure, but whatever it is, I like it. "Thank you," she says with a gentle smile, "for all you have done for us." My phone squeals and she leaves me with a squeeze of the hand and one last smile. I've never seen her smile, now twice in one night. She needs to smile more often, we all do. My next meeting with Kersh closed any doors he may have opened before. Apparently punishment for doing good work while assigned to the X-files is staying assigned to the X-files. If he had been hoping I would fail in finding Mulder, then I'll be looking forward to disappointing him in the future. He makes a smug comment about the basement office being crowded. I think that was supposed to upset me. I don't give a shit how crowded it gets. That office has revealed parts of me I never knew existed. It's like a constant test; nothing comes easy. I guess he doesn't know how much I don't like things coming easy. So much for my last chance out, huh partner? Scully has spent every moment waiting by Mulder's side. I check on her at least once a day now, giving her at least some contact with someone other than doctors and patients. Tonight I actually have a reason to visit. This is beginning to become a pattern. Me going to Scully in a hospital with the news that I'm being punished and sent to the basement. I stop outside the room and prepare myself. It's my new ritual. I no longer comfort her, now it's more of an assurance that whatever happens, I'm here. He looks better even to me, everyone is now as hopeful as Scully has been from the beginning. It still kills me so see her sitting there, willing him to wake, but after a few deep breaths I'm ready. I turn to enter and see her head on his chest, her face wet from tears. My heart stops, I don't think I can breathe. That's when I see it. His hand is on her head, smoothing her hair. She sees me in the door, her face shows a total overload of emotions. Mostly it shows that I'm not wanted there. This doesn't hurt me. I wouldn't want to intrude on this moment anyway, it's their moment. I back out the door and lean against the wall outside. I let out an involuntary chuckle. One word comes to mind...insane. I'll go tell Skinner my news instead, but not hers. She'll let him know when she's ready, but now she needs him to herself. I turn to the wall which separates me from this long awaited reunion. "Congratulations you lucky son of a bitch, I hope you're worth all this," I say to him although he can't hear me. "Make her happy, make her smile. She deserves it." I hope he can. I want to believe he can.