TITLE: Releasing AUTHOR: coolbyrne RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: Post-ep fic. DSR implied. SPOILERS: “Release” DISTRIBUTION: If ya want it. DISCLAIMER: Doggett spoke to me. It’s not my fault. *grin* FEEDBACK: Comments/compliments greatly appreciated. Flames gleefully mocked in other forums. AUTHOR’S NOTE: This was a quick write, so no beta reader was used. My apologies. And normally I don’t do post-ep fics, but I’m a DSRist at heart, so, ya know, I gotta approach the ep with that in mind and see how I can “fix” it. *grin* * She had been contemplating the irony of the stormy weather and her life when a knock on the door interrupted her moment of introspective and her gaze out her window. Stretching off the couch, much to the chagrin of protesting joints, she made her way towards the door, and on tiptoes, glanced through the peephole. Her head jerked back at the sight of the last person she expected to see. Unclasping the chain and releasing the deadbolt, she opened the door. “Agent Doggett,” she greeted, not disguising the surprise in her voice. “Agent Scully,” he returned. Surveying the scene behind her, he asked, “Can I come in?” She nodded her reply and stepped aside. Once she closed the door and went through the well-practiced ritual of returning the locks into place, she turned to look at her guest. Catching her look, he raised a finger to his forehead and scratched just above his eyebrow. “I know it’s late, an’ I’m sorry to show up unannounced,” he began, recalling his ex’s admonishment for doing the same to her, not two days earlier. “I just.. I just wanted to see how you were doin’, that’s all.” Scully pulled her robe in closer and hugged herself. He was right. It was late. In fact, she had lost track of time, curled up on the couch and staring off into nowhere. She rocked back slightly on her heels and looked up at him with a small smile. “I should have been expecting you.” At his questioning gaze, she continued, “It’s just like you, Agent Doggett, to be going through one of the most emotional events of your life and still think of someone else first.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before saying, “I just didn’t want you to think I had forgotten. About you..,” he faltered. “About you an’ William,” he finished. Of course, she thought to herself. The loss of his son. The loss of her son. While circumstances and events were different, in the end, they both lost someone they loved. She hadn’t spoken with Doggett about William, the adoption, or the aftermath of it, but she knew he kept a protective eye on her. It was no surprise he would keep her in his thoughts even as he himself was going through hell. “I’m fine,” she told him, the phrase so practiced over the years that it rolled off her tongue with ease. “And how are you doing?” she asked. He only nodded and pressed his lips together. She slid her hand from the folds of her robe and reached out for him, coaxing his hand out of his pocket. When her warm skin met his, he whispered, “I’m fine, too.” She waited until his eyes finally met hers, his blue pools spilling with anguish and grief. Embarrassed by his own admission of weakness, he made a motion to turn away, but she gripped his hand tighter. With a tremble in her voice, she said, “No,” and pulled him to her. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and held fast. She reached around his shoulders as best she could and clung on. Stroking his hair softly, she whispered, “Shhhhhh, shhhh. It’s ok. It’s ok.” His hands belied their strength and rubbed her back gently through her terry cloth robe. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you an’ William.” She pulled back and held his face in her hands. “I didn’t expect you to.” When he wouldn’t meet her gaze, she said, “Look at me.” He couldn’t refuse her. “I didn’t expect you to,” she repeated firmly. “I know,” he answered, “but I expected me to.” “Come and sit down, ok?” He nodded and followed her into the living room. He waited for her to sit down before taking the empty place beside her. Stretching out his lean frame, he rested his head on the back of the couch and pressed his palms against his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doin’ anymore.” Rather than respond (for really, she didn’t know what to say), she let the silence grow between them. When it seemed both were content to stretch it out for eternity, she finally spoke. “It’s so quiet. I’m not used to that yet,” she admitted softly. He turned his head sideways and saw her, elbows on knees, her fingers absently intertwining with each other. But he said nothing in return, giving her the chance to think. “I… I sometimes check his room to see if he’s there,” she went on. “I used to do that after… after Luke was gone. My wife refused to put anythin’ away, to change anythin’ for the longest time. Just in case he came back.” Scully sat back and tucked her legs up under her. Facing Doggett, she rested her arm on the back of the couch and remarked, “Barbara, your wife, she seemed like a very nice person.” “She is,” he agreed. “She’s great.” He smiled at some private memory, then became somber again. “She went through so much because of this. An’ me.. I wasn’t there.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “You were dealing with it in your own way.” “But I shoulda been there for her,” he bit out. “And who looks after you?” Scully asked. He gave a light snort and shrugged, “That don’t matter.” “Barbara was right,” she said. Doggett looked at her again. “What do you mean?” “At the police station, she told me something about you that I never realized until that moment, but it is so true. She said in your mind, you could never do enough or suffer enough over this. And she’s right.” Doggett made a face and looked away. “But it has to stop. John?” Scully pressed on his shoulder to make him look back. When she had his attention again, she continued, “You did everything you could. And you can’t help everyone. But that’s not your fault.” “I’m not sure I want you talkin’ to my ex-wife again,” he retorted, but softened the edge with a small smile. She mirrored the smile and rubbed his shoulder. “So how did it go? In New York?” He closed his eyes and savored her gentle touch. “It went ok.” She stopped her caress and he opened his eyes. “No, really,” he said. “It was tough, but I feel like this weight on my chest has gone away. Barbara an’ me got to say our good-byes to Luke.. an’ to each other. An’ it felt ok.” “How about Monica?” Scully asked. “She’s been such a trooper in all this,” he admitted. “I know it’s been hard for her, too. I mean, she musta been re-livin’ this just as much as I was. She’s been a real source of strength for me. I can’t repay her enough.” “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” “What do you mean?” he asked. Eyes narrowing, he went on, “What else did Barbara tell you?” When Scully remained silent, he ventured, “Let me take a guess. She saw me an’ Monica together an’ commented on how good we looked together or somethin’.” Scully raised her eyebrows and gave a small tilt of her head in a gesture of concession. “Or something,” she echoed. Doggett groaned and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t believe it.” Then he corrected himself. “No, I do believe it.” He lowered his hands and rested them on his thighs. “It’s not like that, you know? I mean, between me an’ Monica.” She looked down at his hands and said, “You don’t have to explain anything.” A hand found its way from his thigh to her knee. “But I want to.” Again, her response was an affirmative gesture rather than words. “Monica’s been there since the very beginnin’,” he began. “I can barely remember a moment in this case when she wasn’t there for me and for Barbara. Hell, I think Barb told her about the divorce before she even told me.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, a mimic of Scully’s earlier motion. He looked down at his hands. “But for good or bad, how can I ever look at Monica and not be reminded of Luke? And how fair would that be to her?” He looked at Scully, his eyes seeming to plead to her for an answer. She could only press her lips together before saying softly, “She’s in love with you, you know.” He rested his forehead on the bridge of his fingertips. Letting out a long breath, he replied, “I know. I know. And I gotta set that right. I love her, but I’m not in love with her.” He let his hands hang loosely between his knees and turned his head to her. With more firmness in his voice, he repeated, “I’m not in love with *her*.” Silence stretched between them like a taut string thrumming with tension. Scully half expected to hear the crackle snap in the space between their locked gaze. As if on cue, a flash of lightning lit up the room. She had to give a laugh, and the tension dissolved. “I should go,” he said, glancing out the window. “The weather’s gettin’ bad.” She touched his arm to keep him in his place. “The weather’s getting bad,” she agreed. Taking a breath and a leap, she suggested, “Why don’t you spend the night?” She laughed at how high his eyebrows shot up. “On the couch.” Before he could voice the objection she saw in his face, she added, “Listen. I’m doing it for my benefit as much as yours. It’ll be nice to have someone in the apartment again.” He gave it some thought and finally said, “Ok.” They both turned to the window again when Doggett added, “And I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He didn’t need to look at her to know she was giving him a questioning look. “I came here to see how you were doin’ and all I did was talk about me.” She propped her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her head in her palm. “It’s ok. We’ve never really had a chance to talk about you before, have we? I’m sorry for that.” He smirked and remarked, “Yeah, like I’m Mr. Chatty.” She laughed again and he found himself falling into the mood with her. When the moment subsided, he looked out the window again. The rain was running down the glass in constant rivulets and leaving clean paths behind it. “The rain washes everythin’ away,” he commented. Scully nodded in agreement. “It gives everything a chance to start fresh again." “Startin’ fresh.” He pondered this for a moment before responding. “Sounds good.” He looked over at her. “Sounds real good.” -end |
