Title: Mystery Man Author: Agent X Summary: Scully realises how little she knows about her partner. Keywords: Vienen post-ep, Doggett and Scully POV's, DSF, black oil, aliens, Mulder Spoilers: Vienen plus minor Patience, Roadrunners, Invocation, TINH Rating: PG-13 I guess. Could even be G Disclaimer: The wonderful characters in this story are the property of the genius Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox Archive: anywhere you like, just let me know please Feedback: Yes please, good or bad, to aussie_xphile25@yahoo.com.au Dedication: This story is entirely dedicated to the wonderful Robert Patrick, who has inspired me to write this by bringing the character of John Doggett to life! _ Author's Note at the end! *No beta reader used. Excuse the typos* * * * "On the count of two." "How about twenty?" "OneÉ two!" Air. Whistling through the air. Rushing down to meet water at an impossible speed. Hit the water. Felt like concrete instead. Pain beyond pain. Blackness. * * * I can't believe I didn't see it before. I guess I was just so blinded by my happiness of his return that I didn't realise anything out of the ordinary. Still, I should have known something had changed. The silences. The cold stares. He just wasn't who he used to be. Even so, I would never have believed what he had become. One of *them*. And now Agent Doggett is out there with himÉ aloneÉ vunerableÉ as good as dead. I have to get to him before it's too late. The chopper is travelling at top speed, but with the blackness of night above and the infinite depth of water below, it seems like we are hardly moving at all. "Are we almost there?" I yell to the pilot, over the noise of the chopper. I can't hear his reply. I can't believe I didn't realise it sooner. After what happened to Billy Miles we should have kept a closer eye on Mulder. He seemed to be in perfect health. He certainly didn't slough his skin and come back as an alien. The virus prevented thatÉ and turned him into another type of alien. Perhaps if I'd dared to look him in the eyes, I might have seen the telltale black film slipping across them. I had been too afraid to look at him though, for fear I might see something else. For fear he might not love me anymore. None of that mattered now, though. Now my only concern was to protect my partner from the empty shell that was once the man I loved. Far out on the horizon I see a bright fiery mass. I catch the attention of the pilot and point in that direction. He nods and swings the helicopter towards it. As the nearing flames grow, so does my fear. I can only pray that Agent Doggett isn't still on the doomed rig. The pilot flies as close as he dares. Through the open sides of the copter I can feel the heat of the intense, oil-fueled flames. By the break of day there will be nothing left of the rig. We see no signs of life. "Maybe he jumped!" I yell to the pilot. My concern for the men working aboard the rig is minimal at best. I have no doubt they were contaminated by the black oil before Mulder and Doggett arrived. The pilot switches on the powerful searchlight and we begin scanning the water below for signs of life. We see none. * * * Floating. Flying. No, floating. Wet. Water. "Mulder?" "Mulder!" Nothing. Did he even hit the water? Did he even jump? Son of a bitch. Suddenly it all made sense. "Who was that on the radio?" "I *am* here." "I better damn well know about it." "How about twenty." He wasn't meant to be alive. He had been lured out to the rig to be killedÉ or infected. The black oil. The shadowy eyes. Mulder. He was one of them too. Wait. I don't believe in that stuff. Oh hell. I do now. ColdÉ so coldÉso cold Wait! A chopper! "Over here! Hey! Hey!" Hours passed. "Over here!" No. They can't be going. "I'm over here!" SilenceÉ FloatingÉ ColdÉ * * * I start getting scared. What if we don't find him? What if he has been trapped on the rig? What ifÉ oh godÉ what if he is dead. I shake myself, trying not to think of that possibility. I have already lost one partner, one friend, to these *things*. I can't lose another. I can't handle that. Just then one of the men gave a yell and pointed out to the west. With the glare of the searchlight glinting off the water, I can just make out a shape on the surface. Picking up my binoculars again I see it isn't just a shape. It is a *man*. I keep out of the way as the men aboard switch to 'rescue' mode. One of them barks out orders while the others prepare to bring the man up. As the chopper steadies directly above the figure in the water, I focus my binoculars on his face. My heart leaps as I realise it's him. It's Doggett. I look again and my breath catches in my throat. The men are in the water with him now, but he hasn't moved or opened his eyes. *Please God* I pray *Let him be alive* I wait nervously as they bring him up. He collapses in a wet heap on the floor as I kneel next to him. I press two finger to his neck and am relieved to find he has a pulse, albeit a weak one. "Doggett? John? Can you hear me?" He moans weakly and opens his eyes a bit. The chopper circles and starts to head back to the mainland. After being momentarily distracted I turn my attention back to my partner. I roll him onto his back and cradle his head in my lap. He is freezing cold and probably in shock. "John? I have to get these wet clothes off you. Can you sit up a bit?" He struggles up and I use one hand to support him while I pull his shirt over his head with the other. I notice bruises across his left ribs, probably from where he hit the water jumping off the burning rig. I call to one of the men to bring me some blankets. I lower my partner back onto the ground and pull off his shoes and socks. His eyes are closed again and his face is pale. One of the men brings me a pile of blankets and I slip one gently under my Doggett's head. As I do, he moans a bit and I feel my hand brush a lump on the back of his head. Probing a bit, I discover a cut as well. He winces a bit and opens his eyes. "Sorry. Just making sure it's not still bleeding." I cover him in a couple of blankets and contemplate removing his jeans as well. They are soaking wet and he's still in shock. I pause for a moment, then reach for his belt. As I undo the button, I see him watching me with a twinkle in his eye. "What?" I ask. "I guess if you're doing this it means I'm gonna die, huh?" he asked, amused but barely able to raise his voice above a whisper. I smile a little. "You're in shock. You need to get warm and your jeans are dripping wet." I proceed to take them off, not failing to notice the shape of his hips and legs as I pull the jeans down. Right now, though, I'm more concerned with his health. I'll worry about the shape of his lower parts laterÉ Shaking myself, I switch back into doctor mode. I wrap him completely in blankets and carefully lift his head to rest in my lap. Land is still a few hours away and Doggett has closed his eyes again. I donÕt know if he's asleep of not. He spent over five hours in the water and must be close to exhaustion. Now and then he shivers involuntarily and I rest my hand gently on his forehead. He is still shocky but his pulse is stronger and he's getting warmer. As I sit there I stare down at my partner, wondering why he went out the rig alone in the first place. God knows I wanted to go with him. Under any other circumstances I would have. But I couldn't risk my baby, and I knew he wouldn't have let me anyway. All he ever did was to protect me, to watch my back. Even if it meant putting his life on the line. He could have died out on that rig but he went anyway. I know he didn't do that just for me, though. He went out there, not even knowing what the black oil was, to stop the spread of the virus to American soil and possibly the rest of the world. What a man. Over the past few weeks I'm beginning to see my partner in a new light. He is not the mole I once thought he was, planted by Kersh to destroy the X-files once and for all. Nor is he the cold, uncaring man I made myself believe he was. When it came to the greater good, John Doggett's heart was as big as they came. And when it came to him, the place in my heart for him was growing larger every day. For almost a year I have tried to shut John Doggett out of my life. I know next to nothing about him and I didn't care to find out. He nearly died on our first case and I ignored him. He saved *my* life on our second case and I couldn't look him in the eye. He acted strangely on our third case together and I didn't bother to find out why. He gave up his career to find a man he didn't know, and I didn't ask why. I discovered he lost his son to a serial killer, yet I didn't even lend an ear or a shoulder. Why? I almost lost him tonight and it scared me that I didn't really *know* him. Hell, I don't even know his birthday. Smiling down at his peaceful face, I brush my hand lightly across his cheek and vow to unlock the mystery that is John Doggett. ~The End~ Author's Note: Finally wrote this after watching Vienen about 8 times in five days and deciding it needed a different ending. I know there's a lack of continuity because the chopper was already there at the end of the ep, but if CC doesn't give a flying f**k about continuity, why should I? No, it just worked better that way. "The greatest scene never shown on TXF: Doggett and Mulder coming out of the water at the end of Vienen" -Kabbie, SHODDS This fic is also dedicated to my fellow SHODDS and WIB. Especially Kabbie, the kick-ass bartender who keep my glass full, and to Dust and Summer, my drunken-karaoke buddies. _