Title: Revelation Author: Agent X Summary: Something is wrong with Doggett, so it's Dr Scully to the rescue Spoilers: Season 8 - very minor Timeline: During the search for Mulder Disclaimer: The character in this story are the property of the genius Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox Archive: anywhere you like, just let me know please Feedback: Good or bad, to aussie_xphile25@yahoo.com.au . Flames are encouraged - I do love a good fight! Dedication: This story is dedicated to the wonderful Robert Patrick, who has inspired me to write this by bringing the character of John Doggett to life! _ Also dedicated to DB, captain of the Doggship, whose own bout of sickness inspired the Chicken Soup Series Author's Note: This story is part of the Chicken Soup for the SHODDSsoul Series but is still a stand-alone story. Long-time X-philes may notice the similarity between part of this and a scene from Demons (4x23). This is intentional - see more notes at the end. * No beta reader used. Please excuse the typos * * * * Revelation * * * Friday I glance up from my computer screen to find Agent Doggett asleep, his head resting on his desk. This is the fourth time he's fallen asleep today and it's so unlike him I'm starting to worry. I walk over to him and place a hand gently on his shoulder. "Agent Doggett?" I say quietly. He starts awake and sits bolt upright in his chair, staring at me with wild eyes. "It's okay, Agent Doggett," I reassure him. "It's me - Scully." He focuses on my face and relaxes somewhat, before looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Agent Scully," he says, somewhat sheepishly. "I must've fallen asleep." He shakes his head and focuses on the blank computer screen in front of him. I stare at him for a moment, noting for the first time the dark circles under his eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask. He looks up at me, surprised at my concern, and then nods. "I'm fine." I almost laugh. "That's usually my line." He smiles faintly. "No, really, I'm okay," he says, trying to convince me. "I just haven't been sleeping much lately." God, I know the feeling. I can't remember what it feels like to have a good night's sleep; to wake up in the morning ready to take on the world. For me, that all disappeared with Mulder. "Maybe you should go home," I say. "After all, there's not much to do here except paperwork. I'm sure I can handle that." He shakes his head and sits up, trying to look more alert. "Nah, I'm okay," he says. "Besides, I've got a few thing I want to check out before I go today." I nod and return to my desk. By the time I leave just after seven, my partner is asleep at his desk again. He looked so tired before that I am reluctant to wake him now. Instead, I switch off his computer and lay his jacket over his shoulders. It's the weekend so he'll get a couple of days rest. God knows he needs it. So do I. * * * Monday I am jolted from my somewhat restless slumber by the loud ringing of my phone. Taking a moment to glance at the clock I see it is 2.28 in the morning. Who the hell is ringing me at this hour? I suppose I should be used to it after working with Mulder for eight years, but a night of uninterrupted sleep would be nice, once in a while. "Hello?" I say, still trying to wake myself up a bit. "Agent Scully?" Hearing my partner's voice I am immediately wide awake. Something isn't right. "Agent Doggett, is something wrong?" I ask. "I think soÉ yeah, there is," he says hesitantly. I must be something serious too. My partner is normally so in control; of his surroundings *and* himself. It would take something pretty serious for him to be calling me in the middle of the night, unlessÉ a thought strikes me. "Is it Mulder?" I ask, thinking that could be the only reason he sounded so strange. Had he found him? Had he found him *alive*? "No," he says. "It's not MulderÉ it's me." I feel a little stupid for voicing my assumption, but that is immediately replaced by concern as I remember his condition at work yesterday. "Where are you? Still at the office?" I ask, getting out of bed and pulling a sweater over my t-shirt. "No. At homeÉ I don't rememberÉ" I pull my shoes on. "Are you hurt, Agent Doggett?" There is a paused and I hear him take a deep breath. "NoÉ I don't think soÉ butÉ" Although I can't see him, I can tell enough about his condition just from his voice to know he's in shock and he needs my help, *now*. "Stay there, Agent Doggett. I'm on my way." I'm already out the door. * * * Twenty five minutes later I'm at my partner's house. I'm halfway between alarmed and relieved to find the front door ajar. Alarmed because he wouldn't knowingly leave it that way, but relieved I don't have to climb through a window. I expect to find him in the bedroom, however the dishevelled sheets are empty. I hear water running in the bathroom and tap lightly on the door. "Agent Doggett?" I call. No answer. I hesitate before opening the door. This man isn't Mulder. We've only known each other a few months and have nothing *near* the level of comfort Mulder and I shared. Hell, we barely have a *familiarity* with each other. Still, Agent Doggett trusted me enough to call me for help, so this is the least I can do. I push the door open and step into the room. "Agent Doggett?" I say again, as I peer through the clouds of steam in the air. The shower is running and I see a pile of clothes on the floor. "Doggett? Are you in here?" I say, thinking maybe he didn't hear me the first time. No answer. Shit. To hell with familiarity. I pull back the shower curtain to discover my partner in the tub. His legs are drawn up to his chest and he is shivering visibly. He barely glances up and if he realises it's me, he doesn't show it. "Doggett, can you hear me?" I say as I reach over and turn the water off. Finally he glances my way. "Can'tÉ can't get warm," he stutters through chattering teeth. I hand him a towel. "You're in shock," I say, unconsciously switching into doctor mode. "Dry yourself off and I'll get you a blanket." When I return a moment later he is still sitting where I left him. I help him to stand and wrap the blanket around his body. I fleetingly wonder if any female doctor can stop herself checking out her male patients just a bit. I can't. Pushing that thought to the back of my mind, I steady him as he steps out of the tub. Guiding him slowly into the other room I sit him down on the edge of the bed and proceed to examine him. "Do you feel sick? Nauseous or dizzy?" He shook his head a little. "NoÉ no, butÉ maybe a little dizzyÉ yeahÉ just a bitÉ" I take his head in my hands and check for lumps or cuts. I find none. "Were you here alone?" I ask, kneeling on the floor in front of him. "I, uhÉ I think so. I don't know. I don't remember anything." I hold one index finger up in front of him. "Track my finger," I say, moving it from side to side slowly. He has trouble following the movement. Time for more questions. "Do you know what day it is?" "UhÉ" he frowns, trying to remember. "No. What day is it?" "Monday. What is the last thing you remember?" He has to think for a while before answering. "UhÉ talking to you at work." Shit. That was on *Friday*. What the hell has happened to him? I try to cover my concern. "Do you feel any pain? Did you take anything?" He shakes his head. "Did you eat anything that didn't agree with you?" "Haven't felt like eating for a few daysÉ not sinceÉ Thursday, maybeÉ" Definitely not food poisoning, then. He shivers involuntarily. I have to get him warm. He is still wrapped in the blanket, but he's going to need more of them. I find them in the cupboard down the hall. On my return I discover he has slumped back into the pillows, asleep or unconscious, I don't know. Carefully, so not to wake him, I cover him with another couple of blankets and lay a hand on his forehead. It is cold and clammy. I search my mind for what might be the cause of his illness. Fatigue, confusion, memory lossÉ could be any number of thingsÉ Leaving my partner for a moment I enter the kitchen and search the cupboards for glasses. I'm about to fill one with tap water when I notice a whole lot of empty ones sitting in the sink. My thoughts drift back a few years to when someone had been doping Mulder's water. I remember how he was actingÉ confused, tiredÉ could it be the same thing? I know it's kind of a leap to be making, but the thing that makes me suspicious what Doggett had been working on in the last few days. I know he's been following up countless lead to Mulder's whereabouts in the past few months, but this one was different. It connected Mulder's disappearance to a man named Alex Krycek; Mulder's former partner who was now a wanted fugitive and a cold-blooded killer. Mulder was trying to track down the man when *his* water was being doped, so maybe Krycek, for fear of begin caught, is doing the same thing to DoggettÉ I wouldn't put it past him. Neither would I put it past him to just put a bullet in Doggett's head, but stillÉ he always has inventive ways of dealing with problemsÉ I leave the kitchen without the water and find the stairs to the basement. After a quick search I find the pipes that connect the house to the water supply. A close look shows me scratches on the metal and part of the pipe looks as if it has been recently replaced. Shit. Finding a screw driver nearby, I pry open one of the caps on the pipes. I don't need to test to water to tell something has been added to it. It smells just a little off, and there is a powdery white ring around the pipe. At least I know what is wrong nowÉ although not exactly how to treat it. The drug, although I don't know exactly what it is, not only has a doping effect, but also seems to make the drinker extremely thirsty. This, in turn, makes them consume more of the poisoned water, worsening their condition. No wonder Doggett was falling asleep on FridayÉ it's a wonder he's still here after drinking it for so long. Mulder only drank it for a day and he was as sick as a dog. I return to the bedroom. Doggett has his eyes closed but opens them as I place a hand on his shoulder. I sit down next to him on the bed. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he asks, barely raising his voice above a whisper. "Someone has been doping your water," I say. "DopingÉ?" he say, not really listening to what I'm saying. "Don't worry about it for now. The most important thing is for you to sleep, okay?" If he heard me, he gives no indication. His eyes slip shut again and his head lolls to one side. As I told him, the most important thing now is for him to get some rest; to rid his body of the drug. I decide to let him sleep and ask questions later. I pull the blankets up over his bare shoulders and put a chair close to the bed. After all he has done for me these past months, the least I can do is stay with him and make sure he's okay. It's strange, but looking at him now, I realise I don't really know him that well. I guess with all I've had to deal with I didn't have *time* to get to know him. Then again, if I'd had the time, I don't think it would have made a difference. I didn't *want* to know him, because knowing someone makes them a part of your life, a part of *you*. I didn't want him to be a part of my life. Not as a partner, or a friend. In my mind, I would always have one partner only: Mulder. Because of this I shut John Doggett out and pretended he didn't exist. And still he watched my back watched my back without question. He made my search for Mulder his own, and I threw water in his face. He spent sleepless nights chasing the shadow of a man he never knew, and I ignored him. And now, despite all that, in his time of need he came to me. He put faith in meÉ in his partner. And, damnit, I won't let him down. It's taken me six months to realise John Doggett isn't just a tag-a-long whom Kersh holds on a leash. Every man must go his own way, and, when faced with the choice six months ago, Doggett chose the selfless way, the X-Files way. I finally realise something as I sit at this man's bedside. A revelation that hits me like a bus. I should have realised it long ago, but maybe I didn't want to. Now, in the darkness of the room, something becomes as clear as daylight: John Doggett is my partner. ~The End~ Author's Notes: Okay, this isn't exactly the ending I planned but I just felt the need to get on my soapbox. The similarity between part of this and Demons (4x23) is intentional - I like the original Demons with Mulder, but the scene just fitted well into the story. There are also elements from Anasazi in here, with the doping of the water. I have no idea how water *is* doped, so I just made it up. I apologise if the story doesn't flow too well, or doesn't make sense. I rewrote so many little bits that I don't even remember how the story goesÉ :-)