For The Record

By:   Shawen A. Greer

Rated PG for language

Vignette, Doggett POV

Spoilers:  The Gift and Season 8 in general.

 

 

The goddam cursor sits there, flashing like a rhythmic taunt, daring me with every pulse to record each blur of a memory for the record.  But, every time I place my fingertips to the keys to answer the challenge, something stops me.  Better judgment? Maybe, or is it something else?

 

I reviewed every aspect of this case on that long drive to Hick town, Pennsylvania, the same way I have every other missing persons case for The Bureau and for the NYPD. In New York it was easy to fit the pieces together when you had a wife that mysteriously disappeared, a week after her crack smoking husband took out a million dollar life insurance policy.  Pretty generous offer considering she was shacking up with the Landlord every other Tuesday.

 

In the Bureau, the players are of course different and tend to make better news fodder because of the higher stakes.  Its never mattered to me how much the person was worth or who's political career would suffer from the embarrassment, only that we found them alive and caught the sonofabitch that did it.  

 

I approached the case of Fox Mulder no differently; maybe that was where I made my first mistake.      Because Agent Mulder is different.  I will admit that I have been subjected to some rather strange happenings since my wet introduction to Agent Scully and my relocation to the basement, but up until now, the puzzle pieces seemed to hold an obvious pattern that simply awaited assembly.          

 

Everyone has secrets and Mulder is no exception.  In fact, there are probably things buried so deep that a bulldozer couldn't uncover them.  So, now I sit reflecting on the one mystery that I was able figure out, and I have to tell you, I'm not so sure how I feel about it.

 

He couldn't go through with it.  That's what she said. He knew that he only had a couple of months to live, so he was willing to risk his career and everything else on the most unorthodox of healing fantasies.  To be…eaten…by this monster, this disfigured man, in the unrealistic hope of his disease being consumed.  In the Corp I heard a lot of things that would make your hair stand on end, but nothing ever unsettled me quite the way that story did.  Though I'm not sure if her saying that he couldn't go through doesn't bother me more.

 

She told me that Mulder saw the pain and the suffering in the creature's eyes and couldn't go through with it.  In essence, he was willing to trade his own life, speaking hypothetically of course that the healing was even possible, for another man.  Trade it for a man that he didn't even know.  Who is this man that I search for?  I wanted to believe that there was some dark seeded reason for his disappearance, a cover-up, but I find myself faced with the unquestionable honor of a man whose reputation has been obviously tainted by those who are envious of his character.  Maybe he is spooky, I've never met the man, but in truth haven't all the great ones been eccentric?  Maybe that's what makes him brilliant, and that is one attribute they have ever denied.

 

 I am still no closer to finding him than I was at the beginning.  Maybe he is dead already?  Dear God in heaven, that is a cross that I do not wish to bear.  How could I face her with that news?  Especially in her condition.  Okay, so maybe I'm wrong about her "condition" as I have started referring to it, silently of course.  She has never offered the information, but I was a good cop, and the one thing I knew how to do was to identify the clues when they presented themselves.  The deciding factors for me were her secrecy,  A.D. Skinner's defensiveness as he protects her like his baby sister, and the little matter of her admission into the hospital for abdominal pain.  That of course added to the case at hand leaves little room for speculation.  It would seem apparent that if in fact my suspicions are correct; that the child I believe she carries is Mulder's.

 

Does she know where he was?  She signed off on false reports. Although, she may not have known they were false, he may have told her a believable story.  Why would she doubt him?  More importantly though, if she did know about his journey to find his healing river of Jordan, did she know that he didn't succeed?

 

Dammit Mulder!  What were you thinking?  How could you not take a chance on being healed?  Agent Scully and the baby need you!  Now, even if I can find you, it will be a race to see if I can find you before Death does.  You don't even know about the baby do you?  How could you know?  If you did I'm sure that your decision would have been different.  I know.  I would have done anything for my son, probably even take ridiculous chances, but that was a long time ago.

 

Could he have been healed?  We will never know now as the creature lies in an unmarked grave that I helped her dig.  He consumed my death.  My death.  That's where the images get fuzzy.  I remember putting that sobbing creature in the car and standing my ground with the men of the town.  And that noise!  What the hell was that?  It sounded like a shotgun!  A shotgun blast, he consumed my death…I just can't do this now.  That is one road that I am not ready to travel yet.  I need to find Mulder now more than ever, to help me understand what happened.  I may be a Marine, but I just don't have the mettle to face what could be the truth.

 

A silent shadow at the door breaks my concentration and I look up, surprised to see a familiar face at this time of night.  "A.D. Skinner," I say, "you're here late."

 

"So are you Agent Doggett," comes the response.  He approaches my desk with his usual stride, and I tell him of the difficulty I am having filing my report.  Don't file it?  What does he mean don't file it?  I have to!  They have to know the truth about Mulder.  It wasn't murder!  It was…oh, I don't know what the hell it was, I just know what it wasn't.

 

"You got into his head Agent Doggett," he says, "you understood more than I ever could have," he continues, but I find I'm no longer listening.  I did get into his head didn't I?  Or did he allow me to?  Is he still around somewhere making sure I find the answers?  Listen to me; I'm getting carried away with all this hocus-pocus.  What did he just say?

 

"You and I both know what happened out there, no one else needs to," he says as he takes his leave, but not before handing me a paper.  It is a drawing of the healing symbol that was on the door of the Hangemuhl house.  What did Frohike say?  That it shows the cycle of life, that death is simply part of life divided by happiness and sorrow.  Somehow that seems truer now.

 

As I lower the flimsy sheet our eyes meet and I stare in awe at Fox Mulder just across the room, watching.  If I were a believing man, I would say that it is a vision, but it is far too real to be anything but.  Neither of us speaks, there is no reason to, we both know what needs to be said, then as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

 

I blink a few times trying to clear my head, and I turn again to that damn blinking tormenter.  I nod to myself, understanding what I must do and turn the blasted thing off.  I gather my things so I can head home, tired, but doubting that sleep would come easy tonight.  My footsteps echo in the silent room as I approach the door.  There is an eerie feeling that settles around me, as though eyes that I can’t see watch over me.  I turn the lock and look back one final time where he stood, drawing a new confidence and strength from him.  I answer him silently, but somehow I know he hears me.  "Don't worry Agent Mulder, I'll take care of her.      I'll watch over her until I find you.  And, I will find you, somehow.  You have my word."

 

I won't tell them what I saw here tonight, but I will keep my promise. I have to, for honor.

 

The End