Author: spookycc

Classification: Missing scenes, post-ep, 4D. DRF, implied unrequited DSR

Spoilers: 4D, general knowledge of S8 and S9 thus far. Mentions facts assumed from "Empedocles".

Summary: My feelings were confusing during this ep. Apparently, so were Monica's. Told in first person Reyes POV. Be gentle. I've never channeled Monica before. ;- p

Dedication: To Doggett's Bitch. Best friend, mentor, Captain, beta, soulmate. And to Girlassassin, survivor and dear friend.

Archival: I'll take care of Gossamer and Ephemeral. Anyone else who wants it is welcome to it, just let me know where it's going. XFMU & OBSDS member sites, it's yours if you want it, no notification needed.

Feedback: Love it. spookycc@yahoo.com

* * *

Two-Dimensional

It's a nightmare. A bad dream, nothing more. I keep telling myself this, as I step onto the elevator at Washington Memorial Hospital. I've been repeating that mantra over and over, all the way here. I remember none of the drive, but here I am.

It *can't* be John Doggett they found shot, in an alley. He was with me. But, then, where was he after Skinner's call? My thoughts racing, my pulse racing even faster, I exit into the O.R. waiting room.

I try to explain to Brad what has happened. I need him to understand that it was not John who was shot. It couldn't have been John. I see Dana approaching behind Brad, and I push past him to meet her.

"Monica, I'm so sorry." Dana's words fill me with worry. She's *sorry*. "Agent Doggett is just coming out of surgery. They're moving him to the ICU." She's wrong – isn't she? Nothing has happened to John – he was with me. I need her to understand that this is all wrong. Everything has been wrong, ever since I answered that phone call from A.D. Skinner this morning.

Brad breaks an awkward silence. "How's it look?"

Dana takes a deep breath. Unshed tears well up in her eyes. "If he pulls through this," she licks her lips, her eyes still meeting mine, "it's likely that he'll be paralyzed for life."

No. No, it can't be. John was with *me*. Dana leads us to the room she says they've taken John to. I push my way in first. I *have* to see, to show them it's all a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake.

I stop in my tracks when I see him there. No. God, no. It *is* John. How can that be? He looks so pale, so – lifeless. I cross the distance between us, to stand beside his bed. I take his hand in my own, and swallow a sob. It's like John is already gone. I can't lose him now – not like this. Not when we've just begun to rediscover our feelings. The tears come, and I try to hold them back. They won't be stopped.

* * *

I watch him sleep. Despite the neck collar, sleep erases so many of the lines of worry from his face. The artificial breathing of the respirator is a harsh contrast to the image of his peaceful sleep.

I want to take him away from here. Back to my apartment, where none of this happened. I still don't know how this *has* happened.

My mind goes back, to the last place in the world I would normally want to go – except for here. New York City, 1997. That was the year I met John, under the worst circumstances one could imagine.

John Doggett was so alone. Talking to the very few people he called close friends, I discovered that he and his wife had already been having problems. When their son disappeared, John was, of course, all too willing to accept the blame she placed on him.

I don't think most of his fellow officers really understood him. He seems pretty straightforward, but he has layers that many people never suspect he has.

I'll never forget the days we spent together. Three days that were gone before I'd realized it, yet seemed to stretch on forever at the time. Three days we spent looking for his son - hoping against hope, until we found Luke.

I felt something for John Doggett then, something that I'd never felt before. Truth be told, I've never felt it since. I felt a symbiosis, as if we were meant to be together, in whatever situation that might be. I remember the evening after we found Luke as though it was yesterday. John would accept comfort from me, but nothing more. Straight-laced, Irish Catholic, he wouldn't do anything remotely untrue to his wife. My last night in New York, John received what he could from me, then closed himself off, rather than betray his wife, who was actually married to him in name only. I honestly thought I'd never see him again, and I guess part of me would have been relieved if that had been the case. He brings out stronger emotions in me than I'm prepared to deal with.

But he called me in when Scully's search for Mulder became *his* search. Desperately grasping for earth-bound answers while Scully leaped at paranormal theories, he needed the clarity I'd helped him achieve, years ago.

I was nervous about seeing John again. At one time thrilled at the prospect of being a part of his life, and terrified by the feelings that brought out in me.

Then I saw John with Dana Scully, and I knew that my feelings were not part of the equation. Simply watching their interaction told me all I needed to know. John's emotions for Dana Scully went *way* beyond partnerly concern. She was everything to him. Nothing else mattered. He was so determined that their search would not end as *our* search had, years ago.

And then we found Mulder. I know John was ready to help Dana deal with her loss - I felt that from him. But three months later, when Mulder was "revived", John Doggett's world was turned on its heel. He was heartbroken. He felt superfluous, the odd person out. He didn't need to tell me that – it was in his every movement, his every sigh, the sadness in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.

I was watching.

Now Mulder is gone, again. I don't know if John will pursue the feelings still in his heart for Scully. I know that a part of Dana went with Mulder when he left for parts unknown, driven by warnings from within the Bureau. Will she accept John's love now? I honestly can't touch her feelings enough to know.

* * *

Finally, it's over. Almost over. I know what I need to do – what I *have* to do - to set things right. Locking the hospital door behind me, I walk to John's bedside and take his hand once more in mine. I know what he wants. And I know what I have to do, for a different reason. Part of me almost backs down, backs away. Then I turn off the alarms on the monitor, and gently depress the button that will turn off the respirator.

I watch the last vestige of movement in his hand, before it lays still atop my own. There is no look on John's face that tells me he is gone, but I know. I feel his spirit leave me, and I feel so alone – shattered, like a fragile vase in which his consciousness once flourished. Tears stream freely down my cheeks, and I close my eyes, trying to tell myself that I have done the right thing. What John wanted. What was needed, to restore things to the way they were. But what if I was wrong? God, what if I was wrong?

A dial tone buzzes in my ears, and I open my eyes. I am standing, in my apartment, holding the phone. Things are *almost* as they were before this whole nightmare started.

And then John walks into the room, still smiling. Or smiling *again*. He says something I don't consciously hear, and closes the distance between us with long, sure strides. "What's wrong?"

Nothing is wrong, not now. I take him in my arms, and hold him as one who has lost someone and found him again. He feels my urgency, I know, but he is confused. "Monica, what's wrong?"

I shake my head slightly, as it rests on his firm shoulder. "I'm good," is all I can say. "Good."

He does not question me; he only tightens his hold on me, knowing that is what I need. I don't know why it's taken this tragedy to make me realize that I'm not ready just yet to let go of the deep feelings I have for John.

But how do I deal with these feelings? I know John's intense devotion to Scully, but what I feel from Scully toward John isn't the same. She cares about him a great deal, I can sense that. But the strength of emotion flowing from her is not the same. Nowhere *near* the same. I understand all that she's been through in the last year. It takes a tremendous emotional toll on a person. And I sense that Scully has always been a person who hides from her true feelings a lot, represses them.

If she becomes capable of giving herself to him as fully as John gives of himself to her - and if that is what he wants – I will honestly try not to stand in the way. But I can't deny the feelings *I* have for John, either. And I feel him responding to them, as he didn't when we were first brought back together last year.

He pulls back, just a bit, and brushes away my tears, his fingertips rough against my cheeks. I smile up at him. He is looking at me with questions in his eyes. John can say so much with his eyes, sometimes he hardly needs words. His eyes ask me, "What happened?"

I shake my head, and pull him tightly to me once again. "You'd never believe me," I cry into his soft jacket. The tears are happy tears, this time.

He runs a hand through the back of my hair, stroking, soothing, and I relax once more, into his arms. I hadn't realized that a part of me was missing, the entire time I was away from John. His caring nature washes over me, and I make a conscious decision.

For a year, the feelings he has for Dana have been unrequited. If they remain unrequited, I will see if I can make a place in his life for `*us*.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I know I'm probably leaning right where 1013 wants me to, but I really *felt* for Reyes for the first time while watching 4D. I'm hovering confusedly between DSR and DRR. Hell, I don't even really care if he has a *gal*, as long as someone cares about John. He deserves that.

My egroup Order of the Blessed Saint Doggett the Selfless is at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/OBSDS/