Title: John Doe Revisited (1/1) Author: L. M. Shard E-Mail address: lsshard@home.com or lmshard@yahoo.com Rating: PG-13 Category: S, A, R Spoilers: John Doe Keywords: Doggett/Scully romance Feedback: is much appreciated!!! Archive: (probably) anywhere, just ask first Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own all characters within. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made by this. Note: This is a re-write of the ending of the "John Doe" episode (as well as a continuation/post-ep story.) I take no credit for most of the dialogue in the beginning of this piece. The rest is mine though. Summary: Alternate ending to "John Doe". What if it had been Scully instead of Reyes who had found Doggett in Mexico? JOHN DOE REVISITED By: L. M. Shard John Doggett had been missing for about two weeks, and Dana Scully had been beside herself with worry. She could barely eat, barely sleep, and her stomach was always in knots. Was he in trouble? Was he injured? Was he dead? God forbid, no. A million agonizing thoughts had preoccupied her mind. It was like Mulder's abduction all over again. With so many losses in her life, she was damned if she was going to lose him as well. So when they got the lead that Doggett was spotted in Mexico, Scully high-tailed it down there, going directly against Kersh's orders. She actually had to argue with Monica Reyes over which of the two of them would go find him, but Scully held her ground and Reyes finally backed down. Scully just felt she had to be the one in charge of finding him. After all, he was the one who found Mulder for her, and now it was her turn to look out for him. She was determined not to let another man she cared about disappear from her life. With a mixture of anticipation and fear swirling in her stomach, Scully walked into the large garage and out of the hot Mexican sun, her gun drawn. Without warning a metal pipe came rushing toward her and she quickly ducked, avoiding the devastating blow that surely would have occurred. In the same instant her heart breathed a sigh of great relief when she saw Doggett standing before her. He was alive! The joy she felt was incredible. "John, I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, her heart racing. He looked badly beaten, but before she could assess his physical injuries or even greet him, he grabbed her, pinned her to a nearby bus, and pried the gun from her hand, holding it against her. "Who are you?" He asked gruffly. This woman didn't look like she belonged here. "I'm your partner, Dana. Your name is John Doggett. You're an FBI agent. Do you remember?" She asked, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Doggett's grip on her was like steel, but somehow she was not afraid, even with the gun pointed at her. Doggett shook his head slightly, trying hard to remember. Was this woman telling him the truth? "John, trust me. We've got to leave. I'll explain in the car, but we're not safe here," Scully pleaded urgently. She knew they did not have much time. She must have gotten through to him, for he let her go and she turned around to face him. They were about to make their way to the door when they heard several cars approaching. It was the Mexican police. "I think they want us to come out," Scully said, listening to the Spanish, understanding a word here and there. "Sure, they want us to make it easy for them. The Cartel owns the cops in this town. They're gonna kill us," Doggett said. "They're going to try," Scully agreed. Doggett motioned toward the bus. "Take cover. Won't be long before they get tired of waiting." They moved to the front of the bus and hunkered down. Scully's mind was racing as to what their next move should be. It looked like they were surrounded, and she was honestly worried if they'd make it out alive. "So we're partners, huh?" Doggett asked, trying hard to remember. Somehow this woman seemed very familiar to him. "How long have we been working together?" "Not long," she responded. "Just over a year." Doggett thought her words over. God, if he could just remember! Living like this, not knowing a thing about himself, not knowing whom he could trust; it was all driving him crazy. Then he remembered the flashes of the little boy he had been having, and he knew that boy must be his son. Maybe this woman would know about him. If she did, it just might prove that she was telling him the truth about being partners. "What's the name of my son?" He asked casually. The question caught Scully completely off guard, causing jabs of pain to pierce through her heart. She quickly looked away, not wanting Doggett to see what was in her eyes. "It's weird, it is the only thing I can remember, that I have a son. I can see his face, but I can't remember his name," Doggett continued. Scully turned to look at him. "Luke," she said simply, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions about him. Not now. Not when their lives were in danger. Not when there wouldn't be any time to grieve. "Luke," he repeated, the sound of the name feeling good, natural. "How old is Luke? I can't even remember that." Scully met his gaze again, and all the anguish that was in her heart was now reflected in her eyes. She slightly shook her head from side to side, not knowing what to say or how to say it. But she didn't have to say anything; for Doggett saw in her eyes what her mouth could not communicate. A feeling of dread and incredible emptiness brewed in the pit of Doggett's stomach as he watched Scully's face. All her emotions were displayed clearly and, although she did not say a word, he knew. "Oh, God. Oh, God, no. He's dead. He was murdered, is that right?" He asked. "Is that right?" He repeated, panic in his voice. Scully was speechless. "He was kidnapped. He was just a little boy and…oh…" Doggett couldn't breathe; the pain of the memory was so overwhelming. It crushed him, taking him down, like a semi truck going one hundred miles and hour, and he forgot everything around him: Scully, the danger, probable death, as he relived the memory of his son's death. He cringed into himself, his face contorting in sheer anguish, as hot tears came flooding out of his tightly squeezed-shut eyes. Scully's heart broke as she watched the man she cared so much about crumple into a ball of unimaginable pain. That he had to relive this, the worst pain of his life, now, at a time like this, was so incredibly unjust. How very cruel life could be! With tears spilling onto her own cheeks, she did the only thing she could think of, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He shook in her embrace as his anguish was brought to the surface over and over and over again. He sobbed into her, clutching her, like he could somehow transfer some of the overwhelming pain away from himself. It was unbearable. A smoke bomb rolled toward the couple, and Scully noticed it immediately. It was time to do or die and gathering up her emotions she said, "They are smoking us out. John, I need you here. I need you to focus here!" Doggett was in his own world of agony and did not respond to her. She took the gun from him and ran to the window. It didn't look good. After firing a couple shots, she ran back to Doggett and grabbed him by the shoulders, "John, John, if we're going to die here, we're going to die on our feet. You hear me?" She yelled, desperate to get through to him. "You hear me?" She repeated. After a few seconds Doggett's face went blank and he said, "Get in the bus." They scrambled into the bus and Doggett threw it in reverse, plowing the vehicle through the garage walls, dispersing the police and their lined-up cars. They were out, but within seconds the bus fell to its side as the police continued shooting. Trapped, there was no way out alive. Doggett put a protective arm around Scully; he didn't know what else to do. Just when they had given up hope, the cavalry came. Within minutes the Mexican national police along with some members of the FBI had the local Mexican police under control and Doggett and Scully were safely out of the bus. After talking to their fellow FBI agents, Scully spotted Doggett alone. She walked over to him. "John, I'm so sorry about Luke, about you having to relive that," she said gently, her empathy displayed plainly in her eyes. Doggett looked at her and said, "I'll take the bad, as long as I can remember the good." Scully was moved, and embraced him once again. He responded immediately and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Although he still didn't remember much, just some memory flashes here and there, he had a feeling that this woman in his arms was something very special to him. "And there's a lot of good, John," she said softly in his ear. "I know," he responded, recalling the memory flash of his son riding his bicycle all on his own for the first time. "I know." Scully held back the tears that threatened to fall and pulled back. "Let's go get you cleaned up and I'll take a look at your wounds before we fly out of here. There's a flight scheduled for DC in about four hours." "I can't say no to a shower," Doggett said, cracking a slight smile. "I haven't had the privileged in quite a while." This time it was Scully's turn to smile. "I did notice you were a little on the grungy side." He beamed back at her, and seeing that handsome smile of his, put some joy back into her heart. Within several minutes they were back at Scully's motel. The room was far from the Four Seasons, but to Doggett it was the cleanest place he had seen in weeks. "Here, I brought you a change of clothes," Scully said, handing him the navy blue sweat pants and a white T-shirt she had found in his desk drawer. She had observed he always kept extra workout clothes like these at the office in case he had time to go to the gym at lunch or directly after work. "Thanks," Doggett said, taking them from her. "And I think you should take these," she said as she handed him a couple of extra strength Advil and a glass of water. "They will help with your pain and soreness." "Thanks," he said again, and after swallowing them, he headed for the bathroom. As he stood in the shower letting the hot water wash over his bruised and battered body, his thoughts turned to the woman who was waiting for him on the other side of the door. Dana Scully. His partner. Was she more than that? He racked his brain trying to remember, hoping for some sort of memory flash to clue him in. She was definitely his type, with her strength and fearless professionalism, yet her gentle compassion. The way she had comforted him when he had remembered about Luke and the way she was unafraid when he had held the gun to her, made him think that maybe they had more than a professional relationship, unless it was only wishful thinking. And where did she get his change of clothes? That was almost proof right there! If he could only just remember! This amnesia was driving him absolutely crazy. He wanted to ask where they stood, but in the event that they weren't anything but partners, he didn't want to sound like a jerk or give his hand away at the attraction he felt for her. After all, she could have another man in her life, maybe even a husband, although he had not noticed a wedding band. He decided to follow her lead or wait until his memory returned, whichever happened first. He stepped out of the shower and after wiping the steam off the mirror with a towel, took a good look at himself. He was shocked at how awful he looked. Hell, he looked like hell! That guy had beaten him up pretty badly. Gently he toweled himself off and slipped on his sweats and shirt. It felt so good to be clean and in clean clothes for a change. While Doggett was showering, Scully had taken out and arranged all the medical supplies she had brought with her on the nightstand next to the bed. What Doggett must have been through these past couple of weeks! The poor man! She couldn't imagine what it must be like to have no memory of your past or even of who you are, and then to have bits and pieces -- the most painful ones -- come flooding back little by little. She was determined to help him in any way she could. She just hoped that her efforts, her presence, would bring him some comfort. Doggett stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Scully sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked so beautiful to him and he couldn't help but flash her a smile. "You feeling better after that shower?" She asked, noticing his vibrant smile. "Much," he said, although his body still ached all over. He was also incredibly tired. With all the physical and emotional turmoil he had experienced lately, he was just wiped out. "Come here, John," Scully said, patting the spot next to her on the bed. "Let me take a look at your wounds. I'm a doctor," she added. He was pleasantly surprised. "You must be one smart lady!" He said and sat next to her. She smiled and stated, in her most doctor-like voice, "Could you please remove your shirt? I need to examine your torso as well." He complied and she was shocked by how many bruises covered his body and face. She was hoping most of what she had thought appeared as wounds, would have just been excessive dirt, but now that he was clean, she knew they were the real thing. The bruises covered a good portion of his face, especially around the eyes. With a gentle touch, she dabbed rubbing alcohol on the cuts and abrasions, and then soothed them with an antibacterial ointment. Luckily none of his cuts were deep enough to require stitches. Doggett watched her intently as she tended to his battered body. She worked skillfully, yet her touch was so tender it was almost a caress. This nearness to her allowed him to breathe in her faint, sweet scent and his mind reeled in the pleasure of it. As she was tending to a rather large bruise under one of his eyes, he caught her gaze with his and held it, searching for answers to his many questions. Her eyes seemed guarded, but the more he looked into them the more they opened up to him and the wall that was there, melted away. He definitely saw something in them that went way beyond a professional relationship. The urge to kiss her was so great, but without his memory to go by, he did not want to do something that could possibly overstep his bounds, yet he felt his body leaning towards her anyway. Suddenly the room flickered and everything went black. The next thing he knew was he was laying flat on his back, and a very worried Scully was hovering above him. He tried hard to focus on her eyes, and when he saw what could only be described as love in there, he became fully alert. Scully smiled when she saw that his eyes had finally focused on hers. She had been wracked with concern when he fainted on her a few moments ago. "Welcome back, John," she said with a smile. "What, what—" "You fainted," she said, casually brushing his hair back with her fingers. The touch soothed him immensely. "You probably haven't eaten in a while, giving you low blood sugar, and that mixed with the horrendous emotions you went through today made you pass out. I'll go get you something to eat. I'll be right back," she said walking to the door. Doggett instantly missed the sensation of her fingers running through his hair, but felt too tired and weak to protest. He gave her a feeble smile then closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep and much-needed sleep. Several minutes later Scully was back in the motel room carrying a steaming cup of soup and some tortillas. Quietly she set the food on the nightstand and observed the sleeping Doggett. He looked so vulnerable lying there. His face and body were in bad shape, but the bruises he carried on his heart were a million times worse. An overwhelming feeling of love, sorrow, and empathy washed over her and she had the intense desire to just hold him. So she did. She removed her shoes, draped a blanket over the both of them, and molded her body to the side of his and held him. Silent tears spilled from the corners of her eyes as she thought about all this man had been through. All she wanted to do was take away his pain. She loved him; there was no point in denying it any longer. His disappearance had proved that to her. Feeling his body breathe steadily in her arms comforted her and lulled her into a light slumber. About an hour later, Doggett awoke from several dreams. These dreams had such a real feeling to them, he thought they might have been memories. He remembered working with Scully on some case. He remembered feeling very protective of her and not wanting her to go where there was sure to be pain for her. He remembered someone else too. A man with dark hair, but he wasn't sure where he fit in yet. Were these really memories or just dreams disguised as such? One thing was for sure: he was not dreaming now. Scully really was sleeping next to him with her arm draped around him almost protectively. Perhaps that was why he had been dreaming of her. He was certain that that was why he felt an inner peace at the moment. She stirred and looked at Doggett. His eyes were closed and she assumed he was still sleeping, giving her the opportunity to continue lying at his side without explanation or guilt. She relished the feel of his body lying next to hers, and let her mind wander in the forbidden territory of what other pleasures his body, his love, could bring to her. When Doggett realized she was awake, he, without thinking, verbalized the question he had wanted to ask since she had told him they were partners earlier today. "Were we, are we lovers?" He asked softly. The question hung in the air heavily for what seemed like an eternity. He was starting to regret having asked it. Scully was surprised that he was awake and that he had found her lying next to him, but was even more surprised by his blunt question. She blushed and was thankful that his face was not turned toward her. "No," she said simply. Did her voice hold a tinge of regret? "Do we want to be?" He asked before he could stop himself. This time he turned to face her. Her cheeks were tainted crimson, and when their eyes met, she immediately lowered hers. His heart fell. She did not want him like that or she was already taken. A hundred thoughts ran through Scully's head, matched by a hundred possible answers. Had Doggett had his memory intact, she highly doubted he would have asked such a question, but he did not know where they stood. Perhaps he had feelings for her that were not lost in his memory banks or perhaps he was just trying to figure his life out. She could feel his eyes looking at her, waiting patiently for an answer. She forced herself to look up into them and saw a mixture of fear and hope. "Maybe," she said softly and watched the fear and hope dissolve into love. He grinned at her words and said, "I don't have most of my memory back yet, but just going by my feelings when I'm around you, from an emotional standpoint (and definitely a physical one) I would have to say I want to be." It was Scully's turn to grin. Gently she stroked her fingers over the uninjured parts of his face, and he closed his eyes to the exquisite feel. He took her hand from his face and kissed the inside of her palm. She loved him, he could feel it, but without his memory, he felt he had to move slowly. Apparently she didn't care if his memory was completely back yet, for the next thing he felt was her leaning into him and brushing her lips against his. The feeling was exhilarating and comforting at the same time, and he moved even closer, allowing their lips to touch completely. The kiss was tender and soulful; it took its time and relished in sensation. It intoxicated him, and every sense in his body was highly aroused. Scully felt as if she were floating; the sensations were almost dreamlike. Sheer perfection. And to think that this time together might have been stolen from them had they never found him, or worse, had they never found him alive. Tears welled up from within her and squeezed out of the corners of her shut lids. When they parted Doggett was surprised to see the tears slowly trickling down her porcelain cheeks. "Dana, what's wrong?" He asked, worried that she was regretting the intimate moment they had just shared. She tried to gather her emotions, but there were so many, all so strong. It all boiled down to this: "I'm so thankful you're alive. I thought I had lost you," she said in a thick voice. Several more tears spilled down her face and onto his. The feelings she saw in his face in reaction to her words were clear: gratefulness, joy, belonging, a sense of wonder, and an intense love. He cupped her face in his large, rough hands and kissed away her tears. His voice shook with emotion as he said softly, "I must be the luckiest man alive. Even though I don't totally know who I am myself, I have this most beautiful woman -- her kisses still fresh on my lips -- showing me how much she cares. Who am I to deserve this?" He was so touched by her display of emotions, yet at the same time so frustrated that he could not remember much of his life beyond the last couple weeks. "Oh, John," she breathed as she stroked his face with her fingertips. "You are a wonderful man. A man of honor, integrity, a sense of duty and responsibility. You are passionate about your work and always do what you think is right, even if it is the more difficult thing to do. Since I have meet you, you have stood by me as my partner, even when you did not see eye to eye with me on some of the cases. You show me respect even though I know you think some of my ideas are 'out there'. You are always putting my safety and my feelings first. You have somehow declared yourself my protector from the very start, though I would be the first person to say that I don't need a protector. John Doggett, you are a good man, and I am confident that one day your memory will return and you will know it yourself." He was astounded by her words and with every breath he saw her love more and more. He felt it for her as well, yet he was incomplete; and how could he give himself to her wholly if he was not whole himself? "Do you really think I will get all of my memory back?" He asked. She saw the desperation in his eyes, knowing he wanted to feel whole again in every way. "Yes, John, I do. It might come in waves with a little remembered at a time or it might come all at once. Give it time, and until then, I can fill in some of the blanks for you." She ran her fingers over his brows as his London blue eyes spoke their thanks in silence. He pulled her gently toward him and captured her mouth in another kiss. This one was filled with gratitude for all she said, for all she gave him, for all she made him feel. Whether or not he got his memory back, there was one thing he knew for sure: he loved her. And he would tell her when the time was right. He was about to pull her even closer, wanting to deepen the kiss, when a shrill sound startled them apart. Scully let out a little laugh and said, "That's the alarm clock I set. It means we better get out of here and head for the airport. I don't think we want to stay in this place any longer than we have to." Doggett nodded. "You got that right!" "Oh, here's the food I got you. It's cold, but probably still tasty anyway," she said referring to the soup and tortillas that had been totally forgotten. He nodded absently, his mind still on her. Scully pulled back from him and moved to get off of the bed. He gently grabbed her, pulling her back to him. "Thank you. Thank you for finding me, for helping me through this." She smiled brightly. "I'm glad I could help. Now we better get going or we're going to miss that flight!" He pulled her into another quick kiss before letting her go. An hour later they were sitting in the plane. Doggett had fallen asleep right after take off. With their entire row empty, they had a lot of room for themselves. Scully had insisted that he stretch out across the seats and use her lap as a pillow. She knew he needed as much rest as he could get and wanted to provide his battered body all the comfort possible. After a few feeble protests, Doggett did as she suggested and was asleep within seconds. This gave her the opportunity to gaze at him unobserved and without guilt. She stroked his soft brown hair, loving the feel of it on her skin. He looked so peaceful there on her lap and she committed every detail of his features to her memory. She recalled the expressions of agony on his face earlier that day when he had remembered about Luke. Her heart bled at the pain he had to go through again, and her body physically shook with the recollection. She knew that it was a pain that would never die. If she ever lost William, she'd surely go insane. The love a parent has for a child is so overwhelming, so complete, so unconditional; she never knew exactly how intense that feeling was until she had her baby. Perhaps having William in his life would ease that loss, even if just a little. It was Christmas morning and crumpled wrapping paper and a pile of just-opened gifts surrounded him. He looked up and saw his mom and dad sitting on the couch, smiling at him. He ran into their arms, feeling loved and safe. Now he was waking up in a bed and a beautiful blond woman, his wife, and their son were carrying a tray of food over to him. Luke jumped in bed next to him and helped him eat the special breakfast. It was his wedding day and the vision of his new bride was breathtaking. The love in her eyes was eternal and flawless like the shiny, unscratched rings on their fingers. Boot camp. Lebanon. Military orders were being barked at him. He was cold and hungry. Then out of nowhere stepped Monica Reyes. Bad news. His son was gone. Pain, anguish, agony; so dark he couldn't see. Doggett started moaning and writhing in Scully's lap. With an iron grip his hands clutched the blanket she had thrown over him. She tried to soothe him by tenderly stroking his face, but he was getting more and more distraught. She knew he must have been remembering. Although he desperately needed this sleep, she did not want him to have to go through any more pain again so soon. She decided to wake him. Hopefully he'd fall back asleep again quickly. "John," she whispered in his ear. "You're okay. It's just a dream. Shh…" His writhing ceased and his low moans turned to quiet whimpers. Her heart broke for the hundredth time that day. She leaned down as far as she could, and whispered in his ear. "John, I'm here for you. Everything's going to be okay." Surprisingly, he still did not wake up. Although his whimpering lessened, his hands were still tightly clutched around the blanket. Scully put her hands over his and whispered into his ear again. "I love you." She hadn't even intended to say those words, but they just flowed out, so naturally. She repeated them, "I love you," and he quieted down completely, his body relaxing. The pain vanished and in its place was Scully's face. She floated before him like an angel. Her belly was round and he realized she was pregnant. Suddenly she was holding her baby in her arms. A boy, like Luke. She was calling to him. Saying something, but he could not hear her. Ah, yes, now he could hear. John. John. "John, the plane is about to land; you need to get up," she said for the third time. He was really out. "John." He opened his eyes to find himself looking into seas of clear blue. He smiled from his place on her lap. "I remember," he said simply. Scully returned his smile. "You remember everything?" She asked hopefully. "Yeah," he said, sitting up. She drew him into a big hug. "Oh, I'm so glad, John. I'm so glad." "Everything is gonna be okay now. I'm me again," he said happily. She smiled. "You were always you. Even without your memory, your core person was within you. You were as decent a man without your memory as you are with it. That's just you. It's ingrained." He smiled, rather shyly, she thought. "Thanks, Dana. I owe you a lot." "You don't owe me a thing, John Doggett," she said. "Oh, but I do," he said, looking intensely into her eyes. "There is one thing I want you to know." "And what's that?" She asked. "I love you." She smiled brightly as tears welled in her eyes. "I love you too," she breathed, throwing herself into his arms. They kissed like lovers and their surroundings disappeared. Minutes later they disembarked from the plane and embarked on the rest of their lives, together. THE END