Checking the Milk By ga (garrull@yahoo.com) Rating: PG I guess Category: Relentless angstorama. Character death, and those who are still there aren't all there. Dysfunctional DSR, mostly implied. Set about 2008 (not a post-col) but does not take The Truth into account, so call it AU if you like. Not Sallie-safe (sorry, sweetheart) Spoilers: William, Jump the Shark, miscellaneous references Disclaimer: I apologize Archive: just let me know. See also http://users.rcn.com/garrull Summary: Everybody Hurts Note: This answers an elements challenge Avalon issued on IWTB about a year ago. See the end for the list of elements. "John, I found her car. I'm in Alexandria, at the Safeway on South Van Dorn; it's about half a mile past the Landmark Mall, after Van Dorn breaks away from 395." "How the hell did you find her there--Ouija board? Never mind, I'm on my way. Keep her calm til I get there." "I'll try." Monica Reyes parked in the first available space, three down from Scully's car; she cut the engine and disconnected the call, then strode into the store. Dana Scully was crouched in the dairy aisle. "Dana?" Reyes began calling from too far away to touch. "Agent Reyes, I'm glad you're here; I could use some help." Scully sounded almost like herself for a moment. "Check the half-gallon cartons. One of these has to have William's picture on it." Reyes struggled to keep her voice level, even as the tears sprang to her eyes the way they always did. "Dana, they don't put missing children's pictures on milk cartons anymore." "Fine, I'll do it myself." Scully didn't look up; she continued to turn the quart containers around, one at a time. Reyes sighed, then knelt beside Scully and began to turn the half-gallons. "Dana?" Reyes reached out tentatively and barely touched Scully's shoulder, hiding her reaction as the other woman winced. She drew her hand back. "Do you remember when we talked about William last week? You remembered, then. He's not missing. He's safe; he was adopted, when he was still a baby." "NO!!!" Scully shouted, loudly enough that the other shoppers, who had been watching, trying to interrupt to get their own milk, backed away, clattering their carts in haste. Scully looked up at the sound, then continued in a hissed whisper. "They took him. They made it look like an adoption so that I wouldn't try to find him. But I know the truth..." She turned a few more cartons and then shook her head. "You're right, though. They won't let his picture be on the milk. Come on, let's get out of here." "Let's wait for John, Dana; he should be here any minute. Is there anything you need? I'm going to get some paper towels." Reyes had chosen paper products to be innocuous, and she cursed silently when she realized disposable diapers were in the same aisle. She watched without speaking as Scully selected several jumbo packages of Pampers. William would be seven by now. 'Call me when you try to wake her up,' said the lyrics on the piped-in music. Reyes spotted Doggett as they stood in the checkout line. "Over here, John," she called, and gestured with her eyes at the bundles in Scully's arms. "Dana," he spoke sweetly. "You just bought diapers yesterday, so there are plenty. They'll be on sale at Shopper's Warehouse next week; you can restock then." The gambit didn't always work--the homeless women's shelter in Father McCue's parish had received more than one donation--but this time it did. Reyes looked apologetically at the checkout staffer as Scully dropped her items into an empty shopping cart and took off for the exit, then did the same. Outside, it was Doggett who looked to Reyes with apology in his eyes--years of sorrow and long-lost might-have-beens. She met his eye for a moment, then kissed him on the cheek, affectionately but firmly, without romance. "Thanks, Mon," he said, his voice low. Then louder, "Do you want to come back to the house with us?" Scully looked up sharply. "We can't go to the house yet. They're waiting there, they'll take him." John simply nodded, not asking for details. "Okay, the diner, then. It's safe there." Scully looked relieved, and they both turned to Reyes, who shook her head. "I've got to get home, but thanks. Take care, Dana, and I'll see you tomorrow, John." "Okay, Monica. My regards to Chris." Reyes answered the acknowledgement with a subdued smile, and headed for her car. ---- They sat side-by-side in the booth, Doggett on the outside. Scully ordered her egg-white omelette without toast but would generally eat half a slice of Doggett's. He spread grape jelly on one piece and handed it over; she took a bite, then dropped the toast to her plate, glaring at him as though he'd poisoned her. "There's BUTTER on this toast," she snapped, after removing the offending bite from her mouth with a napkin. Reflexively, he looked her over; she was gaunt as the pictures he'd seen of her with cancer. The shirt she wore, he'd bought in the pre-teen department, and her pants hung low enough that her tattoo peeked out above them. "Just remember," she continued, "I'm a pathologist, so I won't get to clean out your clogged arteries til after you're dead." Doggett set down the toast and tossed his napkin on top of his plate. He was getting thinner as well. "It should be okay to go home now," he said softly. She considered this for a while and finally nodded consent. They'd taken his car; he'd take a cab back later to retrieve hers, after she was asleep. ---- It wasn't cool enough to need one, but building a fire in the fireplace gave Doggett something to focus on. Scully sat on the couch and watched him clear ashes from the grate. "We scattered the Lone Gunmen's ashes on the beach at Quantico," she announced, then paused to consider the statement. "No, wait. It was Quonochontaug, not Quantico. And it was Mulder, not the Gunmen. It was a Thursday. The Gunmen are dead though, right, John?" "Yes, Dana, I'm afraid they are. Six years ago. We can visit their graves in Arlington tomorrow if you want to." "So they weren't cremated. But we had to cremate Mulder so he'd stay dead this time...John--" she looked up, tears overflowing. "Mulder's dead." He was at her side in an instant, and when she didn't flinch from his hold on her hand, he gingerly gathered her into his arms. She sobbed into his chest. "I'm so, so sorry, Sweetheart. I know how hard it was for you. Mulder died four years ago--do you remember what happened?" She was still breathing heavily, snugged in his lap; after a moment, she gasped and stiffened, sitting up. "Oh my God!" Her eyes were glassy. He stroked her hair. "I did it. He was going to kill Krycek and I shot him." "You shot him in the shoulder, Dana," Doggett murmured. "That was a long time ago. He didn't die then; you didn't kill him." He continued to stroke her hair softly. He spoke more quietly, "If you don't remember, maybe it's better now if you don't know." She was up off his lap and pacing the room in a flash. "What do you mean, it's better if I don't know? They killed Mulder, dammit! We have to find them, we can't just let this go. THEY KILLED MULDER!" Stiffly, Doggett rose and made his way to the liquor cabinet, removing a bottle of Cuervo Gold and two shot glasses. "Mulder liked tequila, Dana. Whaddya say, let's have a toast to him--you and me, in Mulder's honor." She stood still and accepted the shot, whispered "To Mulder," as a tear rolled down one cheek. She sipped at the liquor in the small glass, savoring it as though it were scotch. Halfway through the shot, she settled back on the sofa. He felt guilty every time he calmed her with alcohol, but he needed her to sleep, so he could fetch the car. "I want my mother," she whined softly. Doggett lifted the phone on the desk from its cradle and hit 2 on the speed dial. "Maggie, it's John. Can you keep Dana company on the phone? I have to go get her car...No, not too far this time, a few towns over. I shouldn't be gone that long. Thanks." He turned and handed the phone to her. "Dana, it's for you. It's your mother." "Mom?" she crooned into the receiver. "Mom, they took William..." Doggett slipped quietly out of the house. Elements: 1. toast with butter and jelly 2. an REM song playing (The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight, plus see Summary) 3. a Ouija board 4. Scully in an outfit that shows her tattoo 5. the Lone Gunmen on a beach 6. a shot of tequila