Title: Drowning Sorrows Author: ML Email: msnsc21@aol.com Feedback: much appreciated, always! Distribution: Ephemeral and Gossamer, yes; if you've archived me before, yes; if not, please drop me a line so I can come visit, and keep my name and email attached. Thanks. Spoilers: DeadAlive Rating: PG-13 for a couple of bad words Classification: missing scene, angst Keywords: MSR, Skinner/Doggett friendship. Skinner POV Summary: Two manly men share their feelings. Disclaimer: The characters described in this story do not belong to me. They are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I mean no infringement, and I am making no profit from this. ===== Drowning Sorrows by ML I'm sitting alone in the waiting room, my head in my hands, when Doggett sticks his head through the door. He says in a low voice, "He's awake. His eyes are open." I look up at him and nod, but I don't move. This is the news I've been waiting for. I expected to feel a lifting of the burden I've been carrying since Mulder disappeared, but it's still there. Doggett had disappeared again after his announcement but now he's back, two cups of coffee in his hands. He gives one to me and sits in the chair opposite me, elbows resting on his knees. "Wish I had something stronger to put in this," he says in his rusty voice, and raises the paper cup to his mouth. I'm sick of hospital coffee, hospital waiting rooms, anything to do with hospitals. Or morgues. Or graveyards. I wish I could feel something, some slight sense of vindication, but I don't. "You can say `I told you so' if you want," Doggett offers. I shake my head. There's no point to that. My mind is on the room just down the hall, on what those two are saying--or not saying--to each other right now. I wish I felt I had the right to be in there, too, but I don't. Scully thinks I saved the day. She has no idea how I almost deliberately failed her again. I would have given my life instead of either of theirs, but Krycek doesn't want my life. He wants me as a tool, or he would have killed me long ago. Doggett takes another swallow and sits pensively staring at a spot on the floor. He looks up again, and says, "You should probably go in there. I'm sure Mulder would want to--" "No!" I say, with more force than I intend. "I don't want to be thanked." I don't add that I don't deserve it, but Doggett seems to hear that anyway. "You are the hero of the day," he says. "If it hadn't been for--" "Don't pretend you don't know what I was doing in Mulder's room, or why I was doing it," I interrupt. "It was only luck that it turned out to be the right thing to do. I would have let him die--" "The point is, he didn't," Doggett contradicts me. "How many decision are made by accident every day? Columbus wasn't looking for America when he stumbled across it, the guy who discovered penicillin was looking for something else--" "Spare me the inspirational history lesson, Agent Doggett," I snap. "I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm stating the facts." His faded, tired eyes bore into me. "Don't forget the main fact. Mulder's alive, and it looks like he's gonna get well, and you played a part in that." A pause. "A major part." I look across at Doggett. Here is a man who has been chewed up and spit out by the X-Files--literally--and yet he refuses to give them up. He doesn't even believe in the phenomena that Mulder and Scully have investigated for years. Not because of a hard science background, like Scully, but because he just doesn't. I've heard his knee-jerk objections to Scully's somewhat tentative theories. But then he investigates anyway, in his own way, and often comes up with something useful. He puts his faith in standard investigative techniques and leaves Scully to fill in the gaps. Just today he went to see Absalom in prison, and learned something he deemed important to the case, however improbable what he heard seemed to be. He didn't ignore it, no matter how he felt about it. He brought it to Scully, only to find she'd already figured it out. But the fact is, though he didn't believe, he still pursued the case. Though he objected to me exhuming Mulder's body, he went along anyway. And despite his objections, he supported me, as he has Scully. From what I hear, he has turned down Kersh's offer for a promotion off the X-Files. He doesn't realize what a support he's been to Scully these last months. If he'd been too quick to believe, to go along with what she said, I don't think she would have fought as hard as she did to believe herself. Scully has always needed something to put her back up against, and Agent Doggett has acted as her prop. He doesn't realize what an important role he has played in Mulder's ultimate return. I suddenly see that he probably feels as worthless and useless as I do right now. He'd promised Scully that he'd find Mulder almost as often as I did, and I saw how he was affected in Montana. I think he might be a little in love with Agent Scully, but I'm not really in a position to criticize him for it. The fact is, neither of us feels worthy of her. We will never be able to give her what she really wants and needs. We can only do our fumbling best and hope we don't screw up too badly. Eventually I will have to go in there and face both Mulder and Scully. Scully will tell Mulder about our efforts to find him. She'll make it sound like I did more than I did. I'll have to accept Mulder's gratitude, and Scully's, and I will never be able to tell either of them the truth. But there's something more important to do right now. Doggett is staring at the floor again, his paper coffee cup crushed in his hands. I stand up. "Come on, Agent Doggett, I'll buy you a drink." He looks up and nods. Without another word we walk out of that damned waiting room. We pass by Mulder's room on the way out. I lag behind Agent Doggett a bit to look in on them. The door is slightly ajar, and the lights are dim. But I can see them just fine. Scully is resting her head on Mulder's chest, her hand clutching his. His head is tilted toward her, and his lips are just brushing the top of her head. Both their faces have a softness, a peacefulness, I have never seen in them. They seem to be breathing in unison. I feel the weight on me shift and lighten just the barest bit as I watch them. Then I turn to catch up with Agent Doggett. end. ===== "Do you know...do you have any idea what we've been through?" "Only what I see in your face."