Chapter Two
Dana Scully lay on the forest floor in darkness and in pain. Fatigue crept up on her and she permitted her thoughts to fuzz in and out. Concerned for her injured ankle, she reached down and carefully unzipped her boot to help alleviate pressure, and she tucked her knees up inside her lined trench coat, which seemed to be doing a poorer and poorer job of helping her retain heat as time drained by. She thought she might have heard a noise from somewhere else in the woods, but she reasoned it must be a small animal, although it somehow sounded human. She laid her head on her elbow and allowed loose strands of her hair to comingle with leaves on the ground. The fight she had with Mulder took place just a few days ago, and was the largest contributing factor in her decision to work this case alone. So Mulder didn't trust Doggett. That wasn't new, but what she couldn't figure out was why it bothered her so much.
'It's because you know John is a good man and a good agent, and it bothers you that someone close to you harbors such a profound misconception of him,' she thought to herself.
'Yes, but that's not all there is to it,' nagged another little voice as the wind started to pick up suddenly around her. Fear flickered and her eyes sprang open, weary of more sourceless lights, sounds, and olfactory hallucinations. A feeling of dread pricked at her and although she was armed, she felt utterly defenseless. Bullets only worked on the corporal. She knew before she found it that there would be a light again; it appeared as a speck in the distance. She watched it. And she heard a noise again. A voice. A human voice. A raised, raspy voice.
"Agent Scully!" she heard him cry from far away and a warmth spread over her as if she had just stepped into a hot shower.
"I'm here!" She called as loudly as her recently unused voice would allow. Forgetting her ankle, she tried to stand but collapsed and yelped in pain.
"Dana! Where are you? Talk to me!" She heard him shout over the distance and she answered him back until he found her and he dropped to a knee beside her, using his flashlight to examine her. His voice was edged with a velvet whine and he placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Are you ok? Where are you hurt? What happened?"
"I fell. There was a ledge, I didn't see it."
"How many times do I have to tell you to get one'a these," he muttered, indicating his flashlight which her held on her lower leg while Scully pulled her pant cuff up so she could examine it properly. It was swollen.
"Is it ok?" He asked while he reached out and ran his fingers over the injury with the lightest of touches. "Is it broken?"
"I don't think so, just sprained. And it's pink which is a good sign. How did you find me?"
"Luck's been with me. I got a fast flight out, met with the Sherriff. I called him right after we spoke and your call dropped, what happened? " he asked, and even in the dim glow of the flashlight she could see the concern in his eyes. "You said there was somethin' to this case?"
"My phone went dead, and yes, there is something strange about these woods. I saw lights and I smelled blood, I heard noises…"
The bizarre events of hours past seemed like a lifetime ago, and she had difficulty explaining them to Doggett with any real conviction. Under the best circumstances, it was hard to convince him to be open to extreme possibilities, but she had no evidence and no explanations ready.
"You sure it wasn't flashlights? It is hunting season, maybe you smelled the residual odor from somebody's new ten point buck."
"I don't know, I can't explain it, not yet."
"Alright. I'm gonna call the Sherriff, let know I found you." He stood, pulled out his cell and slowed. "It's dead. Now that's the damnedest thing, I just charged it this morning."
She hoped that in the low light he missed the subtle roll of her eyes. What would it take to make him believe?
"Okay," he said, collecting himself. He conspiratorially dropped again to his knees beside her. "The Sherriff and his men were looking in a completely different direction; it's unlikely that they'll find us anytime soon. We're a couple of miles out, and with your ankle in the state it's in I don't think we'd get that far. Looks like we're here for tonight. You don't camp much, do you Dana?"
She grinned wryly as a response. They had agreed a few months ago to call each other by their first names when they were outside of the FBI.
"You look cold" he said with the austere kindness that she was accustomed to from him. "Let me see if I can get a fire going." He took off his long coat and draped it over her petite frame, rolled up his sleeves and set to work gathering twigs and branches. In his search he found a small stump.
"Hey doc, aren't you supposed to elevate a sprain?"
"You are, but I didn't have anything to use."
"There's a stump over here, 'bout seven inches tall, you think that could work?"
"Yeah, actually, that sounds perfect," she said, surprised but pleased. She tried to get on her knees but Doggett appeared next to her protesting.
"No, no no, don't. Let me help." He uttered gingerly and scooped her up with ease and carefully deposited her so she could rest her ankle on the stump.
"Thank you," she muttered, slightly abashed. She mused that if it had been Mulder, the most he would have done was help her crawl.
"Anytime." As he worked, the stark silence of the woods she had known vanished and was replaced with the gentle hum of his labor. Within minutes, he was successful in building a small campfire. Scully warmed her hands and took in the cheery light it afforded. The blackness of the woods ebbed away as Doggett patiently stoked the flames, gradually adding kindling. Pine needles in varying degrees of dryness popped and sparked, emitting an almost homey aroma. He carved out a trench around the fire so it wouldn't spread. When he was satisfied with his work he sat down beside her.
"Here, John, take your coat back, you must be cold." She tried to pull it off her but he wouldn't hear of it.
"It's not that cold, I actually feel pretty warm. What about you, when was the last time you ate? Here, I gotta bag in here somewhere…" He reached under the displaced jacket and produced a bag from which he withdrew several granola bars and a large bottle of water. He handed them to her and rearranged the coat smoothly over her body.
The appearance of Doggett had driven hunger out of her mind, and at the sight of food it returned full force. She tried to eat slowly and she thanked him in between bites. She was so consumed with the honeyed oats that it took a while for her to notice John's silence. She chewed carefully and considered what was on his mind, somewhat distracted still by the deliciousness of her makeshift meal and the warmth coming off his bare forearms; he was sitting just close enough for it to register. When he spoke his voice was so quiet that at first she wasn't sure if he was speaking at all, but his words were clear and she caught every one.
"I thought you learned your lesson back in Utah. I was really worried about you, you know."
"I know. I'm sorry." She felt again like an errant child.
He shrugged. "It's at least partly my fault. I should know by now not to let you outta my sight. You get in way too much trouble. How'd you manage to get lost out here, anyway?"
"I'm not sure how it happened. I was out here working on the case, and I lost track of time. I was looking for anything out of the ordinary, and I guess I didn't notice that the sun was going down."
"Yeah? Sounds to me like you came out here alone to think and got a little lost in your thoughts."
She was silent. Doggett had the annoying habit of being keenly perceptive and abundantly honest.
"Okay. If you know me so well, what was I out here thinking about?"
"Well the X-Files office has seemed a little crowded lately, don't you think?"
"If it has, what is your solution to that problem?"
"I'm not sayin' I have one. I'm not even saying it's a problem."
"If you're referring to Mulder's lack of trust in you, I hardly feel I even have to say it, but you know I don't share his feelings or his doubts," she said seriously.
"I know that Dana, and I appreciate it. But I've been doing some thinkin' too, about the future of the X-Files. You know that promotion that Kersh offered me? Well, it's still on the table."
The recently consumed granola bars swam unpleasantly in her stomach, and her ankle gave a sudden throb. She didn't make a sound, but pain flitted briefly across her face. He noticed.
"There's some acetaminophen in my bag, here. Sorry, I shoulda thought about it earlier." He looked furious with himself.
"You're thinking about leaving the X-Files?" She managed to articulate after choking down some pain pills.
AN- Sorry about the wait for this chapter, not sorry about minor cliffhanger because I don't have a problem being evil for literary effect. Review, if you please, it would make my day. One more chapter coming.
