It was that dream again, the one about the filing system. Only this time he was naked.
But nobody else seemed to mind, so John just tucked himself as close to the podium as possible and continued.
"Monsters are hard, because, you know, they're monsters. Ones made in the lab, they go under "G", for "genetic experimentation – living specimens", but the other ones, I mean, there's no store-bought tab for man-bats." He chuckled weakly at his own joke.
The entire room stared back.
Then something grabbed his foot and he woke up with a squeaky cry of, "man-bats!"
"What?"
"What –" He sat up, too fast, making himself dizzy. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was.
Skinner's bedroom.
He felt the memory wash over him.
The cold of the door against his back, Walter on his knees in front of him. The warm of the bed and Skinner's body over his, hands and mouths touching, kissing everything they could reach.
It had been unbelievable.
John reached out to the pillow next to his but it was cool to the touch. It was then he realized Skinner was standing at the end of the bed, wearing sleep shorts and a look that very clearly read, and they trust you with a gun?
"I was dreaming about Mulder's filing system," he blurted out.
Skinner's look became, if possible, even more perplexed.
"Not about Mulder – definitely not about Mulder, not that way – but that damn filing system. I dream about it, that I'm giving a speech trying to explain it to people."
"You dream…about filing systems." Skinner's lip twitched. "About giving a speech…about filing systems."
"Not systems, just that one," John said petulantly. "I mean, it's pretty complex."
Skinner snorted and sits, and John realized he must have been in the chair by the window for some time.
"You dream about this a lot?"
"Just when I'm… out of sorts. Confused about things."
Skinner's face became, if not serious, then weary. "Are you confused about this, John?"
John sat up straighter. "If you're asking if I regret this, Walter, the answer is no. But I'm not the one sitting all the way over there." He paused, not really sure if he wanted to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. "Do you regret it?"
Skinner was silent for an uncomfortably long time, long enough for the dread to start to pool in Doggett's gut. Maybe he had pushed too hard, made Skinner do something he was now wishing he could take back. But then Skinner spoke.
"No. Not regret. We'd been dancing around it for far too long as it was." He smiled. "I should be thanking you for forcing me to get my head out of my ass."
The relief was cold in Doggett's veins. "Yeah, well, we both benefited from that one," he joked weakly.
Skinner chuckled, but went quiet again. Doggett huffed.
"Damn it, Walter. Spit it out."
Skinner gave him an AD side eye, its effect tempered by his near nakedness. Then he sighed.
"You were right before." His voice was quiet. "I am scared."
The distance between them felt too great and Doggett slid down to the end of the bed to be closer. "Of us?"
"For us. For you, John. We've know each other for two years and you've already seen how insane this damn department can be. It's not…normal. There's been…ramifications. Personal ramifications. For all of us."
That quieted John, as he thought about pulling Mulder out of that grave, Billy Miles going over the roof, rushing Scully into Monica's car, the address for a tiny Georgia town in her hand. "Yeah. Okay, I can understand that."
"I'm scared someone's going to use…whatever this is, against us. That you're going to get hurt because someone's trying to get to me." Skinner finally looked away from the window to Doggett. "John, I don't even know if you're safe from me."
Doggett's eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Skinner groans and rubs his face, like he can't believe he ever got himself into this situation. "I was…infected with something."
John's jaw drops open. "Are we having an STD talk right now?"
"Oh for the love of – no, John," Skinner hollered. "I am not some teenage with the clap! This is serious!"
Doggett started to protest back, that he was just trying to help, but realized his getting more worked up was not helping the situation. "Okay. All right. So no to an STD. Than what, Walter?"
Skinner just stared at his hands.
"Walter."
"I'm – I'm trying to figure out where to beginning," Skinner said weakly. "John, this isn't…I've never told anybody this before. It's…God, embarrassing doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm…ashamed of it. Of myself."
John's breath caught in his chest at the pain in Skinner's voice. "Oh, Walter." He slid down off the bed to kneel in between Skinner's knees and reached up to cup Skinner's face. Skinner leaned into the touch, eyes closed, and for a moment, they were quiet. Doggett bit his lip.
"I don't know what to say," he admitted softly. "Except I know you, Walter, and you are a good man. Whatever you have to say…that won't change."
Skinner's eyes squeeze tighter shut, and he makes a pained noise that made John want to kiss the hurt away, so he did.
"You can tell me," he whispered.
It's quiet for a long moment, then Skinner sighs. "It was almost three years ago now. I was boxing. Things got a little fuzzy and I got tagged, hard, hard enough to end up at the ER. The doc dismissed me but I realized I wasn't in any shape to be driving far so I went to the office to sleep it off. And who was there but Mulder."
Doggett snorted softly. "Of course."
"Yeah, well. He saw I was in bad shape and called Scully. The bruise from the punch…it was growing at an alarming rate. We tried to investigate and…well, long story short, it wasn't a bruise. It was…" Skinner looked away, eyes unfocused. "I had been infected with a nanotechnology. Something designed to build walls of carbon in my arteries and veins, stopping blood flow. Mulder and Scully were still investigating, and had figured out that someone had followed me into the building and infected me with a simple touch. But the doctors had no idea what to do about it, and within 24 hours, they were calling time of death. I was dead." He let out an uneasy breath. "And then I wasn't."
The thought of Walter, cold and still under a white sheet, chilled John down to the bone, and he slipped his hand in Walter's and squeezed just to feel the warmth, the faint heartbeat under the skin. "What happened?"
"The carbon broke down just as fast as it had formed. The doctors were at a loss but as far as they could see I was healthy again, so they released me. I went out to my car and…" He swallowed thickly. "He was waiting for me."
"Who was?" John tried to keep his voice steady, keep the rage down.
"Alex Krycek." The name came out like a swear word. "He was controlling the technology with this little device, like a palm pilot. All it took was a quick push of a button and I'd be on the floor. Told me he'd be in contact. When he…when he needed something from me."
John's free hand clenched up in a fist and he bit down hard, hard enough to taste blood, to keep from punching the wall. He didn't care Krycek was dead, he wanted to dig him up and kill him again, punish him over and over for hurting Skinner like that. For knowing the shame of it would do far more damage than the pain.
Walter's hand slid through his hair and stilled at the base of his neck, a calming touch.
"Did he…" John didn't want to know but he had to ask. "Did he ever force you to do anything…" He can't get the word out.
"Sexual?" Skinner supplied. "No." John let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "No, it was strictly business. Small favors I guess, that I wasn't his type."
They went quiet for a minute, John trying to wrap his mind around the story, Walter trying to believe he'd told it. Then something occurred to John.
"The hospital," he said. "When I found you pulling Mulder off life-support. He was using them on you then, forcing you to choose."
Walter exhaled. "Yeah."
"Shit." John laid his head down on Walter's thigh. "I'm sorry, Walter."
Skinner's head stroked his hair absently. "You want to know what the worst part is?"
No, John wanted to say. "What?"
"That I don't know who's worse, him for trying to control me, or me for executing him in cold blood."
Doggett sat up straight. "What – what the hell are you talking about? He was about to kill Mulder!"
"He was incapacitated. I took out his knee and his good arm and he was surrendering." Walter's voice was flat. "I was supposed to cuff him and bring him in to face justice. Instead I put a bullet in his head in the name of my own vengeance."
"And if I thought for one second he would face justice, I would agree with you," Doggett rejoined. "But we both know that he had too many friends in high places and he would have just walked away and went back to his old life. Normal rules don't apply to men like Alex Krycek, Walter. You were right to end him."
Skinner looked hopeful but more than a little lost, so John kissed his thigh again. "He's gone, Walter. He can't threaten you anymore."
"But whoever made the technology isn't. Krycek may have been a lot of things, but a scientist wasn't one of them."
"Are they still…alive, active, whatever they would call it?"
"There is no discernable trace of them in my blood," Skinner said. "But it's not like they can run a test for this sort of thing. I don't know if they are gone, or just dormant. And I don't know if they're confined to my blood. If they can travel…elsewhere. John, if I were to infect you somehow…"
A moment floated up from John's memory, of Walter pushing his hand away just before he came, suddenly nervous. "That's why you think I'm not safe from you."
Skinner sighs. "Yes. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened."
"But you don't even know if it's possible. I mean, all evidence would point to it – them – being confined to your blood. And to them being gone."
"All the evidence we have, yes," Skinner argued. "Which amounts to about jack shit."
John wanted to argue the point, but realized it was futile, that Skinner was right in his concern that they could not truly know one way or another. "Okay. Fine. Let's presume the worst, that it is transmittable. We can be careful. Treat it like a regular old STD." Skinner looked unconvinced. "Walter, we'll deal with it. It's worth the effort. You're worth the effort."
"I…" Skinner's eyes drifted shut and his head hung down, tired. "I want to believe you, John."
"Yeah, well." He kissed the skin under his cheek. "Until you can, I'll believe for both of us."
Skinner's "Oh, John," was like an awed sigh, and then John was being dragged up off his knees and onto the bed. Walter's mouth was hot and insistent and John opened up immediately beneath him, spreading his legs to allow Walter to lie between them. John hooked his leg over Walter's hip, pulling him in closer, at the same time Walter canted his hips down, and the sensation caused something bright to flash in John's brain. Then Walter was murmuring his name and pulling away, pushing up on his hands to look down at John. He reached up to pull Walter back down but Skinner caught his hand and pushed it back down.
"There's one more thing I have to tell you. In the interest of full disclosure."
John's heart sunk a little. "What?"
Walter stroked John's cheek, his jaw. "I think..." He swallowed hard. "I think I may be falling in love with you."
John blinked.
Oh.
Walter Skinner, falling in love. With him.
OH.
"Is that - John, is that okay - I didn't mean -"
"OH -" John realized he'd just been staring at the man like a dying quail so he kissed him, and kissed him again. "Yes, God yes, it's okay." Kissed him again and grinned. "More than okay."
"Jesus, John," Walter gasps, and dropped his head down to John's chest. "We need to work on your response times. I'm not going to make it if you keep doing this to me."
"I'm sorry," John laughed, clutching at Walter's shoulders, his back. "I'm sorry. It's been kind of a weird night."
He felt Walter's chuckle against his skin. "I suppose it has."
"It has." He tilted Walter's head up, looked into those dark eyes, usually so unreadable, vulnerable before him. He stroked Walter's lips, and Walter kissed back against his fingers. "I guess I couldn't believe I wasn't the only one who felt that way."
A moment of shock, and then a blinding smile as any remaining tension drained out of Walter's face.
Yep, John thought. Definitely worth the effort.
