Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters in this story nor do I own
the concepts of XF, just borrowing them for awhile. Chloe I do own and
believe me, you wouldn't want her, that girl is a handful!

Category: AU

Keywords: Post Ep, OC, Skinner/Other mentioned, Doggettfic, DUA,

Spoilers: Season 9 up to Trust No One.

Author's note: The title comes from the Duncan Sheik song "Barely
Breathing".

Also, in this fic, I put forward a couple controversial ideas. One of which
(the PPD one) was not one born of my brain. It belongs two a couple dear
friends who shared it with the SHODDs mailing list (waves at said
nameless friends) The second concept (the source of the emails) is my own
interpretation of Trust No 1. An ep in which, in my opinion, some damn
stupid risks were taken. Ones completely out of line with who the characters
have presented themselves to be. (Yep. I mean Scully *G*. Correction. Dana.
Think Chris Carter'd bring Scully back if we asked real nice? *grin*)

Thus, on with the fic!


Worth The Price
by M.
----------

The knock on his door surprised John Doggett but seeing who was standing on
the other side surprised him even more.

"Chloe?"

The redheaded profiler flashed a smile at him from beneath her umbrella.
"Hey John, sorry to just show up like this but . . . " She sighed. "It's
about Dana . . . I just . . . " Another sigh. "Nevermind."

Before she could leave, he reached out and caught her arm. "Wanna cup of
coffee? You look like an icicle."

Looking back at him, she lowered the umbrella and smiled gratefully. "I've
love one."

---

"So . . . " He spoke slowly as he dumped coffee into the percolator. "What's
got you so flustered?"

"You mean what could be wrong with Dana that I'd drive out here in the
pouring rain without calling first then nearly lose my nerve and leave
again?" She pulled her hair free of its ponytail, shaking out the raindrops.
"It's a few things actually . . . I . . . I didn't want to dump this on
Walter. Not yet. Not until I've put the pieces together . . . " She lowered
her gaze to the counter before her. "Which is why I came here."

He turned to look at her, watching as her hands traced patterns on the
smooth surface. "Chlo?"

She jumped, her gaze lifting to his. "Yeah?"

"Can't help you if you don't tell me."

She flushed and straightened. "Sorry . . . it's just . . . I hate living
this way sometimes."

"This way?"

"Knowing that sometimes, when something goes bump in the night, that there
actually may be a monster there. That there are factions in the government
that truly can't be trusted, that the boogeyman really does exist only he
looks like any other guy and might be the one flipping your burgers." Chloe
shuddered out a sigh. "I'm not good with paranoia. I never really was. But
being a friend of Fox Mulder meant it was a part of life." She smiled
faintly. "I mean, when my fiancé died . . . Mike . . . I actually wondered
if it wasn't *them* trying to hurt me or get to me somehow." A shake of her
head. "It changed how I look at everything . . . "

"And you're wondering if whatever you think's wrong with Dana might be your
own paranoia?" John leaned back against the other counter, folding his arms
across his lean torso before shaking his head. "No, I don't buy it. You've
got a healthy dose of paranoia yeah, but around this stuff, it's like you
said, expected. If you're worried about Scully, I'm willing to bet there's a
damn good reason for it."

The redhead mustered up another grateful smile. "Thanks."

A small smile formed on his face. "No problem."

There was a long pause then she grinned sheepishly. "I should talk or
something, huh?"

"It'd be a help: my mind readin' skills ain't what they used to be."

She snickered then stepped away from the counter, she had a habit of pacing
when she was talking and this was no different. "Dana's been acting
strange."

"Tell me about it." Doggett muttered, watching her move.

Stopping in her tracks, the other FBI agent gave him a look then continued
to speak. "You haven't seen her with the baby as much as I have and . . .
well . . . she's stiff with him."

"Stiff?"

"Yeah, stilted. Like she doesn't know what to do. Like she's afraid picking
him up will hurt him . . . not to mention, she's concerned that something's
.. . . wrong with him." She frowned deeply, concerned. "There's a lot more
to it than that obviously, I've observed a lot of symptoms and they really
do add up to . . . I mean it's definitely a possibility though, it could be
.. . . "

"Chloe!"

John's firm voice interrupted her monologue and she turned to face him,
seemingly started by the interruption like she'd forgotten he was there.
Which, knowing her, was entirely possible.

"I think she might have a mild case of Post Partum . . . "

He frowned deeply and took a step forward. "As in depression?" Her head
bobbed in a quick nod and that seemed to make his frown deepen. "You're
sure?"

"Well, I'm not an expert in it. You don't often see it entering the
forensic area; though it's happened a few times." She forced a hand through
her loose curls and returned to the counter. "If you're asking for a
professional opinion, I'd feel more comfortable having someone experienced
in diagnosing and treating the condition examine her. But, my instincts tell
me it's a very strong possibility."

"Have you talked about this with her?"

The redhead shook her head. "No. Dana's not going to take kindly to this. If
she does have Post Partum, her judgement could be impaired and me bringing
this to her? She'll freak. Her emotions have been out of whack lately and
this is guaranteed to throw them out even more . . . " She sighed, leaning
her forearms on the counter. "I'd like to have more support when I do."

"What about her mother?"

"I plan on talking to her but . . . " She shrugged. "I came here first."

Somewhere in the back of his mind the fact her instinctive reaction was to
talk to him registered and responded with a surge of affection for the
woman, he'd come to see her as a kid sister, but at that moment, his
attention was focused elsewhere. "I'm no expert on this stuff either but I'
ve learned your instincts are usually damn close if not spot on . . . "

The scent of the perked coffee that had been wafting around them finally
drew him back to the machine. He poured them both a cup then nudged the
cream and sugar closer to Chloe, who added liberal amounts of both to the
steaming liquid. "How bad a case do you think she could have?"

"As far as I can tell? Mild." She sighed. "I'm praying its mild . . . "

"And if it's not?" He held his cup in one hand, clutching it tightly, as she
looked down into hers; avoiding his gaze. "Chloe . . . what if it's not?"

"If it's not? Some Post Partum mothers have become suicidal . . . others act
out against the child . . . "

"Like that woman down in Texas . . . murdered her kids?"

"Yeah, like that." Seeing the worry in his eyes, she hurried to dismiss the
concern. "I really don't think it's that bad John. If it was, she'd've shown
more signs than what she'd had. Maggie would have noticed for sure. You don'
t need a psychology degree to recognize the symptoms."

He accepted that with a nod then noticed something. She was fidgeting again.
Her fingers were playing with the handle of the cup, tracing patterns up and
down the ceramic, running down across the counter as if playing some unknown
symphony. "Chlo' . . . "

"Yes?" She dragged out the word, not looking up.

John put the coffee aside and reached out to put a finger beneath her chin,
lifting her face up. "Chloe? What is it?"

"Dana says she's been . . . " The profiler bit her lip hesitantly then
blurted it out. "Been in contact with Mulder via email." A surge of guilt
raced through her at the internal flinch she saw in the lean man's piercing
blue eyes. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve what he'd been put
through in the last year nor did he deserve everything that was being heaped
upon him now. She and Dana didn't disagree often but they'd had a few over
John Doggett.

Once Chloe Alexander sided with someone she became their champion and fought
to the end. She'd done it more times than she could count with Fox, and a
few times with Dana. She'd argued tooth and nail with Walter a few times, a
fact he now teased her about relentlessly, and one big blow out with Deputy
Director Kersh. He hadn't been the Deputy then though. She knew with her
arrest record she had a great deal more leniency than some agents but she
wouldn't push it that far. She wasn't irreplaceable and she knew it.

But when she thought she had a fight she went for it.

"Regular contact." He muttered darkly, turning away from the woman before
him and forcing down the irrational anger. He'd suspected that Dana had the
means to speak with Mulder if needs be but he hadn't thought they'd actually
been conversing regularly. It was his fault, he knew, for believing that
they'd save it as an emergency measure. His fault . . .

His hands gripped the counter tightly, his knuckles white, and he lowered
his head. "How?" Silently he prayed the Lone Gunmen were behind it. That the
boys were protecting every communication that they wouldn't have been so
stupid as to . . .

"She's got an online account. She visits a cyber cafe to check it. According
to her, Mulder's doing the same thing."

Shit.

He growled in frustration. "Does she have any idea . . . " He shook his head
almost viciously. "She should know better Chlo'. That's *damn* stupid! She'd
be safer contactin' him from her home computer, hell she'd be better off
emailin' him from Quantico!"

"I don't think it's him." The profiler dropped her bombshell quietly and he
turned slowly, incredulous eyes meeting hers.

"What?"

"I don't think it's him." Chloe repeated softly.

"What makes you think that?"

"She told me about the emails after . . . " She sighed. "After the near miss
with 'Mulder' and that Super Soldier." She lifted her cup to her lips,
deliberately taking longer to drink than usual. She needed the time to
compose her thoughts. "I wanted to know what he'd said to her on the phone.
What had convinced her of his validity." Her teeth worried at her bottom lip
for a moment. "She told me that he'd told her he knew about the emails,
where she'd been sending them from and even what they said. When I wanted to
know more, she showed them to me."

She pushed herself to her feet and pulled folded papers out of the pocket of
her jeans. "I read them very carefully John. I read them several times. Over
and over. I made copies so I could think it over, compare them to emails he'
d sent me. The tone is different but you'd expect that considering who he
was sending them too . . . " She placed the papers on the counter and then
looked up at him. "But when I read them . . . I can't convince myself their
author was Fox Mulder. I've tried to; I really have. I've lost sleep arguing
with myself over this." She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze again, her
thick hair falling around her face, hiding it. "But whoever wrote those
emails isn't the man I've known for the past decade. I can't believe that it
's him. As a psychologist or as his friend."

Doggett looked at the folded papers as if he were staring at a poisonous
snake. Everything in him told him it was wrong to read them. Chloe had been
given the permission to read them. She'd been allowed. He suspected that if
Dana had known she would bring them to him, Chloe Alexander would have been
very swiftly shut out of the 'inner circle' that Scully had surrounded
herself with.

But he had no choice. After Mulder had returned, John'd promised himself
that he would never slack in his vigilance over her safety. No matter what.

Well, no matter what was now staring him in the face.

"Have you talked to the boys?" He questioned bluntly, his hand resting on
the papers.

"I called Byers this morning." She confessed. "I told him what cafe and what
computer. They promise they're going to check it out."

His gaze bored into hers and she nodded. "Yes, I asked him not to tell her."


Chloe's green eyes grew suspiciously damp and she paced away, shoving her
hands into the pockets of her jeans. "I can't believe I'm doing this to
her." She whispered painfully. "I promised . . . I promised Fox I'd be
there for her. I promised I'd look out for her. I promised . . . "

"You are lookin' out for her, Chlo'," He argued earnestly. "You'd be
negligent if you hadn't followed up on this. You're the only one who was as
close to Mulder as Dana. You've known him longer. You're the only one who
could have noticed this. She's not thinking clearly when it comes t'Mulder
and we both know it."

"I just . . . " She sniffed. "I wish it was him. I wish, just this one, they
had this." She turned. "But I . . . I know it's not. None of this is right,
John. None of it." She thumped a fist against the wall. "Krycek was right."

He raised an eyebrow at her and waited.

"He told me once . . . He told me I was like Cassandra of Troy." She slid
down the wall to sit on the floor, resting her head back against the
paneling. "I'm in the midst of it all and I can't stop any of it. I see it
happening but in the end, no matter what I do . . . they always end up in
shambles."

"Not this time." John promised, crouching next to her with the emails in
hand. "Not this time."

Finis