Title: The Doggett/Scully Files: The Beginning of the End

Chapter: 1/?

Author: Cerasi J.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: What happens just before Scully gets the call about Mulder's verdict? First part of a series.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files charactors, blah, blah, blah… CC makes all the money, blah, blah, blah…

Author's Note: I have changed a few scenes, names, dates, places etc so the charactors would fit better into the story line, sorry for any confusion!!! ^_^;

~*~*~

Dana Scully residence

Georgetown, Virginia

11:01 p.m.

Special Agent John Doggett sat at Dana Scully's kitchen table; his elbows rested on it's shiny surface, his head in his hands, his mind racing with thoughts of Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and the fact that he hadn't paid his electric bill this month.

His partner of two years, Monica Reyes, sat beside him, the same worries bouncing in her mind, (save for the electric bill). Gibson Praise, the wonder boy, sat across from John, a worried look upon his face.

Gibson pushed his glasses back up onto his nose, he looked at Monica, blinked and yawned. She caught him out of the corner of her eye, and yawned herself.

John looked across the room at Scully, who was sitting nervously on the couch, awaiting the phone call from A.D. Skinner. Monica sighed, shifted in her seat and followed John's gaze to the back of Dana's head. I wonder how much longer it's going to be, Monica thought.

Gibson cleared his throat and asked in a low voice, "What do you think the verdict will be?"

Scully turned her head, Gibson's words capturing her attention. Monica shook her head sadly, "I don't have any idea."

John frowned, worried, "Me either, kid. We can only hope for the best."

Hearing nothing of interest, Scully turned her head so she was staring at the wall again.

Monica looked uncomfortable, she leaned over and whispered to John, "Should we try to do something for Dana?" John looked at Monica with an I don't know expression.

She looked as tired and worn-down as he felt, "I feel so bad," he whispered, so only Monica could hear, "I don't know what to do for her…"

Gibson shifted in his chair, "I'm hungry." He stood, stretching, "I'm gonna run down to the corner deli-…"

Both agents turned to look at Gibson and answered at the same time, "No!" He looked startled, held up his hands, and sat back down "All right, all right!"

John leaned back in his chair, running his hands over his face, sighing. Scully cleared her throat, stood up and walked to the table, "You guys can order pizza if you want," she said.

All three of them looked down at the table, they were all tired and hungry, but no one was in the mood to eat. Dana crossed the kitchen, went into the hallway and snuck to the room where her son used to sleep.

She opened the door, slipped in and quietly shut it behind her. Slowly, she walked toward his crib, which was now in the corner of the room, covered with a sheet.

Sighing softly, she lifted the sheet from the crib and extracted a soft, brown teddy bear. Tears gathering in her eyes, she held the bear to her chest, then her face, feeling the soft fur on her cheeks.

She was unable to stop her tears, they flew from her eyes one after another. So much had been taken from her… first her health, her family, the man she loved dearly and now her son.

Oh William, she thought, Where are you now? What are you doing? Have you taken your first steps yet? Burying her face in the bear's soft fur she sobbed quietly and said, "Oh William… oh, my baby, why did I ever leave you? Why, why, why?!"

She sobbed again, Dana sometimes felt like the whole world was against her, felt like everyone and everything wanted her dead, even those closest to her, Doggett, Reyes, Skinner… all of them.

Wiping her eyes on her shirt sleeve and sniffling, she kissed the fuzzy bear on the nose and placed him back in the now empty crib, Monica had given William that bear when she arrived home.

Dana had hoped William would be old enough to play with that bear some day… but that hope was gone now.

Pulling the sheet over the crib, she exited her son's room and went into her own. She walked into the bathroom where she wiped her tears away with a damp cloth.

Taking a few minutes to compose herself, Dana then left her room and went to sit on the couch to await A.D. Skinner's call.

11:37 p.m.

It was nearly midnight by the time Skinner called, Gibson was nodding off, John was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, and Monica looked like she could use a cup of coffee.

Scully had been sitting on the couch, staring at the wall for the last half-hour, thinking that when she heard that phone ring, she'd run right toward it and she'd hear Mulder was being released and everything would be okay.

At 11:40 exactly, the phone rang. Gibson's head snapped up, John's eyes flew open, but Scully didn't budge. The phone rang once. Twice. John stood, wondering if Scully would answer it.

Three times.

He walked slowly toward the living room, praying that Mulder was going to be okay, John didn't know Mulder that well, but he understood what it was like to lose something so precious.

By the forth ring, John had picked up the reciver. His heart racing, he answered, "Hello?"

He had his back turned to everyone, but he could feel everyone's eyes upon him.

Skinner's voice was on the other side of the line, he sighed once, and said simply, "Death. By lethal injection," Skinner's voice cracked, he sounded like he was on the brink of tears, "Tell Agent Scully I'm sorry... I did everything I could."

John nodded, then realized Skinner couldn't see him nod, "Thank you, sir." John hung up the phone, blood rushed wildly in his ears, he turned to Scully, who was watching him with expectant eyes.

Doggett sighed and looked across the room at Monica and Gibson, who were both watching him with the same expression that Scully wore. John cleared his throat, "Death. By lethal injection."

Monica gasped, Gibson sank back into his chair, his eyes filling with tears. Dana's eyes searched John's face, looking for signs that he was joking, trying to fool them all in some elaborate way. She saw nothing.

Scully sank back against the couch, despair and hopelessness filling every inch of her being, tears rushed to her eyes and brimed over. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. John, now feeling guilty, stammered, "Skinner said he-... he did everything he could."

Monica stood and walked toward John, she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly, she whispered, "We know, he did his best." Releasing John's shoulder, Monica sat next to Dana and embraced her friend. Dana clung to Monica, "I just found him," she sobbed in Monica's ear, "Now I'm going to lose him again."

Monica hugged her fiercely, she wanted to reassure Scully that everything was going to be all right, but she knew she couldn't tell Dana that, because they all knew it was a lie.

Gibson wandered over, and sat on the other side of Scully. Tears running from his eyes, he put his arms around both Dana and Monica, hugging them both.

John, now feeling uncomfortable and out of place, mumbled that he was going to get some air and would be right back. He slipped quietly out Scully's front door, and headed down the fire stairs to the street where his truck was parked.

When he reached the outside of the apartment building, he sat on the concrete steps leading into the building.

Sighing heavily, he put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. It was chilly tonight, John could see his breath, but it didn't matter anymore, nothing did. He had worked so hard to find Mulder these past two years, and for what? Nothing… nothing at all.

Mulder would never get to see the finer things in life now… he'd never see his son grow up, he'd never get to see his son's firsts…

John leaned against the railing, and thought about hanging it all up. Giving up his badge and his gun, moving back to New York and simply living.

He wouldn't have to think about Mulder and Scully and the killer aliens after them all… he could worry about silly things, like paying his electric bill on time.

"Hey," a voice said suddenly, "smile, the world ain't that bad." John glanced up, and gasped at what he saw. He scampered to his feet, startled.

Standing before him, plain as day and big as life itself, were The Lone Gunmen.

Slack-jawed and bug-eyed, John gaped at them. Frohike raised an eyebrow at him, "What? You're acting like you've never talked to a dead guy before."

Attempting to regain control of himself, John replied, "Well. I haven't."

Langly, still wearing his infamous "Joey Lives" shirt, chuckled. "It's actually kinda fun, popping in suddenly and scaring people, I mean." He frowned and turned serious, "We hear Mulder's gonna be one of us soon." John looked at his feet, "Yeah… I know," Sighing, he sat down again, "I did everything I could… everything."

Byers spoke up, "There's still something you can do, Doggett."

Without looking up John said with all the sarcasm he could muster, "Heh. Like what? Send him a cake with a file inside?"

Byers continued, "Something like that, yes." Arching an eyebrow, John eyed the ghost men in front of him, "Oh? And what's that?"

Rolling his eyes, Frohike stepped forward, "Bust him out of prison, stupid!" Reaching out, he smacked John upside the head.

"Ow!" John's hand flew to the side of his head. He glared at the air where Frohike had just been standing, and saw nothing, save for an elderly woman, eyeing him closely. "You all right, sonny?"

She scrutinized John, "You were talking to yourself…" Puzzled by the sudden disappearance of The Lone Gunmen, he blinked and shrugged, "Yeah, I guess I was…"

Staying very close to the right side of the railing, she scrambled past him, into the apartment building. He watched her go inside, his eyes returned to The Lone Gunmen and he said cynically, "Thanks, now I've got some old lady thinkin' I'm a skitzo."

Langly, smiling sweetly, replied, "You're welcome."

Brushing past his two companions, Frohike sat beside John, "Okay. Listen to us. You and Scully have to get Mulder out of prison."

John said doubtfully, "And how do I go about doing that?"

"You can hack into the government computers and get the lay-out plans for the prison where Mulder is being held," Byers replied, he extended his arm and handed John two official looking government I.D. cards, neither with a name or a photo. "But, if you pull it off, you and Scully will be wanted criminals, you know that, don't you?"

John frowned, looking over the passcards, "What are these?"

"They're passcards with high access, they belong to the prison guards and such, it actually comes in handy being able to walk through walls," Langly informed him.

John raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Langly continued, "You'll have a time slot of about three minutes, can you and Scully get in and out that fast?"

"Yeah… I think so," John mulled over this statement for a moment, "What about Monica and Gibson?"

Byers sat beside Frohike, "Take them with you." John shook his head, "No. I won't do that, I'm not going to put Monica's life in danger like that."

"Ooh," Frohike raised an eyebrow suggestively, "I think Doggett has a crush." He elbowed John in the side, only to find that his elbow pasted right through John's side. He cleared his throat, looked uncomfortable for a moment, then continued, "Not that I can blame 'ya, Reyes is hot."

John glared at Frohike, "Watch it, pal. She's still my partner, you know." He turned to Byers, "So, tell me how to get to these lay-out plans… we don't have very much time."

The three men crowded around John, whispering. For the next ten minutes, Frohike, Byers and Langly gave John detailed instructions on how to break Mulder out of prison.

Filing all in the information into the back of his mind, John said, "Okay, then what should I do?"

All three of them thought for a moment, then Byers replied, "Well. If I were you, I'd hack the bank accounts of some senators and congressmen, take a few million here, a few million there… and send it around the world."

John's eyes grew wide, but Byers went on, "Then I'd change my name and get the hell out of Dodge…" Byers looked at his feet, "I mean… that's what I would do…"

Doggett thought on this for a minute, "And how would I go about doing that?"

Frohike blinked, "You? Mr. Always-gotta-be-by-the-books? Rob some congressmen and flee the country?" Frohike laughed out loud.

"No, really!" John protested, "If I'm gonna do this, break Mulder out, I mean, it won't be safe for anyone anymore… then I want out, everyone, me, Monica, Gibson…" He looked meaningfully at the Lone Gunmen, "Can you help me?"

They blinked, looked at each other and finally Langly said, "Okay, here's what you do…"

~*~*~

"… So, I rig the computers to go on timers, so at the exact same time we're busting Mulder out of prison, the money is being sent to, oh, say the Bahamas?"

Byers nodded, "Mm-mm. Then I'd get a fake passport, new name, new identity, and I'd fake my own death. Then I'd go to someplace where I would fit in… like England, or Australia."

Frohike nodded his agreement, Langly spoke up and said, "But take Reyes-…" John rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, she's hot, I know."

"Who's hot, John?"

Startled, he glanced over his shoulder at Monica, who was coming out of the building. "Uh…" He started, "Um, no one."

She grinned slyly and sat down beside him, Frohike was no longer there. "No, really, who?"

Shaking his head he replied, "It's nothing, Monica, listen, you and I… we need to talk…" John got to his feet, offered his hand to Monica, who took it, looking puzzled.

"What about, John?"

Still holding her hand, they walked across the street to his truck, where he opened the driver's side door for her, Monica scooted across to the passage's side.

John climbed in and shut the door. He was silent for a moment, then turned to Monica and said, "Listen, we've gotta help Mulder."

She cocked her head to the side and queried, "How?" John's face remained unreadable, "Well," he said, "We'll have to break him out."

"John!" Monica exclaimed, "Break him out?! We can't-…"

"How then, Monica?" His voice was sharp, "Just tell me how we save him and we'll do it your way."

She fell quiet, looking at her hands in her lap, she mumbled, "I don't know…"

Leaning over, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake, "Listen to me, okay? You have to listen."

"I'm listening, John." His hands still resting on her shoulders, he said, "Monica… if we, you and me and Scully, pull this off… we're gonna be dead men, you know that, right? Dead men walkin' the Green Mile, there will be no hope for us… so we have to hide."

"How?" She asked again.

"Well," John said thoughtfully, letting go of her shoulders, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a laptop computer. "This is how. I bought a remote modem the other day, so I can get online from anywhere."

Placing the computer between the steering wheel and his stomach, John turned it on and waited. He heard something move in the backseat, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, he saw, again, the spirits of the beloved Lone Gunman, all three waved at him without saying a word.

Eyes moving back to the computer screen, John informed Monica, "Don't look in the back seat."

She blinked, turned around to look… and promptly screamed.

Not looking up from the computer, John smirked and said, "I warned you." The Gunmen waved fondly at Moncia, "Hello Monica," Byers said. She stared at them, wide-eyed, her lips pressed in a thin, white line. "B-but," she finally managed, "You guys are dead!"

"So we've noticed," Frohike replied sarcastically.

John, looking up from his computer at last, said to the three ghosts in the backseat of his truck, "Uh, hey, guys can I have a word with Monica…?" All three raised their eyebrows, "Alone," John said through clenched teeth.

Langly shrugged and all three of them disappeared. Monica gaped. She shut her mouth and blinked at John, "Did you-…?"

"Yes."

"Did they-…?"

"Yes."

"Am I high?"

He smiled a bit, "Not that I know of." Turning to her he said, "Anyway…" He sighed, "I don't want you to help with this break out… I don't like the idea of putting your life in any sort of danger."

She started, but John held up his hand, "Let me finsh, Monica…" He grabbed her shoulders again, looking into her eyes, "Monica, please…" he was whispering now, "Out of all the things I've ever had… you're all I have left."

She didn't quite know how to respond to this, she blinked at him. He shook his head, and gave a soft chuckle, "I'm trying to be romantic here, work with me, okay?"

Smiling, Monica nodded. John continued, "I just don't want you to get hurt… you're everything to me now, if something where to happen to you…" He looked down, then looked at her again, "I dunno if I could forgive myself."

Monica looked at him sadly, "You'd move on, you always have."

"Not you, Monica. I couldn't just 'move on.'"

She was flattered, "John-I…"

"Look, you and me," he said, "We're a team, we're partners, we're in it together, all for one and one for all, right? If we break Mulder out and don't get caught, let's take this money, you and me, and we'll go someplace together, all right? Anywhere you want to go."

Monica grinned at him and was about to respond when they heard mock clapping from the back seat, "Wow John," Frohike said, laughing, "You should get a freakin' Oscar, man." John whipped around to face him, "I thought I told you to get lost!" He yelled.

"Fine," Frohike retored, "Don't need our help, see ya later…"

Sighing heavily, John said, "Never mind, Frohike. Let's just get it done with."

~*~*~

Thirty minutes later, the lay-out plans for the prison was saved to John's hard drive, and the computerized timers where in place. In exactly one hour one million dollars from five different bank accounts was going to be pulled and sent to the Cayman Islands.

With all the plans in place, The Lone Gunmen said their final goodbyes to John and Monica, and disappeared. John sighed, looking at the computer on his lap. He thought for a moment, then his fingers began flying over the keys, Monica looked over at the screen, "Now what are you doing?"

He looked up at her and grinned, "I'm paying my electric bill."

~*~*~

Back in the apartment, Scully was laying on the couch, tears still running down her cheeks. Gibson was in a chair across from her, snoring.

Her thoughts seemed slow, like there was a fog in her brain. All she could think of was, Mulder's going to die, Mulder's going to die.

Suddenly, the front door to her apartment flew open, John and Monica rushed in, "Scully," he said, "Get up."

Startled, she did as he said, she had completely forgotten they were here. "John-…" She stammered, "What are you doing?"

Shaking Gibson awake he replied, "Call Skinner. We're gettin' Mulder out."

To Be Continued…