Part 3
"By being honest?"
"Yes."
"Okay. What do you want to know?"
Geoffrey shook his head. "Not with me, with Monica."
"Monica is in a coma. How'm I supposed to even talk to her, let alone be honest with her?"
"I'll take you to her. But you'll have to be aware of some things, first."
"You're gonna take me to the hospital?"
"No. I'm going to take you to where she is."
"To the hospital." John persisted.
"That's where her *body* is. Her soul, or spirit, or whatever word you use these days to describe her life force, is elsewhere."
"I see. I'm sittin' here talkin' to a crazy man."
"Could you be any more obtuse? Monica is – never mind, you wouldn't believe it anyway. I'll just have to show you."
"Fine. Show me."
"Not here. We'd be exposed to too many people. Firstly, I'll wake Agent Scully. Then you'll have to let me go."
"I'm not lettin' you go!"
"Come on, John. It's not like you have a whole lot to hold me on. I could get a lawyer down here and I'd be out within minutes – you know this. But the longer we take, the longer Monica stays where she is."
John weighed up his options, before finally deciding. "I'll have you released into my care. But if you try to escape…"
"I won't."
"…If you try to escape I *will* find you. I promise you that."
The two men sized each other up, and Geoffrey was convinced that John was telling the absolute truth. He nodded, and moved across the table to clasp Scully's hands again.
"I need to be touching the subject." He said as way of an explanation. "You should be sitting where you were before I put her to sleep – she won't be aware of what has transpired. Oh, you should re-cuff me, too."
John leant over and slipped the cuffs back on him. "Now what?" he asked.
"Now I wake her." He took a hold of Scully's hands, and spoke one word. "Wake."
Her eyes flickered open, and she frowned in puzzlement as she noted Geoffrey's hands cuffed and sitting motionless in front of him. The frown deepened as she snatched her hands back and held them close to her body.
"I think we're done here." John said. "It's obvious he's not goin' ta tell us anythin' worthwhile. He's just wastin' our time."
Scully glared at the suspect and uttered a terse, "Fine." - knowing something was wrong, but not quite being able to put her finger on it.
"Get up." John ordered brusquely. He marched Geoffrey towards custody, leaving a bewildered Scully sitting in the interview room, trying to make sense of the ten-minute time discrepancy she had just noticed.
XxX
"Mo –ooom!"
Monica looked up from the book she was reading to see what the latest crisis was. The three kids, John and Coco were digging peacefully in the sand pit, making castles with semi-filled moats and generally keeping out of her hair. Well, they had been. Bella was standing indignantly with her hands on her hips, scowling down at JJ and Stephy, and Monica was half expecting smoke to come pouring from her ears at any minute.
"What is it, Bella?" She asked, repressing a grin.
She stormed through the yard and sat down with such force on the love seat Monica was sitting on that the entire frame shuddered.
"Snails." She spat disgustedly.
"Snails?"
"And worms. JJ keeps putting them on the castle, and they're *disgusting*."
"Well honey, he's just playing."
"He's touching the slimy bits mom! Then he puts them on my knee, and they feel yuk. And dad keeps telling a horrible story about worms, and that's disgusting too!"
"JJ – leave the snails alone and stop annoying your sister." Monica called out, knowing how much Bella hated slimy garden creatures.
"He won't listen. He does it when dad isn't looking, and he even tried to put one in my hair!"
Monica hoisted herself out of the love seat. "C'mon Bella. Let's go have a talk to your brother." They walked hand in hand down to the furtherest end of the yard. "Are boys yucky all the time, mommy?"
"Not all the time, sweetie. Sometimes they can be quite nice." She answered, shooting a conspiratorial grin at John.
"John, control your son, would you."
"I'm tryin', but I think he's gettin' a bit of outside help." He motioned towards the innocent looking Stephy. "Every time I turn my head, this one lets him know."
"Stephaney, are you helping your brother annoy Bella?"
"No, mommy."
"Stephaney." That tone she had perfected so well crept into her voice. The tone that told the kids, and John too, that she wasn't going to tolerate any nonsense.
"Well, just a little bit."
"You know Bella doesn't like snails."
"Yes mommy."
"Don't you think it's a bit mean to put them on her then?"
"Yes mommy."
"What do you think you should do?"
Stephy turned to face her sister. She knew when the game was up. "Sorry Bella."
"JJ?"
JJ also managed a mumbled apology.
"As for you," Monica began, resting her hand on the back of John's neck and letting her fingers tangle through the wisps of hair, "what kind of stories have you been telling?"
"Aw, nothin' really. Just something I used to do to my sister when I was a kid."
"And what was that?"
"C'mon kids, I think that's enough diggin' for today." John said, rising and brushing the sand from his legs.
"John, what have you been telling my children?" Monica demanded.
He ignored her, knowing he was going to be in trouble if she found out exactly what kind of stories he'd been telling. "You wanna play with the ball, Coco? Here boy, get the ball." And he threw a tennis ball across the yard, which was promptly chased by Coco and the kids.
"John!"
"Just a bit of fun, Mon. Nothin' to worry about."
"Then why am I so con –"
"Because you're a worry wort." He interrupted, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her close for an open mouthed kiss.
"But I love you anyway."
"It's a good thing you're so cute, John Doggett, or else I'd be mad at you for getting sand all over my clean pants."
"I guess it's a very good thing, then." He said, rubbing his nose against hers in a series of sweet angel kisses.
XxX
"So what happens now?" John asked Geoffrey Lindridge. They were in his lounge room, and John was watching him expectantly.
"First, I need to tell you a little bit about myself in order for you to understand where Monica is where she is."
"Okay. Talk."
"Her body is lying in a hospital bed. Her brain activity is normal – she could stay like that indefinitely. But her…" he trailed off, searching for the correct terminology. "Spirit…yes, an adequate word in this case. I've noticed that Monica is a very spirited woman. She has the most amazing aura…anyway, her spirit is with me."
"With you?" John looked around the room purposefully. "Where?"
"I carry her with me. In here." He tapped the side of his head. "This is where I carry all my charges."
Geoffrey met John's icy stare with one of his own.
"Monica is in your head. I see. She's just walking around in there, is she?"
"You don't believe me. But you will. And if you're hold any hope of bringing Monica back you'd better listen, and listen good. Because you'll need to offer her more than vague intimations of a future relationship. She's going to need something a lot more substantial from you to even consider coming back."
"You make it sound like she has a choice."
"Of course she has a choice, I told you this before. I don't take people just for the hell of it. I see a need, and I offer a haven. Most of my charges settle happily into their new life – but then most of them have nothing to come back too. Monica does. You need to convince her of this."
"She knows what she has here."
"No, John, she doesn't. And you'd better hurry up and figure it out yourself. There is a time limit on these things."
"Is she in any danger?" John asked, concern flooding his eyes.
"Not physically. Not even mentally. But she's been there for almost a week now, and the ties that bind her are strong. She won't leave them easily."
"So what are we waitin' for? Let's go."
"There's one more thing I should tell you…"
"You can tell me on the way."
"You realise that I'll be taking you into me?"
"So you said." John retorted, impatience making him terse. He still didn't believe all this mumbo jumbo, but he had to at least check it out. For Monica.
"I'll take you to her." Geoffrey whispered.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
And just like that, when Geoffrey reached out to clasp John's hand, the whole world lurched.
XxX
When everything stopped spinning, he found himself standing outside his house. "How'd you do that?" he gasped.
"I could take the time to explain it to you, but you wouldn't understand. Now, before we go in I have to tell you that last thing."
"Spit it out –" His attention was suddenly diverted to shadows moving behind the windows. "There's someone in my house." He said quietly, reaching for his gun as he purposely ascended the steps.
"John, no! Wait a minute."
John ignored him and burst through the door, colliding with some sort of display unit/bookcase thing that he'd never seen before. His head caught the side of the offending piece of furniture, and exploded in a sea of stars and swirly lights. He winced, and became aware of a figure bending over him, cradling his pounding head in its lap and stroking the side of his face.
"John? Are you okay?"
Monica?
"John! Can you hear me?"
"Monica? Is it really you?"
"Of course it's me." She replied, smiling down at him. "How hard did you hit your head?"
"I – oww, pretty damn hard, I think." he said, trying to sit up.
"Come over to the couch. I'll ring Dana – you might have a concussion."
"It's not that bad." He said, sitting down gingerly. "I'm made of pretty stern stuff."
"I *know* that, silly. Come over to the couch and sit down for a minute then."
She grabbed his arm and led him to the couch. She sat down next to him and looked in his eyes for any sign of concussion. "Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"
"I'm fine."
"What are you doing back so soon? Did you forget your wallet?"
"No, I –" His words were lost as she gently kissed his forehead and smiled a smile that he'd never seen from her before. He grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together. "Tell me it's really you and that I'm not experiencin' some sort of hallucinatory delusion."
"I'm starting to worry now, John. Maybe we should forget about Dana and just bundle up the kids and drive over to the ER ourselves."
"I just need to know that I'm not dreamin' – did you say kids?"
Monica was saved from having to answer, with the appearance of JJ trying to creep up the stairs. John gasped in surprise, while Monica groaned good-naturedly. She knew he was up to something, she just had to figure out what.
"Hold it right there, mister. Where do you think you're going?"
"Upstairs." A small voice called back.
"Come here please." JJ shuffled into the lounge room.
"What have you got in your hands?"
"Nothin'."
"Jonathon James Doggett, don't you lie to me."
"Aww mom."
"Spill it."
"I was just going to play a trick on Stephy. Like daddy used to play on Aunt Lesley – from the story he told us in the sand pit."
"What exactly did you tell them, John?"
"I – I don't –" He was confused, not sure if this was real or just a figment of his imagination. Geoffrey said he'd take him to Monica, but since when was Monica a mother?
"He used to put worms in her bed, mommy. He told us Aunt Lesley used to scream real loud, and it was really funny."
"You told your son that? Knowing what he's like, knowing that he'd just have to try it himself, you…" She shook her head in resignation. "You're lucky we caught him now, you know. Can you imagine the ruckus if he'd have put them in Bella's bed?"
Son? Monica thought he was the father of her son?
"I wasn't going to put them in Bella's bed," JJ protested. "Just Stephy's. She's not scared of worms."
"That's not the point, JJ. I want you to turn around and put those worms back in the sand pit, do you understand me?"
"Yes mom."
"And then I want you to go upstairs and get ready for your bath. I'll be up in a minute."
"Yes mom."
"This is your fault, John." She said, watching the forlorn figure of JJ trudging through the house, his fun spoiled. "No wonder you were hiding it from me earlier. Worms! I hope Lesley at least managed to pay you back."
"Yeah, she did. Would you believe that for two weeks straight I thought I was wetting the bed because she was pouring glasses of water in after I'd fallen asleep?" He chuckled at the memory.
"I don't think we need to be telling Stephy that, do you? Or Bella. We don't want them to get any ideas."
"How did he know about what I did to Lesley?" John asked, suddenly even more confused than ever.
"You told him. You told them all earlier this evening."
"But that's not possible. I just got here."
Monica started reaching for the phone. "That's it. I'll call Dana over to watch the kids, and then I'm taking you to emergency."
"Monica, stop. There's nothing wrong with me. But there's something seriously wrong with you – with this whole situation. It's not right."
Monica's frowned in suspicion. He sounded so much like Real John at that moment, that it wasn't funny. And then she paled, and her eyes widened in shock at the appearance of Geoffrey Lindridge.
"There's nothing wrong, Agent Doggett. This is where she could belong. If you let her."
"By being honest?"
"Yes."
"Okay. What do you want to know?"
Geoffrey shook his head. "Not with me, with Monica."
"Monica is in a coma. How'm I supposed to even talk to her, let alone be honest with her?"
"I'll take you to her. But you'll have to be aware of some things, first."
"You're gonna take me to the hospital?"
"No. I'm going to take you to where she is."
"To the hospital." John persisted.
"That's where her *body* is. Her soul, or spirit, or whatever word you use these days to describe her life force, is elsewhere."
"I see. I'm sittin' here talkin' to a crazy man."
"Could you be any more obtuse? Monica is – never mind, you wouldn't believe it anyway. I'll just have to show you."
"Fine. Show me."
"Not here. We'd be exposed to too many people. Firstly, I'll wake Agent Scully. Then you'll have to let me go."
"I'm not lettin' you go!"
"Come on, John. It's not like you have a whole lot to hold me on. I could get a lawyer down here and I'd be out within minutes – you know this. But the longer we take, the longer Monica stays where she is."
John weighed up his options, before finally deciding. "I'll have you released into my care. But if you try to escape…"
"I won't."
"…If you try to escape I *will* find you. I promise you that."
The two men sized each other up, and Geoffrey was convinced that John was telling the absolute truth. He nodded, and moved across the table to clasp Scully's hands again.
"I need to be touching the subject." He said as way of an explanation. "You should be sitting where you were before I put her to sleep – she won't be aware of what has transpired. Oh, you should re-cuff me, too."
John leant over and slipped the cuffs back on him. "Now what?" he asked.
"Now I wake her." He took a hold of Scully's hands, and spoke one word. "Wake."
Her eyes flickered open, and she frowned in puzzlement as she noted Geoffrey's hands cuffed and sitting motionless in front of him. The frown deepened as she snatched her hands back and held them close to her body.
"I think we're done here." John said. "It's obvious he's not goin' ta tell us anythin' worthwhile. He's just wastin' our time."
Scully glared at the suspect and uttered a terse, "Fine." - knowing something was wrong, but not quite being able to put her finger on it.
"Get up." John ordered brusquely. He marched Geoffrey towards custody, leaving a bewildered Scully sitting in the interview room, trying to make sense of the ten-minute time discrepancy she had just noticed.
XxX
"Mo –ooom!"
Monica looked up from the book she was reading to see what the latest crisis was. The three kids, John and Coco were digging peacefully in the sand pit, making castles with semi-filled moats and generally keeping out of her hair. Well, they had been. Bella was standing indignantly with her hands on her hips, scowling down at JJ and Stephy, and Monica was half expecting smoke to come pouring from her ears at any minute.
"What is it, Bella?" She asked, repressing a grin.
She stormed through the yard and sat down with such force on the love seat Monica was sitting on that the entire frame shuddered.
"Snails." She spat disgustedly.
"Snails?"
"And worms. JJ keeps putting them on the castle, and they're *disgusting*."
"Well honey, he's just playing."
"He's touching the slimy bits mom! Then he puts them on my knee, and they feel yuk. And dad keeps telling a horrible story about worms, and that's disgusting too!"
"JJ – leave the snails alone and stop annoying your sister." Monica called out, knowing how much Bella hated slimy garden creatures.
"He won't listen. He does it when dad isn't looking, and he even tried to put one in my hair!"
Monica hoisted herself out of the love seat. "C'mon Bella. Let's go have a talk to your brother." They walked hand in hand down to the furtherest end of the yard. "Are boys yucky all the time, mommy?"
"Not all the time, sweetie. Sometimes they can be quite nice." She answered, shooting a conspiratorial grin at John.
"John, control your son, would you."
"I'm tryin', but I think he's gettin' a bit of outside help." He motioned towards the innocent looking Stephy. "Every time I turn my head, this one lets him know."
"Stephaney, are you helping your brother annoy Bella?"
"No, mommy."
"Stephaney." That tone she had perfected so well crept into her voice. The tone that told the kids, and John too, that she wasn't going to tolerate any nonsense.
"Well, just a little bit."
"You know Bella doesn't like snails."
"Yes mommy."
"Don't you think it's a bit mean to put them on her then?"
"Yes mommy."
"What do you think you should do?"
Stephy turned to face her sister. She knew when the game was up. "Sorry Bella."
"JJ?"
JJ also managed a mumbled apology.
"As for you," Monica began, resting her hand on the back of John's neck and letting her fingers tangle through the wisps of hair, "what kind of stories have you been telling?"
"Aw, nothin' really. Just something I used to do to my sister when I was a kid."
"And what was that?"
"C'mon kids, I think that's enough diggin' for today." John said, rising and brushing the sand from his legs.
"John, what have you been telling my children?" Monica demanded.
He ignored her, knowing he was going to be in trouble if she found out exactly what kind of stories he'd been telling. "You wanna play with the ball, Coco? Here boy, get the ball." And he threw a tennis ball across the yard, which was promptly chased by Coco and the kids.
"John!"
"Just a bit of fun, Mon. Nothin' to worry about."
"Then why am I so con –"
"Because you're a worry wort." He interrupted, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her close for an open mouthed kiss.
"But I love you anyway."
"It's a good thing you're so cute, John Doggett, or else I'd be mad at you for getting sand all over my clean pants."
"I guess it's a very good thing, then." He said, rubbing his nose against hers in a series of sweet angel kisses.
XxX
"So what happens now?" John asked Geoffrey Lindridge. They were in his lounge room, and John was watching him expectantly.
"First, I need to tell you a little bit about myself in order for you to understand where Monica is where she is."
"Okay. Talk."
"Her body is lying in a hospital bed. Her brain activity is normal – she could stay like that indefinitely. But her…" he trailed off, searching for the correct terminology. "Spirit…yes, an adequate word in this case. I've noticed that Monica is a very spirited woman. She has the most amazing aura…anyway, her spirit is with me."
"With you?" John looked around the room purposefully. "Where?"
"I carry her with me. In here." He tapped the side of his head. "This is where I carry all my charges."
Geoffrey met John's icy stare with one of his own.
"Monica is in your head. I see. She's just walking around in there, is she?"
"You don't believe me. But you will. And if you're hold any hope of bringing Monica back you'd better listen, and listen good. Because you'll need to offer her more than vague intimations of a future relationship. She's going to need something a lot more substantial from you to even consider coming back."
"You make it sound like she has a choice."
"Of course she has a choice, I told you this before. I don't take people just for the hell of it. I see a need, and I offer a haven. Most of my charges settle happily into their new life – but then most of them have nothing to come back too. Monica does. You need to convince her of this."
"She knows what she has here."
"No, John, she doesn't. And you'd better hurry up and figure it out yourself. There is a time limit on these things."
"Is she in any danger?" John asked, concern flooding his eyes.
"Not physically. Not even mentally. But she's been there for almost a week now, and the ties that bind her are strong. She won't leave them easily."
"So what are we waitin' for? Let's go."
"There's one more thing I should tell you…"
"You can tell me on the way."
"You realise that I'll be taking you into me?"
"So you said." John retorted, impatience making him terse. He still didn't believe all this mumbo jumbo, but he had to at least check it out. For Monica.
"I'll take you to her." Geoffrey whispered.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
And just like that, when Geoffrey reached out to clasp John's hand, the whole world lurched.
XxX
When everything stopped spinning, he found himself standing outside his house. "How'd you do that?" he gasped.
"I could take the time to explain it to you, but you wouldn't understand. Now, before we go in I have to tell you that last thing."
"Spit it out –" His attention was suddenly diverted to shadows moving behind the windows. "There's someone in my house." He said quietly, reaching for his gun as he purposely ascended the steps.
"John, no! Wait a minute."
John ignored him and burst through the door, colliding with some sort of display unit/bookcase thing that he'd never seen before. His head caught the side of the offending piece of furniture, and exploded in a sea of stars and swirly lights. He winced, and became aware of a figure bending over him, cradling his pounding head in its lap and stroking the side of his face.
"John? Are you okay?"
Monica?
"John! Can you hear me?"
"Monica? Is it really you?"
"Of course it's me." She replied, smiling down at him. "How hard did you hit your head?"
"I – oww, pretty damn hard, I think." he said, trying to sit up.
"Come over to the couch. I'll ring Dana – you might have a concussion."
"It's not that bad." He said, sitting down gingerly. "I'm made of pretty stern stuff."
"I *know* that, silly. Come over to the couch and sit down for a minute then."
She grabbed his arm and led him to the couch. She sat down next to him and looked in his eyes for any sign of concussion. "Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"
"I'm fine."
"What are you doing back so soon? Did you forget your wallet?"
"No, I –" His words were lost as she gently kissed his forehead and smiled a smile that he'd never seen from her before. He grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together. "Tell me it's really you and that I'm not experiencin' some sort of hallucinatory delusion."
"I'm starting to worry now, John. Maybe we should forget about Dana and just bundle up the kids and drive over to the ER ourselves."
"I just need to know that I'm not dreamin' – did you say kids?"
Monica was saved from having to answer, with the appearance of JJ trying to creep up the stairs. John gasped in surprise, while Monica groaned good-naturedly. She knew he was up to something, she just had to figure out what.
"Hold it right there, mister. Where do you think you're going?"
"Upstairs." A small voice called back.
"Come here please." JJ shuffled into the lounge room.
"What have you got in your hands?"
"Nothin'."
"Jonathon James Doggett, don't you lie to me."
"Aww mom."
"Spill it."
"I was just going to play a trick on Stephy. Like daddy used to play on Aunt Lesley – from the story he told us in the sand pit."
"What exactly did you tell them, John?"
"I – I don't –" He was confused, not sure if this was real or just a figment of his imagination. Geoffrey said he'd take him to Monica, but since when was Monica a mother?
"He used to put worms in her bed, mommy. He told us Aunt Lesley used to scream real loud, and it was really funny."
"You told your son that? Knowing what he's like, knowing that he'd just have to try it himself, you…" She shook her head in resignation. "You're lucky we caught him now, you know. Can you imagine the ruckus if he'd have put them in Bella's bed?"
Son? Monica thought he was the father of her son?
"I wasn't going to put them in Bella's bed," JJ protested. "Just Stephy's. She's not scared of worms."
"That's not the point, JJ. I want you to turn around and put those worms back in the sand pit, do you understand me?"
"Yes mom."
"And then I want you to go upstairs and get ready for your bath. I'll be up in a minute."
"Yes mom."
"This is your fault, John." She said, watching the forlorn figure of JJ trudging through the house, his fun spoiled. "No wonder you were hiding it from me earlier. Worms! I hope Lesley at least managed to pay you back."
"Yeah, she did. Would you believe that for two weeks straight I thought I was wetting the bed because she was pouring glasses of water in after I'd fallen asleep?" He chuckled at the memory.
"I don't think we need to be telling Stephy that, do you? Or Bella. We don't want them to get any ideas."
"How did he know about what I did to Lesley?" John asked, suddenly even more confused than ever.
"You told him. You told them all earlier this evening."
"But that's not possible. I just got here."
Monica started reaching for the phone. "That's it. I'll call Dana over to watch the kids, and then I'm taking you to emergency."
"Monica, stop. There's nothing wrong with me. But there's something seriously wrong with you – with this whole situation. It's not right."
Monica's frowned in suspicion. He sounded so much like Real John at that moment, that it wasn't funny. And then she paled, and her eyes widened in shock at the appearance of Geoffrey Lindridge.
"There's nothing wrong, Agent Doggett. This is where she could belong. If you let her."