Chapter 3 - John's State Of Mind
John Doggett's House. 11:56 AM. Monica turned over and saw John asleep. His arm draped over her, Monica smiled at his breath taking appearance. She loved the way he looked when he was asleep. She wanted him to stay like that forever, but of course he didn't. Something inside of him must have felt her stare, because he opened up his eyes and saw her. "Mmm. Good morning," he said softly, his eyes adjusting from being awake. "Morning," Monica replied. "How did you sleep?" she asked. John yawned for a quick second and then replied, "Pretty well. How about yourself?"
"Good," she said lying up against him. John chuckled lightly. "Want some breakfast?" he asked. "I can make us some if you want," Monica replied. John shook his head. "No, it's okay. I can make some."
"Are you sure?" Monica replied playfully. "Are you questioning my cooking abilities?" John joked. Monica nodded and gave his neck a small kiss. "I am indeed, whatcha gonna do about it John Doggett?" John smiled and placed a small kiss on Monica's forehead. "Nuttin. You can do the cookin'. I don't feel like getting up," he said, lightly pushing Monica. Hinting for her to get out of bed. "I don't wanna cook either," she said, smiling. John smiled back. "Then what's all this 'I can cook' stuff about then?"
"I just wanted to see what you would say."
John scoffed and kissed her head again. "Anything to get a rise outta me, Agent Reyes." Monica laughed and was about to get up, when John pulled her back into bed. "What?" she asked shocked by his gesture. "Where are you going?" he asked playfully. He held her close in his arms. "I'm going to make us breakfast." "Wait, I thought you didn't want to make breakfast," John asked, confused. Monica broke free from his grasp and stood up. She smiled evilly. "I just wanted to see what you would say," she replied. John threw a pillow at her and she ducked running out of the room laughing. John smiled, lying on his backside, his arms behind his head as he inhaled deeply. He chuckled to himself thinking about Monica.
Monica ran downstairs and started up the stove. She'd make the only thing she was good at. Eggs and toast. She heard the shower turn on and figured John was getting cleaned up. It was Sunday, no work, or so she hoped there wouldn't be. Monica ran upstairs quickly and knocked on the bathroom door. "Someone's in here already," John joked. "John?" Monica asked. "Yeah?"
"After we eat, can you take me to my apartment so I can pick up so stuff?"
"Are you going to spend another night over?" John asked with a smile. Monica blushed lightly. "If you want me to," she replied. John shut the water off. "Sure, I want you to."
"Okay then," she said. "Breakfast will be ready soon."
"Can't wait," John called out and the water was running again. Monica went back downstairs. John combed out his wet hair and put on his brown Mavericks shirt and a pair of ragged old jeans and went downstairs where the aroma of sausage, eggs and toast were waffling around in. He walked in to see Monica, still in his shirt, setting out the plates and silverware. She dropped a fork and bent down under the table to get it. Wearing nothing, but her pink panties, Doggett instantly noticed them and couldn't help but laugh. Monica jumped up and saw him. "What are you laughing at?" she asked, bewildered. "Your missin' pants, lil' lady," John remarked. Monica, looked down, embarrassed by his comment, and tried to pull his sweater further down. John noticed her nervous fumbling and walked up to her. "Hey, I was kiddin'," he said. She nodded, not saying anything. "You're gorgeous, you know." He put his finger under her chin and raised her head up, so she'd look at him. "Want to borrow a pair of my pants?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'll get dressed after we eat, I just didn't feel comfortable with wearing my outfit."
"Understood," John chuckled. They sat down across from one another and began to eat. "This looks good, Mon," John replied. He had a plate full of scrambled eggs, four pieces of toast, and three pieces of sausage. Monica looked at it in disgust, sure she made all of that for him to eat, but she never saw John eat so much in one lifetime. On her plate she had a small handful of eggs, two pieces of toast and one sausage. After several quiet minutes, John looked up at Monica and noticed she wasn't eating. "You're not hungry?" he asked. A piece of scrambled egg dangling from his mouth. Monica, put her finger up to the side of her mouth, and hinted for him to wipe it off. He pulled up his napkin and it was instantly gone. "Not really," she said. "But apparently you are." John looked down at his plate. "Well, it's been awhile since I've had a home cooked breakfast. It's really good." Monica smiled at his comments and watched him eat his way into an early coma. John looked up a couple of times as Monica began to eat herself. John was already on his second plate when Monica finished her food. "Are we at an eating contest?" she remarked watching him scarf down more scrambled eggs. "These are delicious!" he exclaimed. Monica already felt disgusted by his carnivorous-eating. She sat up and cleaned her plate while John still ate. "I'm going to go get dressed and then watch TV while you finish up," she said. "Wanna leave now?" John asked, his mouth full. "No, I can wait. No hurry John."
John smiled. "Okay," he said. Monica went upstairs and got changed. A few minutes later, while Doggett was still eating, he watched her sit on the couch across from him and turn on the TV. Monica was about to doze off when she heard John fumbling around in the kitchen she looked up at him as he sat down. He sighed deeply, his hand on his stomach as he closed his eyes. "Are you ready?" she asked. John rubbed his stomach continuously. "Give me a minute, please," he asked softly. Monica smiled, knowing what was wrong, but pretended she didn't understand. "Are you alright?" she asked, a smirk on her face. John shook his head. "I just feel a little sick," he grumbled lightly, as he patted his stomach. "Aww," Monica said. She leaned over and laid next to his shoulder. His eyes were still closed as he groaned lightly. She put her head on his stomach and he opened his eyes and watched as she kissed it lightly. "Am I hurting you?" she asked. "No," he responded. He draped his arm, around her as she rubbed his stomach, every now and then kissing it. "What -- why are you doing this?" he asked, feeling embarrassed. Monica lifted her head up and looked at him. "I'm making you feel better," she said, rubbing his stomach again. "Am I making it worse?" she asked. He shook his head and she smiled lying back on his stomach and gently massaging it. "So then, why are you embarrassed?" Monica asked, once again kissing his stomach. John rubbed her arm, his muscles tense. "I...I just...it's different. No one's ever massaged my stomach. Heh," he responded and Monica laughed lightly. "It's okay John," she said, looking up at him. "You have nothing to be ashamed about. Besides, you'd do it for me, if I wasn't feeling well, right?" she asked. John paused for a moment. "Yeah, I would," he said. John laughed as she massaged his stomach a few more seconds and then she looked up at him, giving out a sigh she didn't realize she had been holding. "Feeling better?" she asked. He nodded. "I am, thank you."
Monica sat up and John leaned in to kiss her...but suddenly he stopped and they just stared at one another. Enjoying the moment.
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 3:54 PM. "Sir? Sir?" a voice called out. John jumped up and grabbed his stomach. Feeling it lightly. He no longer felt full, as he did in his dream, but rather hungry. He looked down at his stomach and then blinked a couple of times when he looked up to find a young lady in her mid 30s smiling at him. "Hey," he said, looking around the room. He saw Monica a few inches away from him, still breathing through the tubes. "What time is it?" he asked. "After 3 PM, sir. If I may say so, she's fine here, maybe you should go home and get some rest?" the nurse asked. John nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah." John staggered out of the hospital, still a little tired. AD Skinner came up from behind him. "Where are you going Agent?" Skinner asked. John turned around. "I'm going home. I don't feel like taking my Lexus, so I'll just take the bus or something," John replied. "Your Lexus is in no shape to drive anyways. There's no, need to ride the bus. You have another car at home right?" John nodded. He had a Beige Mercedes from 1999 parked in his garage. "I'll give you a lift then," Skinner replied. "Thank you, Sir." "You've been through a lot, Agent," Skinner said, "I'm glad I could help out as much as I can." Skinner and Doggett walked to Skinner's his blue SUV and Doggett sat upfront with Skinner as they drove off. "Has Scully been by?" John asked. "She's visited a few times. Each time you were asleep," Skinner said. "Yeah, I've been falling asleep a lot easier, it seems."
"That's normal," Skinner said. "Have you talked to Agent Reyes' Mother yet?" John said. Skinner shook his head. His eyes glued to the road. "No, not yet. She'll be here in a couple of days. But as a request from me, and fellow FBI agents such as yourself," Skinner replied, "she can't really do anything...yet." John nodded, looking out the window. "It'll be okay, John. Monica is strong. Somehow she'll get through this. I know she will." "I think so too, Sir." Ten minutes later they arrived at John's house. "Thank you again, Sir," John told him. Skinner smiled. "Don't mention it. See you later, John." John got out of the SUV and watched Skinner leave. He unlocked his front door and walked inside his home. It felt so empty. He closed the door behind him and flopped down on the couch. He sighed deeply, thinking about Monica. Then he thought about something he didn't notice earlier. The dreams he had been having. They were continuing on their own. He never had a dream that continued on through another dream. "Weird," he mumbled to himself. He walked upstairs to take a shower and afterwards John went downstairs to make a quick sandwich. He wanted to hurry up and eat, so he could go to sleep and rush back to the hospital in the morning to see how Monica was. John watched a little bit of TV, while he quietly ate his sandwich. He needed something to do to keep his mind off of her. Shortly after he dozed off to sleep.
John Doggett's House. 11:56 AM. Monica turned over and saw John asleep. His arm draped over her, Monica smiled at his breath taking appearance. She loved the way he looked when he was asleep. She wanted him to stay like that forever, but of course he didn't. Something inside of him must have felt her stare, because he opened up his eyes and saw her. "Mmm. Good morning," he said softly, his eyes adjusting from being awake. "Morning," Monica replied. "How did you sleep?" she asked. John yawned for a quick second and then replied, "Pretty well. How about yourself?"
"Good," she said lying up against him. John chuckled lightly. "Want some breakfast?" he asked. "I can make us some if you want," Monica replied. John shook his head. "No, it's okay. I can make some."
"Are you sure?" Monica replied playfully. "Are you questioning my cooking abilities?" John joked. Monica nodded and gave his neck a small kiss. "I am indeed, whatcha gonna do about it John Doggett?" John smiled and placed a small kiss on Monica's forehead. "Nuttin. You can do the cookin'. I don't feel like getting up," he said, lightly pushing Monica. Hinting for her to get out of bed. "I don't wanna cook either," she said, smiling. John smiled back. "Then what's all this 'I can cook' stuff about then?"
"I just wanted to see what you would say."
John scoffed and kissed her head again. "Anything to get a rise outta me, Agent Reyes." Monica laughed and was about to get up, when John pulled her back into bed. "What?" she asked shocked by his gesture. "Where are you going?" he asked playfully. He held her close in his arms. "I'm going to make us breakfast." "Wait, I thought you didn't want to make breakfast," John asked, confused. Monica broke free from his grasp and stood up. She smiled evilly. "I just wanted to see what you would say," she replied. John threw a pillow at her and she ducked running out of the room laughing. John smiled, lying on his backside, his arms behind his head as he inhaled deeply. He chuckled to himself thinking about Monica.
Monica ran downstairs and started up the stove. She'd make the only thing she was good at. Eggs and toast. She heard the shower turn on and figured John was getting cleaned up. It was Sunday, no work, or so she hoped there wouldn't be. Monica ran upstairs quickly and knocked on the bathroom door. "Someone's in here already," John joked. "John?" Monica asked. "Yeah?"
"After we eat, can you take me to my apartment so I can pick up so stuff?"
"Are you going to spend another night over?" John asked with a smile. Monica blushed lightly. "If you want me to," she replied. John shut the water off. "Sure, I want you to."
"Okay then," she said. "Breakfast will be ready soon."
"Can't wait," John called out and the water was running again. Monica went back downstairs. John combed out his wet hair and put on his brown Mavericks shirt and a pair of ragged old jeans and went downstairs where the aroma of sausage, eggs and toast were waffling around in. He walked in to see Monica, still in his shirt, setting out the plates and silverware. She dropped a fork and bent down under the table to get it. Wearing nothing, but her pink panties, Doggett instantly noticed them and couldn't help but laugh. Monica jumped up and saw him. "What are you laughing at?" she asked, bewildered. "Your missin' pants, lil' lady," John remarked. Monica, looked down, embarrassed by his comment, and tried to pull his sweater further down. John noticed her nervous fumbling and walked up to her. "Hey, I was kiddin'," he said. She nodded, not saying anything. "You're gorgeous, you know." He put his finger under her chin and raised her head up, so she'd look at him. "Want to borrow a pair of my pants?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'll get dressed after we eat, I just didn't feel comfortable with wearing my outfit."
"Understood," John chuckled. They sat down across from one another and began to eat. "This looks good, Mon," John replied. He had a plate full of scrambled eggs, four pieces of toast, and three pieces of sausage. Monica looked at it in disgust, sure she made all of that for him to eat, but she never saw John eat so much in one lifetime. On her plate she had a small handful of eggs, two pieces of toast and one sausage. After several quiet minutes, John looked up at Monica and noticed she wasn't eating. "You're not hungry?" he asked. A piece of scrambled egg dangling from his mouth. Monica, put her finger up to the side of her mouth, and hinted for him to wipe it off. He pulled up his napkin and it was instantly gone. "Not really," she said. "But apparently you are." John looked down at his plate. "Well, it's been awhile since I've had a home cooked breakfast. It's really good." Monica smiled at his comments and watched him eat his way into an early coma. John looked up a couple of times as Monica began to eat herself. John was already on his second plate when Monica finished her food. "Are we at an eating contest?" she remarked watching him scarf down more scrambled eggs. "These are delicious!" he exclaimed. Monica already felt disgusted by his carnivorous-eating. She sat up and cleaned her plate while John still ate. "I'm going to go get dressed and then watch TV while you finish up," she said. "Wanna leave now?" John asked, his mouth full. "No, I can wait. No hurry John."
John smiled. "Okay," he said. Monica went upstairs and got changed. A few minutes later, while Doggett was still eating, he watched her sit on the couch across from him and turn on the TV. Monica was about to doze off when she heard John fumbling around in the kitchen she looked up at him as he sat down. He sighed deeply, his hand on his stomach as he closed his eyes. "Are you ready?" she asked. John rubbed his stomach continuously. "Give me a minute, please," he asked softly. Monica smiled, knowing what was wrong, but pretended she didn't understand. "Are you alright?" she asked, a smirk on her face. John shook his head. "I just feel a little sick," he grumbled lightly, as he patted his stomach. "Aww," Monica said. She leaned over and laid next to his shoulder. His eyes were still closed as he groaned lightly. She put her head on his stomach and he opened his eyes and watched as she kissed it lightly. "Am I hurting you?" she asked. "No," he responded. He draped his arm, around her as she rubbed his stomach, every now and then kissing it. "What -- why are you doing this?" he asked, feeling embarrassed. Monica lifted her head up and looked at him. "I'm making you feel better," she said, rubbing his stomach again. "Am I making it worse?" she asked. He shook his head and she smiled lying back on his stomach and gently massaging it. "So then, why are you embarrassed?" Monica asked, once again kissing his stomach. John rubbed her arm, his muscles tense. "I...I just...it's different. No one's ever massaged my stomach. Heh," he responded and Monica laughed lightly. "It's okay John," she said, looking up at him. "You have nothing to be ashamed about. Besides, you'd do it for me, if I wasn't feeling well, right?" she asked. John paused for a moment. "Yeah, I would," he said. John laughed as she massaged his stomach a few more seconds and then she looked up at him, giving out a sigh she didn't realize she had been holding. "Feeling better?" she asked. He nodded. "I am, thank you."
Monica sat up and John leaned in to kiss her...but suddenly he stopped and they just stared at one another. Enjoying the moment.
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 3:54 PM. "Sir? Sir?" a voice called out. John jumped up and grabbed his stomach. Feeling it lightly. He no longer felt full, as he did in his dream, but rather hungry. He looked down at his stomach and then blinked a couple of times when he looked up to find a young lady in her mid 30s smiling at him. "Hey," he said, looking around the room. He saw Monica a few inches away from him, still breathing through the tubes. "What time is it?" he asked. "After 3 PM, sir. If I may say so, she's fine here, maybe you should go home and get some rest?" the nurse asked. John nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah." John staggered out of the hospital, still a little tired. AD Skinner came up from behind him. "Where are you going Agent?" Skinner asked. John turned around. "I'm going home. I don't feel like taking my Lexus, so I'll just take the bus or something," John replied. "Your Lexus is in no shape to drive anyways. There's no, need to ride the bus. You have another car at home right?" John nodded. He had a Beige Mercedes from 1999 parked in his garage. "I'll give you a lift then," Skinner replied. "Thank you, Sir." "You've been through a lot, Agent," Skinner said, "I'm glad I could help out as much as I can." Skinner and Doggett walked to Skinner's his blue SUV and Doggett sat upfront with Skinner as they drove off. "Has Scully been by?" John asked. "She's visited a few times. Each time you were asleep," Skinner said. "Yeah, I've been falling asleep a lot easier, it seems."
"That's normal," Skinner said. "Have you talked to Agent Reyes' Mother yet?" John said. Skinner shook his head. His eyes glued to the road. "No, not yet. She'll be here in a couple of days. But as a request from me, and fellow FBI agents such as yourself," Skinner replied, "she can't really do anything...yet." John nodded, looking out the window. "It'll be okay, John. Monica is strong. Somehow she'll get through this. I know she will." "I think so too, Sir." Ten minutes later they arrived at John's house. "Thank you again, Sir," John told him. Skinner smiled. "Don't mention it. See you later, John." John got out of the SUV and watched Skinner leave. He unlocked his front door and walked inside his home. It felt so empty. He closed the door behind him and flopped down on the couch. He sighed deeply, thinking about Monica. Then he thought about something he didn't notice earlier. The dreams he had been having. They were continuing on their own. He never had a dream that continued on through another dream. "Weird," he mumbled to himself. He walked upstairs to take a shower and afterwards John went downstairs to make a quick sandwich. He wanted to hurry up and eat, so he could go to sleep and rush back to the hospital in the morning to see how Monica was. John watched a little bit of TV, while he quietly ate his sandwich. He needed something to do to keep his mind off of her. Shortly after he dozed off to sleep.