Title: Silent Faith
Author: Philiater
Category: DSR
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: late season eight.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. They belong to CC 
and 1013.
Thanks to Donna H. and Keleka for much needed beta assistance.
This is my first foray into DSR. I blame Jenna and Anne
Hedonia for my temporary 'conversion.'

You can find my fanfic at www.philiater1.com


Summary: The discovery of unspoken pain and 
devotion can suddenly make the right choices clear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Silent Faith


They rode in silence as they usually did on the way to 
this latest case. Doggett, Scully was finding, was a man 
of few words. 

She was used to Mulder's chattering in the car, filling the 
silence with theories and facts to convince her of his 
sincerity. Mulder needed the time to 'stroke' her, woo her 
to the side of possible irrationality. She'd say very little, 
absorbing it all like a sponge and interjecting only when 
something was totally unclear. In the end, she'd 
remain unconvinced, if not neutral, to what he had said.

Doggett did none of that. He was inscrutable to her in so 
many ways. They'd discuss the case beforehand and agree
on a course of action. He was a planner and didn't like 
'untidy' details. He was also maddeningly precise, 
demanding explanations she wasn't nearly as prepared 
to give.

So it seemed to fall on her to play Mulder's part now; to 
convince Doggett of the validity of odd facts in a given 
case. 

But she did a poor job. She lacked Mulder's enthusiasm 
and sheer verbosity. When she couldn't explain 
something scientifically, Doggett would gloss over it as 
if the explanation would present itself eventually.

She looked at his profile now as they drove. It was a face 
full of sharp angles and lines. Not hard, but tough. She'd 
seen enough to know he had a soft heart though, and that 
he couldn't hide what he felt because his eyes were 
always a dead give away. They were a crystal blue color
that seemed years younger than the man who possessed 
them. And she'd noticed they matched the blue parka he was 
wearing.

He turned to see her staring, and she quickly looked 
away.

"Is there somethin' wrong, Agent Scully?"

"No," she murmured. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"  He wasn't going to let it go.

"I was thinking about the case," she lied.

"What about the case?"

"That this may not be a genuine X-file."  She *had* 
thought that before, but hadn't expressed it.

"And why is that, Agent Scully?" He was circling her in, 
using the kind of questions that would prevent a vague 
response.

"The disappearance of Mary Sand could still be a simple 
case of a runaway child."

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Well, you coulda said 
somethin' *before* we left D.C."

He was right. "Would it have made a difference?"

That got his full attention. He swiveled his head toward 
her, fixing her with a slightly surprised stare. "We're 
partners Agent Scully. I expect a discussion of the facts."

She couldn't hold this gaze for long; it was too intense, 
too unnerving to do so. She looked out the window 
instead. "I'm still getting used to you."

A barking laugh caused her to look at him again. 
"William is two months old. How long is it gonna take?"

It wasn't an angry statement for which she was glad. She 
realized he might find her as perplexing as she found 
him, perhaps more so.

"How long have you got?" She said it with a smile in her 
voice, and she thought that would settle it. But then she 
really didn't know John Doggett.

"However long it takes," he said with quiet intensity.

Silence settled over them like a blanket, and Scully felt 
something change between them. It was a subtle change, 
as most had been.  But this change felt more important, 
infinitely more significant. He'd inadvertently spoken of 
the future, a taboo subject until now.

Taboo, because the future was supposed to include 
Mulder, and his triumphant 'return' to Scully's side and 
the X-files.  But as time stole by in large chunks it 
seemed less and less likely to occur. 

Scully had felt the separation from Mulder take place 
gradually, like removing a stuck Band-Aid with 
excruciating slowness. The pain of that separation had
been prolonged and too full of false hopes. Lately she'd 
come to see Doggett as her permanent partner, and that
scared her more than any X-file could.

"How far now?" Doggett's voice interrupted her reverie.

Scully rifled through the ungainly map to study it. "We 
just passed Clinton?"

"Yeah, about twenty miles back."

"We should be close then."

They craned their necks to look for signs of a town.  
Snow Valley, Michigan in the Upper Peninsula was their 
destination, if they could locate it. One obstacle, 
however, was its sheer remoteness, and another was that 
it had been snowing steadily for several hours. The 
forecast had been for light snow, but as they'd traveled 
northward it only got heavier.

Doggett pulled the rental car over to the side of the 
narrow mountain road. They were on a path that had 
been literally carved out of the mountains. Blast marks 
were still present on the rock faces.

"Let me take a look at the map," Doggett said.

When Scully handed it to him his fingers brushed hers 
lightly and lingered a little longer than she was used to. 
She felt herself staring into his handsome face, feeling a 
spark of something warm travel from his hand to hers. It 
journeyed up her arm and spread across her face leaving 
her warm and flushed.

She let go of the map and the spell was broken.

Suddenly restless, she got out of the car to look around 
for herself. The physical contact with Doggett had been 
unnerving, and it bothered her more than it should have.

A gust of icy wind cooled her face as she surveyed the 
area. Nothing. There seemed to be nothing at all for 
miles. How had they missed the town?

She pulled her yellow parka tighter around her slight 
frame and ventured forward past the car. A flat rock 
was just ahead on the right, and appeared to overlook
a valley. If she could climb up to stand on top of it, she 
might be able to see for quite a long distance.

As she walked up the road, she stole a look back at the 
car. Doggett was so engrossed in the map he didn't see 
her move ahead. It made her smile to see him so 
perplexed over being lost. He'd calculated their trip 
down to the last mile, and now he'd have to revise his 
plan.

The rock was higher than she initially thought, and she 
felt dwarfed by its massive size. Stealing herself, she 
grabbed onto a ledge and hauled herself up. She'd 
climbed several feet before hearing Doggett's angry 
voice behind her.

"Agent Scully, what are you doin'?"

He was still by the car, but she feared he would move 
rapidly up the road toward her. She was almost there, 
and had no intension of stopping to discuss it with him.
She finally reached the top and gasped at the beauty 
before her.

The valley contained tall evergreen trees, but more 
importantly, she saw a small cabin at the base of the 
mountain. A cabin meant civilization, and the possibility 
of people or a nearby town.

She turned to tell Doggett what she could see, but 
slipped on a patch of ice.  Too late, she realized her 
mistake, and couldn't compensate to keep from falling. 
She went over the side of the rock that faced the valley.

For a second or two she was freefalling through chilled 
air, but too soon she landed on a cold and unforgiving 
hard surface.

She could hear Doggett calling her name through the 
wind above her. 

His voice sounded panicked. "Scully! Scully!"

When she tried to move to answer him, pain sliced 
through her left arm. She cried out in agony, knowing it 
was broken.  

Too much, she thought, the pain was too much.  The last 
thing she saw before blackness descended was Doggett's 
grief stricken face looking down on her crumpled body.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Damn it, Doggett thought when he saw Scully climbing, 
what the hell does she think she's doin'? He'd only taken 
his eyes off of her for a few minutes, and the next thing 
he knew she was trying to be Paul Bunyan.

He got out of the car impatiently and called her name. 
She either didn't hear him, or chose to ignore him 
because she continued her climb. There was no reason 
for this display, he thought angrily. He knew where they 
were now. Somehow he'd gotten off onto a side road 
instead of the highway back at Clinton. They were a 
good thirty miles to the north of Snow Valley. All they 
had to do was turn around again.

As he neared the rock, Doggett could see it wasn't as flat 
as he'd first thought. One misstep and she'd....

As if reading his mind, Scully turned toward him. Her 
look of triumph was replaced with horror as she lost her 
balance. In sickening slow motion, he watched as she 
flailed her arms to prevent herself from falling. Even as 
he broke into a dead run, she was over the edge before 
he could get to the base.

"Scully!"

He still couldn't believe she'd fallen. Within seconds he'd 
scrambled to the top, and dared a look over the side. He 
saw her lying below him on a rock shelf. It must have 
broken her fall, and may have saved her life. But her left 
arm was held at an awkward angle, and he could see 
blood on her cheek.

A knife-like pain sliced through his chest. Oh, god, 
Scully...

As quickly as he could, he descended the rock. It was 
treacherous work, and he nearly slipped several times. 
Half-way down he realized they'd never be able to climb 
back up.

When he reached her he saw a small gash on her cheek. 
He unzipped her jacket and could see the slight rise and 
fall of her chest.  Good, she was breathing.

He checked her over quickly, and didn't seem to find any 
other injury. He did, however, find a smashed cell phone 
in one of her packets.  His was 'in the shop' because the 
battery wouldn't stay charged, even when he'd purchased 
a new one. So much for calling for help.

Very gently, he checked her left arm. It appeared intact 
until he got to the wrist. Under rapidly bruising skin he 
could feel the broken fragments of bone slide against 
each other. The maneuver elicited a painful moan from 
Scully.

He had to get them out of there soon. It looked as if a 
storm were coming, and when the sun set the 
temperature would plummet. So would their chances for
survival.

The sensible thing to do was find a way to climb back up 
the rock to the car. Barring that, he could find a way 
around the mountain. If he couldn't call for help, he 
could drive for it.

That would be the sensible thing to do. But it would 
mean leaving Scully alone and exposed to the elements. 
He'd seen a cabin in the distance on the climb down and 
thought it would be close enough to walk to. But a cabin 
didn't guarantee a telephone, or signs of life for
that matter. The rightness of what to do warred within him.

In the end, he knew he couldn't leave her here.  Even if it 
meant they might not be rescued at all, he couldn't leave 
her out here to die...alone.  The thought that Luke had 
died alone had always haunted him.

Luke. 

No. He couldn't think of that now. He had to take 
action.

"Scully, Scully, honey can you hear me?"

She moaned and nodded. Her eyes fluttered open to 
reveal pain clouding their deep blue.

"My wrist...hurts."

"I think it's broken. We need to get you out of this storm, 
but there's no way back up. Do you think you can walk?"

"I...think so. Help me sit up."

"Easy now," he said as he slid an arm under her back.

She was biting her lip as he helped her to sit up.  Her 
eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the pain in her 
arm.  Long moments passed, and Doggett realized she 
was holding herself with tight rigidity. 

"Uh, Scully, I'd feel a whole lot better if you'd breathe," 
he said.

She let the air out with a slight laugh.

"You okay?"

She nodded, but didn't speak.

He slid an arm carefully around her side to pick her up 
and place her on her feet. It took a minute or two for her 
to gain her equilibrium, so he kept his arm around her.

"I saw a cabin not far from here. Do ya think you can 
walk there with me?"

"Yes." Her voice sounded stronger, and he felt relieved.

"Okay, good. Ready?"

She nodded again in the affirmative. He had to give her 
credit.  She certainly was tough.

With a deep breath, they moved forward and staggered 
out to the forest.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Despite the relative short distance to the cabin, it still 
took them over an hour to reach it.  Scully stumbled 
several times, causing her wrist to bang against her side. 
She never complained, but she couldn't suppress the 
sharp intake of breath at the pain. He tried not to push 
her too hard, but it was rapidly growing colder, and 
darker.

When they finally reached it, he realized the term 'cabin' 
was a generous one.  It was more a shack really: a roof, 
four walls and a door.  A locked door.

"Who would lock a door in the middle...," he muttered.

"John?" Scully's voice was close, but very faint.

When he looked down he saw her face had gone white, 
and she was slumping down onto her knees.  If he hadn't 
been holding her by the waist, she would have fallen 
forward on the stoop.

"Shit."

He lowered her gently until she lay on her back. With 
impatience, he pulled his glove off with his teeth, and 
reached for her neck. His blunt fingers traced the line 
below her jaw until he found what he wanted: a pulse 
fluttering just below the surface of her skin.

She'd fainted. It was probably from the exertion of 
crossing the forest, but he had to get her inside and 
warm. And soon.

It didn't take much effort to kick the door in. A cloud of 
pine dust billowed out of the opening.  He peered inside 
the gloomy interior and cursed the fading light outside. 

"Hello? Is anybody in there?" He felt ridiculous doing 
this now. He'd assumed the cabin was empty, but 
Scully's condition had made him hasty. Of course he'd 
have felt equally ridiculous knocking.

When he received no answer, he advanced cautiously. It 
took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. 
What he saw filled him with dread. It was far worse than 
he thought.

There was no furniture except a chair and table made out 
of logs.  Neither looked sturdy enough to hold a child, 
much less an adult. The floor was hard packed dirt, and a 
filthy rug lay in front of a decrepit stone fireplace.

There was no couch, no bed, nothing.  He didn't want to 
bring her in here, but they didn't have much choice.  The 
snow had stopped, but the cold wind had picked up 
considerably.  They'd both die of exposure.

He picked her up easily and stepped inside.  With no 
other place to put her, he eased her gently onto the rug.  
He shot a scornful eye at the dilapidated fireplace.

"No chance of matches here, I'll bet," he muttered out 
loud.

On a whim he began checking the large fieldstones it 
was constructed of. If this was a hunter's cabin, maybe 
some were hidden behind a stone to keep them dry.  Just 
as he was about to give up, he found a lose stone near 
the top.

He hesitated for a moment. It *could* just be a loose 
stone, and pulling it out might cause the whole thing to 
come down. But he really had no other choice, so he 
held his breath and tugged.

The rumble of falling stones never happened. Instead he 
found a small box of matches, a key, and a yellowed 
piece of paper. He realized the paper was a note.

'Jake, if you get here before me, help yourself to the 
locker.'

Doggett frowned. Locker?

He didn't spend anymore time ruminating over it.  
Instead he grabbed all three items and set them on the 
hearth. He threw the rickety log chair into the fireplace. 
Taking the note and crumpling it into a ball, he lit it 
with one of the matches.

With care, he blew on the tiny flame and bloomed up 
quickly.  He watched as yellow flame licked up and over 
the dry wood making it hiss and pop. Within minutes a 
satisfying fire was crackling in the fireplace.

Well, he thought, that was one good thing. Thank you 
Jake.

He moved Scully as close to the fire as he dared. He 
removed her parka and placed it underneath her. Then he 
shucked his own coat and lay down behind her on the 
filthy rug.

Mindful of her arm, he spooned up behind her to offer 
whatever body warmth he could. She was in shock, and 
he *had* to get her warm again. He hoped their good 
winter clothing and combined boy heat would do the job.
He grabbed his parka and pulled it on top of them both.

His heart sounded unreasonably loud in his ears and it 
simply refused to slow down. As he lay on the hard floor 
with his arms wrapped around her cold frame, the 
enormity of what had happened finally hit him. He'd 
almost lost her, could have lost her.  The thought caused 
a terrible pain in his gut, and went far beyond the idea of 
losing a friend.

When had she become so important to him?

The rules concerning her were unwritten, but very clear: 
she was Mulder's girl. And he'd always kept a respectful 
distance.  Circumstances had driven Mulder from her 
and William's lives during a vulnerable period.  But she 
was strong, and endlessly loyal, convinced they would 
be reunited.  And he'd watched her wait for Mulder.

And wait. And wait.

He'd wondered where she got the patience, the tolerance 
for waiting. He would have thought she'd give up, but 
she never did. It made him admire her.  And envy him.

Whenever his thoughts strayed beyond the professional, 
he'd try to think of something else, or go work out in the 
gym until he was too tired to think anymore.  

He'd never been in better shape.

But recently he'd noticed a subtle shift in their 
relationship.  It was nothing obvious, or overt, but a 
gradual warming between them.  She seemed to like his 
company a little more, lingered in the office when she 
could have left.  She brought William to the bureau, and 
he'd become attached to the baby quickly.  They also 
spoke more and more about the personal details of their 
lives, and he'd considered this the strongest sign.

Strong because from the time she'd thrown water in his 
face after Mulder disappeared, he knew she hadn't 
trusted him completely.  She'd thought he was on 'their' 
side, the side of those who wanted to destroy the X-files.  
It had taken over a year to win that trust, and it made 
him unreasonably happy to get it.

Now, he felt enormous guilt over her.  When she'd 
handed him the map he'd taken advantage of the gesture 
to touch her, caress her hand.  Something passed 
between them, he was sure of it.  Her eyes had become
dark with an emotion he couldn't place, but he could see
it frightened her.  That was why she'd gotten out of the car 
and climbed the rock, to get away from him and the 
feelings he'd roused.

As he lay next to her, he made her silent promises. If they 
got out of this alive, he'd leave her alone, transfer to 
another unit if need be to give her some peace.  But he 
knew the promises would be difficult if not impossible 
to keep.  Having her soft body so close to him felt better 
than he ever dreamed.  Her hair was silky soft and smelled 
sweetly clean It was a sensation he could easily get used to.

It was a long time before he could sleep.




~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scully woke sometime late in the night shivering 
violently. She attempted to turn over on her other side to 
insinuate herself into the heat she felt behind her. A yelp 
of pain escaped her lips when her bad arm was jostled.

Doggett was instantly awake, checking her over and 
murmuring soothing words in her ear. It all came back to 
her with a rush: the case, getting lost, and her fall. With 
a whimper, she put her good arm around him and buried 
her face in his muscular neck. He wound up half 
covering her, but she didn't mind. He felt good, warm, 
and solid. She didn't want to let him go.

Perhaps it was the dismal cabin, or their close proximity, 
but she trembled with the fear of what had happened, 
could have happened. They were still a long way from 
being safe, and she'd acted stupidly. But it was Doggett 
who apologized.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, stroking her hair. "It's my 
fault." His rough voice was made rougher by a depth of 
emotion that Scully didn't understand. It made her hurt 
deep inside for him.

"No, not your fault," she whispered between cold lips. "I 
was careless. Don't blame yourself."

He simply held her close, allowing silence and emotion 
to settle between them. She was lying on her back now, 
and he tried to rearrange her arm so it was in a better 
position. His chivalry was touching, but she had to bite 
her lip with the effort not to cry out.

"Better?"

She nodded, but knew pain was still etched on her face.

"I need to find somethin' to splint that arm," he said and 
began to stand up.
 
"No, it's fine," she said stopping him, "Please come back 
and..." She was suddenly too embarrassed to finish.  
The realization of just how much she wanted him to hold 
her was a surprise too. 

She looked away, but he was next to her again almost 
immediately. With gentle hands, he gathered her close, 
and pulled her to his chest. He kissed her forehead 
tenderly before tucking her head under his chin. Scully 
thought the gesture was sweet and generous.

"I need to go for help at first light. I'm gonna to hike 
back to the car and drive to Snow Valley. I think you'll 
be safe here while I'm gone."

"No!" she said too quickly. The thought of being left 
behind filled her with dread.

He didn't say anything for a few moments leaving her in 
an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry," she stammered, "it's just I don't..."

"Want to be left alone," he finished for her.

"Yes."  

She wanted to tell him that the pain made her feel 
vulnerable, that she was afraid of dying, and hadn't 
worried as much about her own mortality until William 
born. She wanted to tell him that he made her feel safe, 
wanted, cherished. Most of all, she wanted to tell him of 
her irrational fear that if he left her, she was sure to die.

She pulled back to chance a look at him, and silently 
gasped when she saw the same raw intensity in his eyes 
that she'd seen in the car. That intensity was even more 
powerful now, and laced with something akin to 
sensuality. This time she didn't look away.

"I promise I won't leave you," he said with quiet finality.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead again, but she 
tipped her face up just enough to catch his lips. He froze 
for a second, seemingly surprised to find his mouth on 
hers. But then she felt his lips relax, and mold around 
hers. His mouth was so sweet, so soft it made her ache.

One kiss became a series of kisses, his mouth opening 
slightly and just catching her lips with his. She opened 
her mouth to allow entrance of his supple tongue, and 
desire as sharp as a knife sliced through her. It was good, 
so good.

And in that moment she knew: the very thing she'd been 
avoiding, had been running away from, was now made 
clear in the dusty interior of the dilapidated cabin.

She was in love with John Doggett.

And if she read him right, he loved her too.

The realization caused a tearing sensation within her, as 
if all the pain she'd held inside over Mulder's leaving 
was bursting through her heart. Those jagged emotions 
held a terrible promise: that if she acknowledged her 
love for Doggett, it meant giving up her love for Mulder. 

Doggett pulled back from her when he sensed hesitation, 
and his face fell when he saw tears in her eyes.

"Scully? Dana?" The uncertainty and hurt were plain in 
his voice.

All she could do was bury her face in his chest while the 
emotional storm raged. He said nothing and simply held 
her as tears soaked through his wool sweater.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd made her cry.

Doggett couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that the 
woman he'd always wanted to kiss and now held in his 
arms was shaking with grief-stricken sobs. He'd wanted 
to make her smile, to hear her tell him she'd wanted him 
all this time too. 

But she was crying, and he felt like the lowest animal 
one earth for being the cause.

When the worst was over, he continued to wait in the 
heavy silence that followed. He waited to hear her say 
that she was sorry she'd kissed him, that it was a huge 
mistake and she still loved Mulder. He waited like a 
prisoner on death row waits for a lethal injection.

She finally made a muffling sound into his sweater, but 
he couldn't understand it.

"What?" he asked, "Did you say somethin'?"

She raised her trembling mouth to his ear and repeated 
herself: "I love you, John."

He flinched as if she'd struck him. Did she say she loved 
him?

"Say that again."

"I love you, John."

"Say it again."

This time she laughed. "I said I love you, John."

"Then why are you cryin'?"

"Because I'm happy."

"You're cryin' 'cause you're happy?"

"I know, it doesn't make sense, but I just realized how 
much you mean to me. And that I have to say goodbye..." 
she trailed off.

"To Mulder." He said it as a statement, and knew the 
truth that lived there. Now that it was out in the open he 
wasn't going to run from it.

"Yes."

"You know I never wanted to come between you."

"I know it," she said and trailed a finger over his cheek 
and chin. "And I thank you for that. It wasn't fair."

"It was fair. I had no right to hope for you, but I always 
did anyway."

"Did you? All this time?" she asked sounding surprised.

"Oh darlin', you got no idea." He kissed her again, and 
hoped everything he felt would be translated to her, all 
the love and happiness she made him feel. "I love you 
somethin' awful."

"So what do we do now?" She sounded a little bewildered, as 
if the idea of 'them' was too new a concept.

"We gotta get out of here first. Go to sleep and we'll 
both leave together in the morning."

"Both of us?"

"Both."

He settled down next to her, reveling in the pleasure of 
holding her close. She smiled contentedly, and he kissed 
her forehead.

"That must be your favorite spot," she murmured sleepily.

He waited until she was fast asleep before replying. 

"It is for *now*.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
End