Title: Short of Breath

Author: spookycc

Classification: V, A, DRF, DSF, Doggett!Torture (only because I love 
to see him comforted ;-D) 

Rating: Prolly PG-13, same as the eps

Spoilers: None, but assume general knowledge through Providence

Timeline: Season Nine, pre-"William"

Summary: Doggett goes along with Scully, Reyes and William on a 
little "cruise"... This fic is my answer to a DTA fic challenge about 
Doggett suffering a near drowning.

Dedication: To Doggett's Bitch: best friend, mentor, beta, soulmate. 
To Girlassassin, survivor and dear friend. To Robert Patrick, the man 
behind The Dogg. ;-)

Archival: I'll take care of Gossamer and Ephemeral. Anyone else who 
wants it is welcome to it - just let me know where it's going. XFMU, 
DTA & OBSDS member sites, it's yours if you want it, no notification 
needed.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I don't kill my 
characters off as often as the real owners do. ;-/

Feedback: Love it. spookycc@earthlink.net


> ****

The boat eases through the water, Agent Doggett's smooth oar strokes 
bringing us closer to the target area. As we near the GPS coordinates 
we're looking for, John has turned the engine off. Not like we'd be 
disturbing anything, he'd mused aloud, but we don't want to pass 
right over what he doesn't think is here anyway. 

It took almost all my powers of persuasion to get him to come along - 
he doesn't believe these ships are extra-terrestrial - but the powers 
weren't needed, anyway. Once I told him Scully and William were 
already out here, his bags were packed. 

"Out here" in this case is off the coast of Washington state. The 
ship, as it was described by Scully, is an exact replica of the ship 
she and I saw take off from Canada. I don't yet know if it's the same 
ship or not - only that Agent Scully said she needs to know William's 
connection to the crafts.

William sleeps quietly in Dana's arms, and I see a look of worry 
cross John's face. He didn't want to bring William out here with us, 
and I understand and share his concern. But once Scully has her mind 
made up...

She's convinced that William has some affect on the ships - or they 
on him. And once she heard of this sighting, she would not be 
stopped. 

The area we are searching is deserted, for the moment. No 
investigators. In fact, no ship of any kind, other than our motorboat.

I pull my attention back to the GPS unit we appropriated from the 
FBI. I'm surprised that John "borrowed" the device. He seems to lose 
some of his by-the-book rigidity when it comes to helping Dana. 

I'm just about to notify John that we're closing on the coordinates 
when I hear a great moan from somewhere below us. Our boat is tossed 
into the air like a child's toy, and we are all thrown into the 
frigid water. 

I surface, hearing Scully's shouts as my head clears the 
water. "William! Get William!" 

I look quickly to the left and right. I don't see William. Or John. I 
swim quickly to Agent Scully's side. "Where are they?"

She shakes her head desperately, flinging frigid salt water in my 
face. "I have to find him! I have to-"

Motion in the waves catches my attention, and I point further 
out. "There! Is that them?" She looks in the direction I point. In 
the dark waters, beyond our boat, I see a head bobbing above the 
waves. And then another.

John swims toward us with William, holding the baby's tiny head above 
the waves. Dana and I reach the boat, on our way to meet John, and we 
right it. I climb in, extending a hand to help her in as well. She 
shakes her head, swims on toward John and her child.

I paddle the boat awkwardly in the direction Dana swam, letting the 
craft bob motionless when I reach her. John holds William securely, 
and Dana hangs one arm over the side of the boat, motioning for John 
to hand her the child. 

He places William in Scully's outstretched arm...

And all hell breaks loose. Again. Although we can't see any craft, I 
can see the waves, feel the pull of the suction on our boat, as the 
alien ship slides further out to sea. Thankfully, our boat remains 
afloat this time, and I manage to stay inside it as the waves toss it 
about.

Dana almost loses William, regains her hold on him, and hands him to 
me. We turn back to the water. 

John is gone. He was the only one not hanging onto anything on the 
surface, and the undertow has claimed him. 

I pull William and then Dana into the boat. Dana pulls William to her 
chest, kisses his head, wipes the salt water from his eyes, tries to 
quiet his crying. He didn't take in too much water - his lungs sound 
strong. 

I dive back into the chilly water, swimming in the direction I'd last 
seen John. Hoping he hasn't been pulled too far - hoping he has the 
strength to resurface. 

The alien craft continues displacing water - I find that letting the 
undertow pull me in the direction I'm heading actually makes it 
easier, despite the initial fearful reaction to being pulled under. I 
float with the momentum it creates, and kick to the surface when it 
releases me. 

Where the hell is John? I fling my head to the left and right, panic 
beginning to settle in. 

I use our boat as a center point and begin swimming outward in 
widening circles, searching the waves while trying to quell my 
growing feeling of despair. My arms and legs feel so heavy - but 
something keeps me moving, keeps me searching... And then I see John. 
Floating face down, motionless, about twenty yards away. 

Adrenaline gives new strength to wearied muscles, and fast strokes 
bring me to his side. I roll him over onto his back, waiting for the 
telltale rattle of fluid in the lungs. But I hear none - he's not 
breathing. 

I hear a shout to my side - Scully has paddled the boat out to meet 
me. She extends a hand over the side, and together we manage to push 
and pull John's unconscious form into the boat. I take her hand 
myself, and climb in after him.

Scully pull-starts the engine, and steers the boat toward shore. Our 
cell phones are waterlogged, worthless, and John needs medical help 
soon.

Laying my head against John's chest, I can *feel* a fast, unsteady 
heartbeat. Still no respirations. I tilt his head back, do a quick 
finger sweep, and then press my lips to his. Holding his nose, 
watching for his chest to rise as I breathe - hopefully - into his 
lungs. But John's chest does not rise. I try again, with the same 
result. 

Damn. I need to get the water out of his lungs. I straddle his thighs 
and close my hands together, one atop the other, thrusting them into 
his abdomen to force his airway clear. Then back to rescue breathing -
counting off in one-one-thousands...

Finally, after an eternity, a cough. I roll John onto his side, and 
hold him as he expels water painfully from his lungs. He gasps, 
trying to pull air in too quickly. 

"Easy, John." Relief floods through me, even though I know he's not 
out of the woods. Just to hear him breathing - *fighting* - gives me 
the strength to fight, too. I keep a hand on his shoulder, another on 
his back, as he doubles over on his side, trying to rid his lungs of 
all the water they took in...

His eyes widen between coughs, and he struggles under my hands. 

"It's ok. Lie back."

"Wil - William!" he manages to stutter between raspy coughs. 

"He's fine, John," Scully assures him. "He's right here." 

John falls back limply in the bottom of the boat. And almost 
instantly begins to shiver. A quick search of the boat brings up 
nothing to cover him with. Anything still in the boat would be as 
drenched as we are, anyway. I sit close to him, trying to share my 
body heat. His body shudders beside mine. I look up at Scully - she's 
still steering for shore, but her attention is on John. 

"We need to get him to a hospital, fast. He took in a lot of salt 
water, God knows what else."

I pull his wrist into my hand. "Pulse is still really fast," I inform 
Dana. I don't need to tell her that he's still having trouble 
breathing - we can both hear the shallow, wheezing breaths he takes. 

John coughs harshly. Trying to clear his lungs, and having no 
success. I lay my head gently against his chest. "His heart is 
racing."

She shakes her head. "He's tachy."

I had a friend in school that had tachycardia, so I don't need to ask 
the definition. Rapid heartbeat. Even if we were in an ER, they 
probably wouldn't give meds to pull the heart rate back to normal, 
especially given his condition. 

Dana turns away for a moment, and I follow her gaze - we're almost to 
shore. She runs the boat up onto the sand far enough to fully ground 
it. Then she nods at me to stay with John, and she takes William and 
heads for the boat rental office...

She walks back out to the boat, a cell phone to her ear. She hands me 
two blankets she brought from the office, and I sit with John, trying 
not to fear the worst, as Dana recites his condition to the 911 
dispatcher. "...Adult male, post-immersion. Symptomatic - he's tachy, 
has a low-grade fever, dyspnea. Probable hypoxia, possible 
hypothermia."

I hope it sounds worse than it is. 

"We'll need immediate 100% O2 or intubation on your arrival." She 
barks her orders like a physician accustomed to being obeyed. 

John trembles within unconsciousness. I wipe his wet hair gently from 
his forehead, and bundle the blankets more snugly around him. I 
whisper that everything will be ok, hoping to God I'm not lying. It's 
only a short while before we hear the siren, announcing the EMS' 
arrival...


> ****

St. Joseph Hospital
Bellingham, Washington


Dana comes out to the ER waiting room, where I sit with William 
asleep in my arms. She looks serious - too serious.

"How is he?" William stirs quietly as I stand to meet her.

She sighs deeply. "They had to intubate him - the mask wasn't re-
oxygenating him fast enough. They're rewarming him, too, to bring his 
core temperature up."

The images of the "other" Doggett, on a respirator, creep into my 
mind. "Will he make it?"

Dana sighs again. "Monica, I'm sorry - it's just too early to tell. 
We got him here in good time, though. They're moving him to ICU."



> ****


Even armed with the facts, I'm totally unprepared for John's 
appearance, when I enter his room. His skin is the palest I've ever 
seen it - and his hand, when I take it, is stone cold. He is still 
unconscious - the oxygen tube looks invasive and uncomfortable, but I 
know he doesn't feel it, anyway. 

I sit down beside the bed, warming one of his hands within both of 
mine. "Open your eyes, John," I plead silently.

He doesn't.

The scene is all too familiar. I hadn't seen John for years, when he 
called me in on the search for Agent Mulder last winter. Since then, 
I can't even count all the times John has been injured...

I lay my head down on his arm, and sleep finally claims me...

I'm awakened abruptly when my head hits the bed rail. John thrashes 
about, semi-conscious. His breath is too rapid, and he's fighting the 
oxygen tube, trying to pull it out.

I hit the call button, just as a nurse arrives in response to his 
monitor alarms. 

"It's ok, John!" I grab at his arms as he flails them side to side. 

The nurse tries to keep John from pulling his IV out, and from 
yanking at the tube from his throat. 

John's eyes open suddenly. He's panicky, and I realize that he's 
reliving his experience in the water.

"John, you're ok!" I try to reach him through the haze he's 
in. "You're not in the water anymore."

The nurse injects something into John's IV line, and he settles 
within minutes. She nods at me. I keep one of his hands in mine, 
rubbing gently, speaking in a soft voice. 

It must have been a doctor-prescribed sedative that the nurse gave 
him, because he's out like a light once more...


> ****

Next Day

Scully walks into the ICU lounge, after a short conference with 
John's physician. My eyes ask the questions I can't voice. 

"He's holding his own," she offers an encouraging smile. "They pulled 
the oxygen tube, and he's breathing ok with just the cannula."

It *is* a positive turn, I know. But when I enter his room, John 
still looks so out of it...

I take my customary place beside his bed, prepared for more hours of 
waiting...

Suddenly, his hand closes weakly on mine, and I look into his face. 
His eyes are barely open, and his teeth chatter audibly. "C--- cold..."

My heart leaps. I close my hands around his. "I know - we're trying 
to warm you up, ok?"

He nods, just a bit. He licks his lips, and his hand tightens on mine 
once more. "William?"

I smile in reassurance. "He's fine, John. You're the only one here as 
a patient."

He half-smiles back, and his expression relaxes. His eyes slip shut 
once more, and he drops back into sleep. 

But he's back. Once again, we've dodged a bullet. I have him back - 
at least for now...



~fini~



Author's Notes:

I took some liberties with rescue breathing and abdominal thrusts. 
Don't try this at home, kids. ;-)

I know a bit about tachycardia 'cuz I have it myself. 

And remember - Always wear life preservers. Even if they don't look 
cool on TV. Or in fanfic. ;-P



Shameless Plug:

My other Doggettfic is at my site:
http://www.geocities.com/spookycc/

Thanks to Anne H., my rockin' webmistress!