Title:  Start As You Mean To Go On
Author:  Mare (MareZX@aol.com)
Category:  VA
Rating:  PG
Spoilers:  Missing scene from 4-D
Archiving:  Gossamer okay, others please ask
Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Don't sue.
Summary:  "This man has already lost most of what's 
important to him and I'm about to take away what's left, so I 
have to be strong, even if I don't feel that way."


START AS YOU MEAN TO GO ON
By Mare (MareZX@aol.com)
12/9 - 12/10/01


It breaks my heart to see him like this.

John Doggett is a man of action; always moving, always busy.  
We weren't partners for very long, but even that brief time 
was long enough to show me that.  He hated taking down time 
when he was injured -- I heard from nurses in more than one 
hospital what a pain he was.  How he hated lying still; waste 
of time, he called it.  How will he take the news that the 
remainder of his life could be a waste of time?

I don't think he was fully conscious and coherent when he 
tapped out that message in Morse code.  He is now, and it 
looks like what happened is just hitting him.  His eyes dart 
around the room, falling on each machine in turn, finally 
coming to rest on the communication device.  He finally looks 
up at me, curiosity in his eyes as well as something else I've 
never seen there.  In his eyes, I see fear.

It's not easy, but I force a smile.  "Welcome back, John," I 
say, wondering if my voice sounds as shaky to him as it does 
to me.  "They taught you how to use this?"

His eyes shift to the screen as his finger taps.  The letters 
appear slowly:  HI DANA

Now my smile is real, but tears threaten to come with it.  
"How are you doing?  Okay?"

OK

A pause, then he starts tapping again.  WHAT HAPPENED?

He knows, doesn't he?  He told us who did it.  "John, you 
were shot..."

My voice trails off when I see him tapping again.  Of course 
he knows he was shot.  The next words that appear onscreen 
make it obvious that that's not what he's asking.

HOW AM I?

How is he.  Such a simple question, such a complex answer.  I 
should be the one to break it to him, and I want to -- he might 
take it better from me than from one of the nameless doctors 
who bustle through here.  Maybe they told him the extent of 
his injuries, maybe they didn't.  Either way, he seems to trust 
only me and looks to me for the ultimate answer.  I want to 
tell him, but I hate like hell to have to do it.  He's watching 
me, and with each moment I don't answer I can see his fear 
growing.  He knows it's bad; whatever he's thinking now must 
be worse even than the truth.  If there could be anything worse 
than this truth.

I take his hand, the one not operating the communication 
device, and hold it in both of mine.  I don't know if he can feel 
my touch, but his lips twitch in a ghost of a smile.  How I 
wish this were simple enough to soothe away with mere 
touch.  "John," I begin, hearing more than shakiness in my 
voice now.  I take a deep breath and start again.  "John, the 
bullet lodged in your spine."

HOW BAD?

The worst you could possibly imagine, my friend.  "You were 
struck in the neck, so the bullet hit very high up...  I..."

I can't say it.  He needs to know, but I can't say it.  I squeeze 
his hand, wishing he could squeeze back.  That might give me 
the strength to go on, but all I have as a guide is the fear in his 
eyes.  I shouldn't have stopped like that.  I'm scaring him.  
He's been the strong one for me often enough; now he needs 
me to be strong for him.  This man has already lost most of 
what's important to him and I'm about to take away what's 
left, so I have to be strong, even if I don't feel that way.  I take 
another deep breath and say words I never dreamed I'd ever 
say.

I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but I still can't 
believe I'm saying them.  "At the moment you're paralyzed 
from the chest down..."

He knows that much.  He's waiting, very apprehensively, for 
the rest.

"... and... I'm so sorry, but the doctors think it'll probably be 
for life."

Saying the words is hard enough; watching John's reaction is 
exponentially harder.  Even though his eyes close I can see his 
anguish -- I just confirmed his worst fears.  That's made even 
clearer by the tears that slip from his eyes, and my heart 
breaks all over again.  It's not fair, he doesn't deserve this, and 
I'm sure he's thinking the same thing.  Things must look very 
bleak to him right now, and if there's one thing he needs, it's 
hope.

"That's not set in stone, John," I say quickly.  "It's far from the 
final diagnosis.  Things change, new treatments are found all 
the time..."

Nothing I say matters.  He's hearing none of it.  His tears 
continue to fall silently, soaking the pillow by his face.  This 
is a very uncharacteristic reaction for him, but he's more than 
earned the right to a little self-pity.  I just can't allow him to 
lose himself in it.

"John, look at me."  He doesn't respond to the command in my 
tone, so I try something a little softer.  "Please look at me."

After what feels like an eternity his eyes open, but he focuses 
on the screen rather than me.  His finger slowly taps and the 
words appear, words John Doggett in his right mind would 
never say to me.

GO AWAY

The words sting, but I'm not about to let him get away with 
that.  "I'm not going away, John."  I take his hand again, 
wishing once more that he could feel my touch.  "I'm staying 
right here and I'm going to help you deal with this."

Another slow reply.  CANT DEAL   GO

"You can deal with it, because you have to.  But you don't 
have to do it alone."

OUT

His words probably shouldn't hurt so much, but they do.  
Suddenly I know what he felt like during our partnership, 
when I expended so much of my energy pushing him away.  I 
was wrong then, and though he doesn't see it, he's wrong now.  
"Why?  Why do you want me to leave?"

Again it takes a long time for him to answer, but the words 
finally appear:  DONT WANT

My mind fills in the rest.  He doesn't want me to see him like 
this, a feeling I can completely understand.  Unfortunately, I 
can't honor it.  I'm about to tell him why when he finishes his 
thought.  The words that stare at me from the screen send a 
chill up my spine.

DONT WANT LIVE LIKE THIS

Again I can understand the feeling, but his words fill me with 
horror.  This is self-pity speaking again, or maybe something 
much worse.  The John Doggett I know and have grown to 
care very much for is a fighter.  He doesn't give up, no matter 
what the odds.  I can't believe he's even entertaining the 
notion, and I have no idea what to say.  "You can't be 
serious," is what finally comes out.

The letters appear faster this time.  DEAD SERIOUS    NO 
WORK NO LIFE

I'm in over my head here.  The only experience I can draw on 
is what I went through with Mulder, but nothing in that 
experience compares to this.  I've seen him despondent, but 
not like this.  Compassion usually worked with him, but I 
have a feeling that a different approach is necessary here.  
"What makes you think you have no life?" I ask him.  "Just 
because you can't go out in the field, your brain doesn't work 
anymore?  You think no one can use the benefit of your 
experience?"

He still won't look at me.  He concentrates on the screen, 
where large white letters appear again.  WHO NEEDS 
USELESS LUMP FLESH?

That's it.  That's the ticket.  John is a man who needs to feel 
needed, and he doesn't see how he can be now.  "I do.  I need 
you.  I need you in my life.  The FBI needs you, needs your 
mind, your experience.  Your family and friends need you, 
and nobody cares that you're not in top condition.  The people 
who need you still do, able-bodied or not."

I can see I've gotten to him.  He's thinking this over, and I'm 
not sure he believes me.  Finally he taps again:  WHAT U 
NEED ME FOR?

What do I need him for?  He's only been my rock during 
Mulder's various absences, even when I wouldn't let him be.  
"What don't I need you for?  You've been there for me from 
the day we met, no matter how much I pushed you away.  I..."

His eyes flick briefly toward me, and I know I've hit home 
again.  Encouraged, I go on.  "I need you to still be there for 
me... the way I'm going to be here for you.  Push me away all 
you want, but I'm not leaving until you stand up and 
physically throw me out."

His eyes finally meet mine, but he looks away quickly and I 
can see tears glistening again.  He taps slowly, and once the 
words come up I know I've made no impact.

LEAVE ME ALONE

At this moment, I feel Mulder's absence keenly.  He'd know 
how to pull John out of this depression.  I wish I could at least 
call him, ask his advice, but I'm on my own here, and I'm 
definitely in over my head.  I'm running out of ideas, and can 
only pray that this last one works.  "Being alone isn't going to 
help you, you know.  Nobody's going to pull the plug on you 
and you can't do it yourself.  If you could, you wouldn't need 
to, would you?  So you can either lie there feeling sorry for 
yourself or you can do something to help yourself."

Again his eyes meet mine, and now he's angry.  It doesn't 
matter that he's mad at me; anger is good.  He taps quickly, 
harder than he has up till now.  HELP HOW?

Jackpot.  "By assisting in your own rehabilitation.  I told you 
that lifelong quadriplegia might not be your final diagnosis.  
Already you can move your finger.  In time you might be able 
to move your entire hand.  Your spinal cord wasn't severed, so 
there is possibility of healing.  There is a lot of swelling in the 
area, due to trauma from the bullet.  Once that swelling goes 
down, more feeling might return.  You received all the right 
drugs at the proper times to facilitate healing.  I believe some 
return of motor function is possible."

He turns my words over in his mind again.  Do I believe 
everything I just said?  I'm not sure.  What matters is, does he 
believe it?  Slowly, the words come:  CANT EVEN 
BREATHE MYSELF

"You will."  Confidence is very important here.  "You'll 
breathe on your own, you'll move your arms, and someday 
you very well could walk."

He studies my face now -- seeing if I believe it?  Abruptly he 
turns his gaze to the screen again and taps.  DREAM ON

"John, life is not over for you."  Maybe I can relate to his 
situation...  "About five years ago, I was diagnosed with 
cancer.  A small tumor in my nasal cavity.  Inoperable."  He 
knows this; he read it in Mulder's files.  But he doesn't know 
how I handled it.  "I thought my life was over, too.  I was in 
denial for a while, then I just... gave up.  Gave in to 
conventional treatment that had no chance of curing me.  Do 
you know when I started to take my life back?  When I started 
to fight.  When I looked beyond the obvious for a cure.  When 
I took the reins and decided that I was not going to die."  I 
pause.  Though he's not looking at me, I know he's listening.  
He's a goal-oriented person; I have to give him a goal now to 
keep his mind off those awful thoughts.  "You need to do that 
now."

His finger remains still; he's thinking.  Maybe I have reached 
him.  My voice is soft now.  "You have a long and difficult 
road ahead of you, John... but you're not alone.  I'll be 
traveling with you every step of the way."

He shifts his gaze toward me again.  Have I reached him?  I 
think I have... until the next words appear on the screen.  U 
DONT NEED 2 BABIES

Now I'm getting frustrated.  "Forget what I need.  What's 
important right now is what you need.  You need help, and I'm 
going to help you.  I'm going to be with you every minute 
possible.  Lean on me as much as you need to, but you're 
going to do the work and you're going to heal."

He blinks, but doesn't tap.

"Do you want to heal?  Do you want to have feeling in your 
limbs again?"

His eyes close, and again I see a tear slip from beneath his 
lashes.  But he taps  YES

"Will you do the work necessary for that to happen?"

No response, so I push on.

"You're not alone in this, John.  I'll help you any way I can, 
I'll be there with you through everything, no matter how 
difficult it is.  I'm not the only one either.  I'm sure Monica 
Reyes wants to help, and AD Skinner as well.  Will you try?"

Again, no response.

"John?  You won't heal unless you try.  Will you try?"

Long, long pause, but his finger finally moves.  YES

I can't help a small sigh of relief.  Thank God, I have reached 
him.  I've given him something else to think about.  "I won't 
lie to you, John.  It will be hard.  But you can do it, and I'll be 
there with you through all of it.  Okay?"

He doesn't answer the question.  A strange light comes into 
his eyes, and he taps MONICA?

"Agent Reyes?  What about her?"

Rapid tapping now.  FUNERAL?

What an odd question.  "Funeral?  Agent Reyes is alive and 
well.  Don't you remember her standing here next to AD 
Skinner?  I just told you she'll help you too."

ALIVE?

Why does he think she's dead?  "Yes, she's alive.  Why do you 
ask?"

GET HER?

I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.  After all this, he 
wants her?  "You want to talk to her?" I venture.

ABOUT CASE

Case.  I don't know what case he's talking about, but the 
request now seems safe and I can honor it.  "Okay, we'll call 
her."

His eyes close again and I move toward the door, but the soft 
clicking sound of his communication device stops me.  I turn 
to find two words on the screen:  THANKS DANA

This draws me back to the bed, and I sit on the side opposite 
his communicating hand.  "You're very welcome."  I lay my 
hand on his face, wiping away the tear tracks with my thumb.  
This touch he can feel, and it brings fresh tears, but a smile 
too.  He needs this touch, and I'm more than willing to give 
him whatever he needs.  "It won't be easy, John," I tell him 
softly, "but I'll be right there beside you, and I won't be the 
only one."

His finger taps gently.  RATHER LEAN ON U

Now I can't help but smile.  "I wouldn't have it any other 
way."  My hand gently strokes his brow.  "Can I get you 
anything?  Do you need anything?"

IM OK

"I know you are.  And you will be."

Pause, then  IF U SAY SO

Just when I thought I had him convinced...  "Don't you believe 
it?  Don't you believe you can get better?"

YES

Somehow that doesn't sound convincing.  "Do you really 
believe?  Or are you just saying that because you know it's 
what I want to hear?"

He thinks it over for a moment, then taps  I BELIEVE IF U 
DO

"I do."

Another pause, then  I DO

I can feel my smile widen.  "No more talk of pulling the 
plug?"

He blinks and taps WHAT PLUG?

That's the John Doggett I know, and it feels wonderful to have 
him back.  I rise and softly kiss his cheek.  "I'll go call Agent 
Reyes now.  You get some rest."

I leave the room feeling more hopeful than I have at any time 
since the shooting.  Maybe John might be all right after all.

~ fin~

Author's note:  I think 4-D is the only ep, ever, that made me 
set fingers to keyboard almost immediately after it was over.  
I've never seen such a glaring hole that begged for a missing 
scene before...

Why was it such a glaring hole?  Because of the other thing 
that struck me about the ep.  Until the very end, Doggett 
seemed way too... okay... with the prospect of being a 
quadriplegic for life.  He had to have gotten a heavy-duty pep 
talk from somebody before Reyes came in to talk to him.

There's that... and the fact that my muse is the biggest H/C slut