Kathleen A. Klatte
kat2000@bestweb.net
kawklatte@aol.com

"Vision Quest"

Feedback and commentary are most welcome.  

Disclaimer:  The X-Files is the property of Chris Carter, FOX, 
and Ten Thirteen productions, et al;  this is a recreational 
endeavor, no profit is being made and no copyright infringement 
is intended.   
Scully & Doggett

******************************************
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

Dana Scully hurried after her new partner, gun drawn and ready 
to fire if necessary.  She'd seen him run down this street and 
disappear around the corner;  she only hoped he hadn't made any 
more turns.  Suddenly the night was pierced by a man's voice, 
howling in agony.  A rush of adrenaline shot through Scully's 
system.  As briefly as she'd known Special Agent John Doggett, 
she'd sensed very quickly that he was not a man to cry out 
easily.  

"Agent Doggett!"  

She charged around the corner, scanning the area as she quickly 
stepped to her fallen partner's side.  "Agent Doggett?" she 
called again, softly.  

Doggett lay curled on the pavement, both hands clamped tightly 
over his eyes.  His entire body writhed and shuddered in pain.  

Scully crouched down beside him and touched his shoulder gently.  
Her feather light touch was a sharp contrast to her cool, 
professional tone. "Agent Doggett, are you hit?"  

"My...eyes," he finally managed to gasp.  

A flashlight beam pierced the gloom of the alley and Scully 
swung around, raising her arm to fire before she realized that 
it was the local police she'd called for help just moments 
before.  "I've got an agent down!  I need an ambulance now!" she 
yelled.  

One of the officers nodded curtly and pulled out his radio to 
call for help.  

Scully put up her gun and turned her full attention to her 
injured partner.  "Agent Doggett, did you see which way he 
went?" she asked quietly.  

Doggett shook his head violently.  "No.  He threw something in 
my eyes."   

"Let me see," Scully murmured.  She very gently pried Doggett's 
hands away from his face, steeling herself to see blood or 
perhaps chemical burns marring his features.  To her surprise, 
his face was unmarked.  

"What did he do?" Doggett demanded in a voice raw with barely 
controlled panic.  "Why can't I open my eyes?"  

Scully carefully tipped his face towards the light of a street 
lamp.  "Agent Doggett," she replied, her own eyes clouding with 
worry, "your eyes are open."  

"I can't see."  Doggett's hand flailed out blindly and he caught 
Scully's sleeve.  "I can't see you," he repeated with a rising 
note of hysteria in his voice.  

"Shh," Scully soothed, skimming her hand lightly over his face 
and through his hair, partly to offer comfort, and partly to see 
if she could detect any kind of residue on his skin.  "There's 
an ambulance coming...we're gonna get you to a hospital and find 
out what's wrong."  

******

Scully stepped quietly into the dim hospital room.  "Agent 
Doggett?  It's Dana Scully.  May I come in?"  Receiving no 
reply, she moved towards the bed, pulling the door shut behind 
her.  "Agent Doggett, are you asleep?" she asked very softly.  

John Doggett sat upright in the hospital bed, perfectly 
unmoving, staring fixedly at the blank wall in front of him.  
"No," he finally answered.  

"How are you doing?" Scully asked, pulling up one of the rigid 
plastic chairs.  

"I'm blind," Doggett replied in the same flat tone.  He couldn't 
see Scully's features twist in sympathy.  

"For the moment, yes, that does seem to be the case," she said 
carefully.  "The doctors here want to keep you overnight to do 
some tests.  I need to know anything at all that you can 
remember that might help us to figure out what happened to you.  
Can you tell me exactly what happened?"  

"I already told you what happened!" Doggett exploded, exercising 
some of the vocabulary he'd acquired in Marine Corps boot camp.  

Scully, the daughter and sister of sailors, was unfazed and 
waited calmly for the tirade to pass.  Actually, she was 
relieved to see some sign of his usual fighting spirit.  "Agent 
Doggett, you told me that the suspect threw something in your 
face, is that correct?" she asked calmly, once Doggett fell 
silent.  

"Yes!"  

"All right...you have to understand, we can't seem to find any 
trace of any type of agent that could cause you to lose you 
sight.  There is no residue on your face or scalp, or in your 
hair.  We sent your clothing to the lab, and they're coming up 
empty as well.  Is there anything else you can tell me that 
might give us some clue as to what we're looking for?"  

"Are you saying I'm making this up?" Doggett demanded 
belligerently, lunging towards the sound of her voice and nearly 
losing his balance.    

Scully caught her partner's shoulders and pushed him firmly back 
against his pillows.  "You have got to calm down and relax so 
that we can help you.  No one, least of all me, thinks that you 
are making anything up.  If you tell me that your assailant 
threw something at you, then I believe you, but you have got to 
give me some sort of information to work with, some idea of what 
I'm looking for."  The silence in the room thickened and 
deepened until Scully began to wonder if this latest venture 
into the unknown had proven too much for her by-the-book 
partner.  

"We were checking out that warehouse," Doggett began in a quiet 
monotone.  "You were checking out that...altar...or whatever the 
hell it was.  I heard a noise and went to check the next room.  
I heard footsteps, identified myself as a Federal Agent and 
called for him to stop."  

"Him?" Scully asked intently.  

"From the height and build, yeah, I'd say 'him.'  Male, African-
American.  Tall - six eight, six ten, maybe."  

"Facial features?" Scully prompted, adding to her notes.  

Doggett sighed in frustration.  "I dunno..."  He gestured 
vaguely towards his own face.  "It was dark and I didn't get a 
really clear look, but ah, it looked like his face was fulla war 
paint or tattoos or something," he concluded rather reluctantly.  

"OK," Scully said crisply.  "Hair?"  

"Long.  Those ratty braid things."  

"Dreadlocks?" Scully asked with a tired little half-smile.  

"Whatever," Doggett snorted in disgust.  

Scully dutifully smothered a chuckle, knowing exactly what a 
former military man would think of such personal grooming...or 
lack thereof.  "Any chance that could have been a mask?"  

Doggett shrugged.  "Could be.  On the other hand, I've been a 
New York City cop...I've seen some pretty strange looking 
people."  

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"  

He frowned in concentration.  "I told him to stop, but the 
suspect took off out the door.  I followed him outside.  I heard 
you yell after me," Doggett added ruefully. 

"When I realized what you were doing, I followed, stopping just 
long enough to get out my cell phone to call for back up.  I 
don't know...maybe if I hadn't stopped..."  

Doggett reached out blindly with his left hand, groping for her 
hand, finally settling for bumping his fingers against her arm.  
"Hey...Agent Scully...don't go there.  You made the right call.  
If you'd been with me he probably would have got us both."  He 
heard Scully sigh softly and knew she blamed herself just the 
same.  

A moment later, her professional façade slipped back into place.  
Scully cleared her throat quietly.  "So, what happened after you 
followed the suspect outside?"  

"I saw him slither around a corner, so I slowed up, listened 
first and took the corner cautiously.  I'd seen the crime scene 
photos...I sure as hell didn't want to end up like that.  I 
entered the alley, and he was just standing there in plain 
sight."  

"And then what happened?" Scully asked, leaning forward 
attentively.  

"I identified myself - again.  Told him to stop - again."  

"And?"  

"And he...laughed at me.  Just stood there, in plain sight and 
laughed at me.  Then he said something."  

"What did he say?"  

"I don't know!  It was some language I didn't recognize."  

"OK, then, what about the voice?  Accent?  Anything?"  

"He had an accent," Doggett affirmed.  "Heavy accent.  Island, I 
think.  Like...you know that guy who does the TV commercials?  
Bald guy, white linen suit, straw hat?"  

This time, she did laugh.  "Yeah, I know who you mean.  This is 
a remarkably detailed description.  It also makes a great deal 
of sense in light of the voodoo-like trappings of the murders.  
And, I think it's enough to give the local authorities something 
to go on."  

"Enough to catch this creep?" Doggett asked doubtfully.  Scully 
was silent and he knew her well enough to realize that she 
wouldn't offer empty platitudes on such a matter.  His 
suspicions were confirmed when she changed the subject.  

"Is there anything else you can tell me about this substance 
that the suspect threw at you?"  

Doggett shook his head.  "Just that it was kinda shiny.  And I 
don't understand how any of it hit me at all...I wasn't that 
close to him.  I know I wasn't that sloppy."  

"I'm sure you weren't," Scully agreed.  

"Don't patronize me," Doggett snapped. 

"I'm not," Scully retorted.  "I'd just like to remind you that 
I've been doing this for seven years, and in that time, I've 
seen a great many things that defy immediate explanation.  The 
doctors here have scheduled several tests.  We're going to find 
out what was done to you, Agent Doggett."  

"And fix it?" he asked quietly.  

"I hope so," Scully replied fervently.  "I'm going down to the 
lab, to see if they had any luck finding anything on your 
clothing.  There's an officer right outside your door."  

"That's not necessary," Doggett protested.  

"You're the only person who's seen this guy and survived.  I 
think it is necessary."  She gently guided his hand to the 
buzzer.  "Use this if you need to call a nurse."  

Doggett took the opportunity to catch her hand in both his own.  
"Thanks for looking after me," he said sincerely.  

"It was never an option," she replied, quoting his own words 
with a crooked little smile.

******************************************

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Scully asked for the third 
time as she settled her partner on the couch in his hotel room.  

"I'm fine," Doggett replied patiently.  "I can't see...but I'm 
fine.  Have the local police had any luck with that description 
yet?"  

"The local police are doing their best, but this is a town 
that's famous for both its haunted houses and its population of 
vampire wanna-be's...they've got a collection of weird mug shots 
-"

"-that rivals the one back in our office?" Doggett suggested.  

"You might say that," Scully conceded.  "They have an enormous 
collection of voodoo related files to sort through.  They're 
doing their best."  

"But they're sorting through these files in addition to all the 
standard varieties of mayhem that they have to contend with.  I 
understand...maybe even better than you do.  That's why they 
called us in the first place."  

"I'm going back to the warehouse to take another look around," 
Scully informed him.  

"Let's go," Doggett replied, moving to get up.  

Scully laid a restraining hand on his arm.  "Agent Doggett," she 
said gently, "we still don't know exactly what caused you to 
lose your vision.  If you were to fall or strike your head -"

"You'll just have to keep me on my feet.  I trust you," he added 
with a crooked grin.  "Look...all my adult life, I've only been 
two things, a soldier and a cop.  I'm a good cop, and I know I 
can help you.  Besides, I don't want you going back there by 
yourself."  

"Fine.  I'll get one of the local officers to accompany me."  

"You just said it yourself - they're trying to protect their own 
city, they don't have time to take care of us.  Besides, I'm 
your partner - watching your back is my job."  A shadow of doubt 
and fear roughened Doggett's voice.  "Please, Agent Scully...you 
have to understand, my whole world is upside down here.  I need 
something to hold on to.  Let me try to do my job."  

"OK," Scully sighed reluctantly.  

******

"This the crime scene?" Doggett asked.  

"Yes," Scully replied.  "The altar is in front of you, in the 
center of the floor."  

"Look the same as before?"  Doggett felt a sudden coolness as 
Scully let go of his arm and heard a slight rustle as she knelt 
down to take a closer look.  

"No, the crime lab boys have been through here."  

"Then what's that stink?" Doggett demanded, waving a hand in 
front of his face.  

"Well, they picked up all the loose items - bones, feathers, 
bits of fur - but there's been an awful lot of blood spilled 
here over time."  

"Any a' that blood human?"  

"They're still working on that," Scully responded grimly.   

Doggett inhaled deeply.  He'd noticed that without his eyes to 
provide distractions, he seemed able to catalogue his other 
sensory impressions more accurately.  "There's something else," 
he muttered, half to himself.  

"What do you mean?" Scully asked curiously.  

"There's another smell, besides the blood and decay.  
Something...I dunno...incense, maybe?"  

"I can't smell it," Scully replied a moment later.  

"Close your eyes," Doggett instructed.  

She complied, frowning in concentration.  "It's very faint," she 
said finally, "but yes, I can smell something.  I - did you hear 
that?"  Her eyes flew open as she reached for her sidearm.  

"Footsteps?" Doggett whispered.  

Scully nodded.  She took Doggett's arm and led him to the corner 
of the room.  "Stay here."  Placing her back to the wall, Scully 
edged towards the adjoining room.  

"Agent Scully!" he hissed.  

Scully risked a quick glance into the next room.  "Federal 
Agent!" she called.  

She was rewarded with the sound of a door slamming and footsteps 
on the steps - the steps leading up.  

Doggett heard the noises, as well as the echo of Scully's high 
heels on the stairs, carrying her farther away from him.  
Muttering a few choice oaths, he reached inside his jacket 
pocket and came up with his cell phone.  Pausing a moment to 
mentally picture the layout of the keypad, he dialed 911.  "This 
is Special Agent John Doggett, Federal Bureau of Investigation.  
My badge number is..."

******

Scully heard the heavy tread on the steps above her and hugged 
the wall, in case the suspect had a firearm.  "I'm a Federal 
Agent and I'm armed!" she repeated.  "Stop where you are!"  

A peal of laughter floated down the stairwell in response.  
Deep, rich laughter with more than a hint of evil to it.  

******

Doggett heard the laughter, too.  The same laughter he'd heard 
just before he lost his vision.  Leaning against the wall where 
Scully had left him, he cursed his ineffectiveness.  He was 
carrying his gun, since there'd been no place to secure it, but 
the weapon was useless to him, since he couldn't see.  He 
noticed abruptly that the footsteps had stopped.  "Agent 
Scully!" he yelled.  

When he received no response, Doggett began making his way 
towards the door, keeping one hand on the wall to keep his 
bearings.  

******

Scully raced to keep up with the suspect.  She heard another 
door slam and knew he'd exited the stairwell.  

Down below, Doggett heard the same thing.  "Agent Scully!" he 
called, clinging to the railing as he started up the steps.  "I 
called for backup!  Wait for help!"  

******

Scully stepped carefully through the doorway holding her weapon 
pointed carefully at the ceiling.  "Federal Agent!  Come out 
with your hands up!"  As the door clicked shut behind her, 
Scully noticed that the incense smell they'd detected downstairs 
was stronger here.  A second later, something heavy hit her 
shoulder.  She raised her arm to defend herself and the second 
blow rendered the entire limb numb and sent her gun skittering 
across the floor.  

She had a fleeting image of a tall, dark-skinned man with wild 
hair as she scrambled to her feet.  

******

Doggett heard the muffled sound of a body hitting the floor and 
tried to move faster.  He tripped over a loose stair tread and 
fell heavily to his knees.  The pain was sharp and immediate.  
"Scully!" he bellowed.  

"In here!" she shrieked.  Her voice was closer now and he 
determinedly dragged himself to his feet.  

******

Scully backpedaled towards the wall, trying to keep an eye on 
her assailant and locate her fallen weapon at the same time.  He 
pursued her relentlessly, muttering something very rapidly in a 
language she didn't understand.  He brandished a carved wooden 
staff of some sort.  As she watched, bewildered, the smell of 
incense grew suffocatingly strong.  Suddenly it seemed to Scully 
that the tall man before her carried a large, writhing snake.  

Scully took one more step backwards and her shoulders bumped the 
wall.  She screamed.  

******

"Scully, where are you?" Doggett yelled.  

"Stay back - he's armed!" she called back raggedly.  

Following the sound of her voice, Doggett kicked in the door and 
staggered into the room.  Pointing his gun at the ceiling, he 
fired a single shot.  "Federal Agent!"  

The dark man only laughed again and the serpent in his hands 
lunged at Scully's face, hissing and spitting.  

She shrieked again and Doggett turned towards the sound, 
bringing his gun to bear.  "Agent Scully, where is he?"  

"Directly in front of me!"  

He adjusted his aim slightly.  "Scully, get down!" he shouted.  

Scully dropped to the floor, shielding her head as he fired 
three shots in rapid succession.  The reports echoed loudly in 
the small room and the stink of cordite filled the air.  
Scully's eyes widened as she realized that she hadn't heard a 
body hit the floor, and indeed, there was no body to be seen.  
She whirled around to check the wall behind where she'd been 
standing and saw that there were no bullet holes in the dingy 
plaster.  Shakily, she rose to her feet.  

Doggett slowly exhaled and lowered his weapon.  Their suspect 
was nowhere in sight.  The room was empty except for himself and 
Agent Scully...Scully, with her vivid Titian hair and clear blue 
eyes.  He holstered his sidearm and reached out and cupped her 
face in his hand.  "Dana Scully, you are the most beautiful 
sight I've ever seen," he breathed.  

A radiant smile brightened her features.  "You can see me?" she 
whispered tremulously. 

"Yeah," Doggett nodded.  Grinning broadly, he suddenly enveloped 
Scully in an enormous bear hug, lifting her clear off the floor.  
Scully locked her arms around Doggett's neck as he crowed 
joyously, "I can see!"  

******************************************




THE J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Dana Scully was seated at Mulder's desk going over a draft of 
her report.  There was no trace of the suspect Agent Doggett had 
shot in the warehouse, but the killings had stopped, and that 
was enough to satisfy the local authorities.  She looked up and 
smiled as Agent Doggett arrived.  "How'd it go?" she asked.  

"The doctors can't find anything wrong with my eyesight."  

"That's good news," Scully reminded him.  

"Oh, yeah," he agreed fervently.  "Thing is, they also can't 
find any evidence of my ever having lost my sight or anything 
that would explain what happened to me.  You don't look 
surprised."  

Scully laughed quietly.  "Agent Doggett, after seven years on 
this project, I'm surprised when something actually does have a 
logical explanation.  I'm just glad that you're all right."  

"I am, thank you.  I still don't understand what happened to me, 
but I wanted to apologize.  My behavior this last case 
was...less than professional at times.  If I said or did 
anything to offend you..."  

"You were under a great deal of stress," Scully excused him.  

"You're very kind, Agent Scully," Doggett said warmly.  

"No," Scully replied with an impish grin, "I'm your partner."  


Fin.  

Copyright (c) 2000 Kathleen Klatte
All Rights Reserved