TITLE: Recovery AUTHOR: Anna Greenway EMAIL: a_greenway1318@yahoo.com.au CATEGORY: Roadrunners Missing Scene RATING: PG SUMMARY: Doggett is at the hospital after saving Scully's life. DISCLAIMER: The X-Files isn't mine, I'm not making money etc ARCHIVE: Please let me know. ************ I'd been waiting for ages before anyone came. They'd rushed Agent Scully in, unconscious, over an hour ago. The nurse had told me to wait. The word sounds easy enough, but it's easier said than done. I stood around, anxiously shifting my feet for a few minutes before a nurse gave me a sympathetic look. About twenty seconds after that she had led me to a chair in the waiting room and forced me to sit down. The coffee she brought me was among the worst tasting in the country, but it didn't matter. My mind was on Scully. I didn't understand any of it. I didn't understand where I'd gone wrong in our partnership. I knew she hadn't wanted me as a partner, of course, but I had hoped that we had come to some kind of middle ground. Until I'd got the phone call. She said she didn't want my help. In any other situation, with any other partner, I might have believed her reason. I was no scientist, and so my opinion was worthless. But in Agent Scully's case, it was definitely more than that. She was one strong woman. Everyone around her is trying to help, and all she can do is push them all away. I don't get it. "She your partner?" I looked up at the nurse, suddenly remembering she was there. "Yeah," I said, but I didn't offer any more information. "For how long?" the nurse asked. She re-positioned herself in the chair, trying to get more comfortable. I don't know why she bothered. The chairs weren't built for comfort. "About a month," I answered. The nurse nodded. I hoped she wasn't going to ask any complicated questions that I wasn't ready to answer. Which was anything relating to why I was assigned. Luckily, she didn't. "I've been working here for nearly ten years. I've seen some pretty weird stuff, but what happened to her still rates pretty high. I don't know how people can do that. It makes no sense to me." I shrugged and leant over, looking at the floor again. I didn't know, either. I thought of Monica. If I called her she'd probably be able to give me a long explanation of cult behaviour and how the people came under its influence. And as a theory, it works. It all makes sense when written in a text book, but when I go to apply it to that group we'd encountered, nothing would ever make sense. The nurse said nothing more after that. We fell in to a comfortable silence. In some kind of way, I think she understood. As a nurse, she'd probably been exposed to awful things on a daily basis. And as an FBI agent and cop, I'd had the same. We both knew the extent of human cruelty and how twisted people could get. And when you think about, there's always a logical explanation, but when you really think about it, no explanation is ever satisfying. She sat with me in silence for another ten minutes before a doctor came out. He located me and walked over, lowering his clipboard to his side. His eyes went to the nurse first, and then back to me. "We've moved Miss Scully to a room. You can see her, but only for a few minutes." I instantly got to my feet. I muttered a thanks to the doctor and nurse, and then moved off to see my partner. ************ She was hooked up to a bunch of monitors. Her face was way too pale, and it scared me to think about how much blood she had lost. Her head rolled around, and her eyes met mine. She then looked around at the rest of her room and grimaced. I forced my feet to move and made my way to her side. I rested my hands on the edge of the bed. I would have liked to have held her hand, but I wasn't sure whether she was drugged enough to let me. So I kept my hands close to hers, but I still allowed her the space I knew she'd want. "How are you feeling?" I asked. She looked me in the eye and opened her mouth to answer, but then she shut it again, as if reconsidering. "I'll live." I think that was the closest she was going to get to admitting that she felt awful. But I wasn't complaining. That was a start. I was scared that she wouldn't talk to me and would deny pain at all. Sounds awful, but after she wouldn't talk to me about the case, it wouldn't have surprised me. "The police are searching the place," I said. "They're pretty confident they're going to find enough evidence to prove they were responsible for the body that was found." "The two bodies," she said, almost in a whisper. She looked away sadly and then closed her eyes for a second. I put two and two together and knew she was thinking of Hank, the guy who we'd been looking for. There was a silence. I wanted to comfort her, but I found myself hesitating. "You'll need to give a statement. When you're feeling better." She opened her eyes. "I wouldn't know where to begin." There was another uneasy silence. I don't think we'd quite mastered the level of easy conversation between us yet. I leant over a little, and took a chance by putting my hand gently over hers. "At least you're all right." She met my eyes, but didn't smile. "I have you to thank." Again, a strange expression crossed her face and she looked away, clearly uncomfortable. It was as though she was angry with herself. I was caught between being annoyed with her and completely forgiving her out of relief that she was alive. I knew that when things settled down with details of the case and her recovery, we'd have to sort out our partnership. But not yet. Not when she'd just been admitted to hospital and still obviously had too much on her mind. I squeezed her hand, and without looking at me, she twisted her hand around and squeezed mine back. "Get some sleep," I said gently. She closed her eyes and I let go of her hand. Then I watched her for a few seconds before walking out of the room. ************ The End.