Title: Deadly Lover Mine 
Author: Raven Morgan Leigh
Pairing: Doggett/Other Doggett/Skinner,& Reyes, Scully Partnership
Rating: R
Type: Slash
Status: WIP Part 2
Archive: Yes
Disclaimers: I Don't Own Any Of These Characters, But I Like To 
Write About Them... I Assure You, I'm Still *Poor*. 

Summary: Doggett's Rescued From A Deadly Lover... And Himself.


DEADLY LOVER, MINE...


PART 1: 

***
Doggett had thought that Skinner's manner toward him had been 
thawing of late, and so when he showed up at the A.D.'s office late 
that afternoon, he was surprised at the man's seeming hostility. 

Skinner scowled at Doggett over the wire rime frames of his 
glasses. " Agent Doggett." 

" A.D. Skinner. " Doggett acknowledged. Oh, what the hell is this, 
Doggett wondered, mentally running over the cases he was working on; 
trying to remember if he could possibly have missed something, or if 
he'd breached some arcane bit of protocol recently.

Skinner shoved a file across the desk towards his agent. 

Cautiously, Doggett snagged the file, opened it.  It contained 
pictures. He took a good look. He couldn't believe what he was 
seeing.  For a moment he couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. He felt 
lightheaded. Sick.

" Do you want to explain this to me, Agent Doggett?" Skinner asked, 
sounding dangerous. 

Doggett's eyes widened, and he glanced up at the Assistant 
Director.  He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  He 
tried again. " I...I.. can't.. I don't know..." He rasped, trying hard 
to control the fit of trembling he knew was coming on. 

It was all  beginning to make a weird kind of  sense, now... the 
nightmares, the unexplained sense of fear when he was alone, his 
jumpiness at being touched... and the pain he'd been in for the last 
few days. He hadn't dared let himself feel it. He'd suspected what 
it was... but it looked like he'd been wrong. Dead wrong. 

" Agent Doggett?"  Skinner's voice was softer, this time. " Are you 
telling me you have no knowledge of this? Of what happened to put 
you in these pictures?" 

Doggett reeled, flashes of pain reverberating  through his head, 
through his body.. remembered pain...being drugged, grogginess, and 
then the beating... and.. and..

He rose unsteadily to his feet, and began trying to back away for 
the A.D.'s desk. 

" Doggett? John?" 

" No...no..stay away..." He moaned, and the next thing he'd fallen;  he 
was on all fours, blindly trying to figure out where he was, only 
someone had him, and wouldn't let him go, and there were hands on 
him, and oh God, this was going to hurt so much... he struck out 
wildly, and caught something. Then he struggled as he was forced 
down onto the floor. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't get his 
breath. Someone was forcing something over his face and he couldn't 
breathe...

Everything went dark. 

***

" John?" 

Doggett heard the voice from very far away. He didn't want to open 
his eyes. He didn't want to have to remember. Didn't want to have to 
explain.

" C'mon, John." Weary, concerned voice. 

A cold cloth was gently draped across Doggett's forehead. It dripped 
a little, water ran into his hair, tickled his ear, it made him 
shiver. He opened his eyes, and the A.D.  was there. He wasn't 
wearing his glasses, and looked exhausted. He also had a nasty 
bruise, one eye was developing quite a shiner. 

Even the dim lighting hurt, and Doggett winced at it. 

" Are you back? " Skinner asked quietly. He eased himself into a 
rather plush chair beside the bed.

Doggett nodded ,warily. " Where..." he rasped, tried again," ...where 
am I? " 

Skinner ducked his head for a moment, ran his hand over his face. " 
I ... we-- took you to my place. You're in my guest room. I didn't 
really know what else to do with you." 

"Scully knows? Monica? " Doggett asked, dismayed.

" Yeah." Skinner said, " I had her check you out. Agent Reyes... 
Monica is worried sick. They're  in my living room. I've been trying 
to get Scully to get some rest...of course, she won't do that till she 
knows you're all right.  I did manage to get her to take a break." 

"Christ. How long have I been here? " Doggett asked, feeling 
stronger. 

" We got you here right after your ... episode in my office. It's 
pretty late, John."  

" Episode?" 

" You went into some sort of daze.. shock...we managed to walk you out 
of the building and to my car before you passed out." 

Skinner reached out towards Doggett, and Doggett flinched. He 
couldn't help it. Then he saw that the A.D. had only been reaching 
for his glasses which were sitting on the bedside table. 

" John." Skinner's voice was soft, unwontedly so. 

Doggett couldn't trust himself to look at the man, he could feel 
himself tearing up.  He wasn't cut out for this sort of melodramatic 
crap, but here he was, losing it... because.. because what? 

Because you fucked up, that's why.

" John?" 

Oh, God, no...

"Get him!"

Betrayal. The worst betrayal.

Hands on him, not letting him up.. he was fighting, struggling but 
he was outnumbered. 

" Hold him down!" 

Doggett was screaming obscenities as his jeans were undone, and 
ripped down his legs.. 

Legs brutally forced apart...

Blinding pain... again, and again, and again, and again...

***

He was huddled in a corner in Skinner's guest room. In defensive 
mode. Bedcovers trailed from the bed to his feet, he'd pulled them 
with him when he'd panicked. Dana Scully wanted to go to him, but 
Doggett was just too panicked, too dangerous. 

Skinner was afraid to tackle the man, it would be too easy to really 
cause him damage if Doggett  went all out. And Skinner didn't think 
he needed to feel any sort of threat from a man, especially not one 
quite a bit bigger than he was. 

" Agent Doggett!" Scully said, as soothingly as she could, "We need 
you to be calm, it's okay. You're not in any danger here. You're 
safe."  She tried for calmness, but inside she was terrified. What 
had happened to this man, so strong and unflappable... to put him in 
this state? Judging from Skinner's description of the first 
breakdown in his office, Scully had a very sick feeling that she 
might know what was going on.  

Doggett's breath came in harsh gasps.  He seemed to be looking at 
something no-one else could see. A shudder ran though him, and he 
groaned. 

Monica Reyes stood nearby, her face deadly white.  She seemed torn 
between the urge to go to Doggett or breaking down into tears 
herself. She threw an enraged look at Scully. 

God help whoever had done this to her partner. 

But Doggett was wilting, now.. the storm seemed to be waning. His 
eyes were dulling, his mouth growing slack. His knees buckled and he 
collapsed and lay still, breathing  raggedly.  Scully kneeled at his 
side, not quite wanting to touch just yet, just observing. 
Doggett's eyes were open, but held no hint of awareness of his 
surroundings.  He seemed to simply be worn out, and going back into 
shock. 

Scully snagged one of the blankets, and very gently laid it over the 
prone body. He shuddered again, but made no move to defend himself. 

Is he cycling through whatever ordeal he went through? Scully 
wondered,  watching him closely as his breathing began to slow, and 
his eyes slid closed. 

" I need my bag, " She said quietly to Reyes, who left quickly. 

" What the hell is this, Scully?" Skinner asked, worry and sadness 
plainly evident in his voice.  He was still keeping his distance 
from the younger man, not wanting to send him into another attack. " 
Do we need to get him to a hospital?" 

" Maybe." Scully said shortly. "But I'm worried for his safety. We 
don't know exactly what happened, who did this..."

Reyes returned, medical bag in hand. 

Scully took it, fished out a hypodermic needle and a vial. " This 
should calm him down enough for us to figure out what has to be 
done."  She filled the hypo, and used a medi-swab to clean a spot on 
Doggett's forearm. Doggett's eyes flashed open, and be began to 
shake. 

"Hold him, help me out, here." Scully snapped. 

This time Skinner didn't hesitate. He grabbed the agent and 
immobilized him, pinning his arms to his sides. Doggett jerked once 
as Scully plunged the needle home. Doggett moaned something 
unintelligible, trying desperately to escape from Skinner. Skinner 
just held him, murmuring soothing nonsense into Doggett's ear, and 
finally the agent's struggles began to weaken until he lay slumped 
in Skinner's arms. 

***

Skinner and Reyes sat at the dining room table, drinking coffee. 
Skinner had brought the file from the office, figuring that he might 
need some input from his other two agents. 

" Okay, so looking at these pictures, we can see that this is Agent 
Doggett's house. " Reyes said.  She pointed to one of the 
pictures. "He looks drugged, out of it. And here... this doesn't look 
like passion to me. It looks like agony."  She swallowed hard, 
obviously trying to stay in professional mode. " How Kersh could 
possibly have thought this was something other than a..."  She 
couldn't say it. 

" It's also interesting that the photographer managed to make sure 
the only recognizable face in the photos is Agent Doggett's." Reyes 
added.

" This is the note that was sent to Kersh," Skinner said , handing 
her a small, square of paper. She read the message out loud.

Kinky Agents make headlines.
Do you want this sort 
of publicity for the F.B.I ?

"Okay, so I can see why Kersh might have jumped to conclusions. But 
looking at the pictures...I mean, there are at least four other men in 
these photos, and Agent Doggett not only looks drugged , but also as 
if he's being forced." Reyes said, heavily.

Scully entered the dining room. She looked worn, exhausted.

Reyes and Skinner both looked up at her, worry plain on their faces. 

" He's doing better. Resting." Scully answered the unasked question. 
"I took the liberty of ... examining him while he was out. " Her mouth 
twisted in distaste. "It's obvious from the contusions and bruising 
around his torso and pelvis, that Agent Doggett was raped. There's 
some superficial tearing of the... rectal tissue, not too serious, 
still I'd like to get him on antibiotics to ward off any possible 
infection. It was most likely a serial rape. No fluids were present, 
and it's too late to do a rape kit."  Scully sighed, wearily. She 
ambled over to the table, and took a chair. 

Reyes and Skinner sat dumbly, but the expressions on both their 
faces were of sadness and anger.

"Because of his mental state," Scully continued, "I'd like to get 
him to a hospital where I can run a tox screen on him, other tests. 
He could be mildly concussed. He has faint ligature marks on his 
wrists and ankles, indicating the presence of a soft rope to hold 
him down...whoever did this didn't want obvious marking." 

She took a deep breath, not liking what she knew she had to 
say. "There's something I don't understand. Even if Agent Doggett 
blocked out the memory of the rape, he had to be feeling the effects 
of it...this had to have happened very recently... most likely in the 
last three or four days. How could he not have realized something 
was wrong? He had to be in a great deal of pain." 

Skinner stared at her, uncomprehendingly. Then slowly a light dawned 
in his eyes, and he bowed his head quickly , cursing under his 
breath. 

Reyes understood, and simply buried her head in her hands. " Oh, 
God, John." 

Skinner was grim. "This has either happened before... and it's someone 
he knows...or he's been engaging in behavior that would explain his 
injuries... at least to him."  

" Yes, but who?" Scully asked, eyebrows raised. "Who would do this?"

Reyes said in a small voice, "I didn't think he'd been seeing 
anyone... he's pretty much kept to himself since his divorce."

" That's what we're going to have to find out," Skinner said, rising 
from his chair. " I'm going to go make some calls. Somebody get in 
there with him. I don't want Doggett left alone." 

***

Reyes sat at Doggett's bedside, musing over the night's revelations. 
In sleep the agent's face seemed calm, relaxed. Almost peaceful. 

What have you been doing to  yourself, John?  Reyes wondered. Things 
were beginning to add up. 

All the assorted "football" injuries---as an explanation for the 
stiffness in his movements. Black eyes. 

Bruised chest...she'd seen that once, when he'd had to change in front 
of her while they were working a case together. 

Something that had looked like ..welts, on his back. Explained away. 
Caught by brush while fishing. A fall. 

She frowned, remembering something... John's reaction to a fellow 
agent, who had been working in Violent Crimes, where Doggett had 
been before being assigned to the X-Files.  Tall, dark haired. 

John had seemed...strange, almost...diffident...around this man, when 
he'd shown up in their basement office to ask about a possible 
connection to an odd series of rape cases.

Skinner stood in the doorway, motioned to Reyes. She followed him 
out into the hallway. Scully was with him, looking as grim as Monica 
had ever seen her. 

The A.D. spoke in a near whisper. "I did some digging, made a few 
calls. There's .. an agent that Doggett's been seeing...romantically." 
Skinner's face shaded to red.  "It seems however, that this guy... 
well, there's some rumors about his sexual proclivities... and also 
about what's happened to some of his, ah...lovers. He was almost up on 
charges at one point, but the complainant ...disappeared." 

Reyes' brow furrowed. "Do you have a description of this man? Was he 
tall, dark hair... mustache?" 

" Yes. You've seen him?" Skinner asked.

" He came by the office, looking for assistance on a case. I'd never 
seen John behave so strangely. It was almost as if he was afraid of 
the guy, but attracted to him as well." Monica frowned. " I'm trying 
to remember his name... but it's been a few months since I met him." 

"Whitechapel?" Skinner supplied.

"That's right!" Reyes breathed, eyes wide. "Eddy...Edward. He's got an 
odd accent, like he grew up in England or something." 

" Why is he still working with the Bureau?" Scully asked. 

"That's what I'd like to know." Skinner said, scowling. 


***

It was morning, and Doggett opened his eyes to see Skinner by his 
bedside again. The big man was sleeping in the chair. It couldn't 
have been comfortable. 

Maybe he could get out of here before the questions started. He just 
wasn't feeling up to the questions he knew were coming. Not now. 
Maybe not ever.

Sitting up painfully, Doggett watched the A.D.'s eyes flutter, then 
focus on him. 

Busted, Doggett thought. He tried a wry grin, knew he was grimacing 
instead. 

"How are you feeling?" Skinner asked, quietly. 

" Been better." Doggett answered. His throat felt raw. Had he been 
screaming?  He decided Good Old Fashioned Southern Charm might help 
him out, here.  That and a good dose of luck. Maybe he could get out 
of here with his skin intact.  " Sir, I'm truly sorry to have put 
you through all this for me,"  he said, " I'll get my stuff and be 
out of here." 

" Riiight." Skinner said, dryly. "I don't think so, agent. We need 
to talk." 

" I can't." Panicked. The words were out before Doggett could stop 
himself. 

" You're going to have to talk to me, there's too much at stake 
here. And it's not just you that I'm worried about." Skinner seemed 
to be trying to be gentle, but the command mode was beginning to 
come through with every word.  "Look, Agent Doggett, I don't care 
about what your sexual habits are, not unless they get in the way of 
the performance of your duties. Today, they have. Now, what the 
hell's going on with you and Whitechapel?" 

Doggett felt all the blood drain from his face at Skinner's words. 
He knew! That meant Monica.. and Scully and God only knew who else. 

" It's okay, John. Just tell the truth." 

Doggett's head snapped up. He was nothing if not scrupulously 
honest.  At least with others, even if not always to himself. 
Lately. 

You want plain speakin', Skinner ?  The truth? Well, let's see how 
well you handle it. 

"You wanna hear me say that I've been letting this fella fuck me up 
the ass for months, is that what it is?" Doggett snarled.  "That 
sometimes I got so drunk I blacked out and can't remember what the 
hell he did to me? He's a real heavy top, and sometimes he hurt me, 
and I let him. I let him because I needed it. It kept me fucking 
sane."  Doggett was yelling now, and he stopped, hearing himself. 

I sound crazy, even to myself, Doggett thought.

Skinner didn't seem that surprised. That scared Doggett, a little. 

"Why?" Skinner asked, simply. 

" I...after Luke, after my marriage... Everything seemed to hurt. I 
thought I was gonna go crazy. It started out so .. easy. It got to 
be more and more intense. It's just that I... I was so lonely... so 
goddamned lonely..."  Doggett broke off, ashamed. He felt absolutely 
pathetic.

Skinner kept his voice gentle.  "And why would he try to destroy 
you?"

"I broke it off with him. It...it got to be too much. He started 
wantin' to get...kinky. Wanted to play with...toys, and... other things. 
Wanted to watch me with other men." Doggett's voice broke.  His 
hands shook, and he could feel his eyes tearing up again.  

He took a deep breath to steady himself, and was proud that he 
managed to look the A.D. in the eye. " He brought that on and I 
figured enough was enough. I broke it off with him.  Said if he kept 
botherin' me, I'd report him. He was... actin' scary.  Crazy. Said I 
was his. He told me there was no way he'd ever let me do break up 
with him, and that I'd never file a complaint against him, he'd make 
certain of it. I guess he was right, because my career's ruined." 
Doggett  gritted his teeth. 

" No, it's not, John." Skinner said, sincerely,  and  Doggett threw 
Skinner a sardonic look.  

Skinner fixed Doggett with a look.  "We don't kick people out of the 
F.B.I. for being gay, not anymore. Public indiscretion, a reprimand, 
maybe. Sometimes, if it's bad enough... yes, you could lose your job 
over it."  

The A.D. was quiet a moment. "There's a pattern to Whitechapel's 
behavior, did you know that? He's done this before to other people, 
but never an agent. At least that's according to some very scary 
rumors. A few of those people he's said to have dated seem to have 
gone missing." 

"That can't be.." Doggett murmured, shocked. 

" Well, actually--" Skinner said heavily, "--we're not even sure of 
what his real identity is. His credentials turned out to bogus. 
Faked. Very slick. There's also a string of unsolved cases 
surrounding this man."

" Unsolved cases?" Doggett asked in a small voice.

"Rapes, murders." Skinner cleared his throat and looked Doggett in 
the eye. "Of other men."

" Holy God." Doggett whispered. " I never...I never..."

" We don't know where he is, he seems to have disappeared.  So 
you're staying here, where we can keep an eye on you."  

"I've...I've been an idiot, sir."  Doggett stared at the blankets. He 
looked up at Skinner, expecting to see revulsion and censure. 

Surprisingly, Skinner slowly took Doggett's hand in his own. "It 
happens, John. It happens to the best of us." He squeezed Doggett's 
hand gently, and released it. " I'll bet you're hungry. I know I am. 
There's some soup in the kitchen, courtesy of your partner. You'll 
be alright up here for a bit?" 

" I'm not an invalid, Skinner."  Doggett retorted, ignoring 
Skinner's dubious look.  "I'll just come down, if you don't mind." 

He started to swing back the covers, and then stopped. " Uh, 
Skinner? Uhmm, where the hell are my pants?" 


***