Welcome To The Harem

Ilium Fruit by Bobbi
Summary: I don't know when I'll get around to acceptin' that any `justice' that Lukesh may see won't bring you back. Written for the Harem Six Feet Under challenge.

TITLE: Ilium Fuit
AUTHOR: Bobbi AmericanPadme@aol.com
SUMMARY: I don't know when I'll get around to acceptin' that
any `justice' that Lukesh may see won't bring you back.
KEYWORDS: AU, Doggett, Reyes, DRR (implied), character death,
Doggett POV
DISCLAIMER: Even though Chris may be done with them, that
unfortunately doesn't make them mine.
ARCHIVE: E-mail me and ask.
FEEDBACK: Compliments and criticisms will be welcomed at
AmericanPadme@aol.com - all feedback will be replied to - eventually.
SPOILERS: 4-D, Season Nine
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written for the Harem `Six Feet Under'
challenge number two. I chose to place Doggett at Monica's funeral
in the parallel universe in 4-D. The title, Latin for "Ilium has
been" was said of Troy after its destruction; it is now applied to
anything that is past and gone. As hard as the subject matter was
for me after the recent death of one of my best friends, this was a
challenge I wanted to try.


Open casket. I guess I was kinda hopin'... that it'd be closed.
That that'd be one pain I would be spared. Staring into your face,
now forever asleep, and knowing that you, too, have followed my son
into the oblivion that lies after death.

They managed to fix you up - sew up your throat. This isn't how I
want to remember you. I don't want to remember you lyin' here,
lifeless, pale, white as porcelain. I don't wanna remember you as I
walked past you and saw your throat bleeding so badly that I knew it
was beyond repair.

I hope you understand me leavin' you there with Brad - ultimately, to
die. I had to get revenge. I couldn't let the man who killed you go
on. I had to see justice served, in whatever form that may be. I
don't know when I'll get around to acceptin' that any `justice' that
Lukesh may see won't bring you back.

I blame only myself now. For selfishly bringin' you here, taking you
away from the actual life you had back in New Orleans. Damnit,
Monica, I brought you here to help me, and I ended up killing you.
If I wouldn't have asked, if I wouldn't have brought you here to find
Scully's dead man.

Maybe it's selfish of me to say, but I'd rather have Mulder be the
dead one than you. Monica, you were always so selfless. I can't
remember a time when you looked out for yourself. It was always
everybody else.

Damn your selflessness, Monica. Damn your willingness to drop
everything you knew to come here and help me. Damn the way your eyes
sparkled when you looked at me, because now I'll never know if it
meant anything. And damn my inability to move forward from things
past to tell you how I actually felt, how much you actually meant to

Dead. I've never been able to accept it as final; still can't. I
never let go of Luke, and I'll never be able to let go of you. How
ironic, in the way that the evil irony of the world is, that the
woman who found my son, the woman who helped me see meaning in life
when I saw none, is now dead. Because of me.

Sure, Lukesh killed you, Lukesh was the one who held the knife, who
slashed your throat - but it was me who brought you here. I brought
you here. I brought you here for some goddamn quest that shouldn't
even be mine. I brought you to this godforsaken office to chase
spaceships and things I never believed in - but most of all, I
brought you because I had to see you.

An' then when I saw you, I couldn't tell you. I brought you here to
tell you what I never could. That I love you.

I guess I'm hopin' that this is some kind of bad dream. That I'll
wake up soon enough, and you'll be there.

That you'll sigh your sigh, smile your smile, your eyes will light up
when you look at me... and I'll tell you.

Ever since it happened, you've been my waking and sleeping thought.
When I'm thinkin' about something else, you're still there. You're
in my mind all the time.

If there was only something, anything...

But in this cruel world, there's nothing.

I never imagined, when I brought here, that you'd end up like Luke.
In what turned out to be the final chapter of your life, I never
coulda dreamed that you'd end up six feet under.

You were the only one who could convince me to more forward. From
here on, it'll only be backward.