Subject: NEW: Coming Back Soon 1/1 by Hilary Storm Date: 14 Aug 1999 21:54:40 -0700 From: starbuck1013@hotmail.com (Hilary Storm) Organization: None Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative From: "Hilary Storm" Title: Coming Back Soon Author: Hilary Storm E-mail: starbuck819@yahoo.com Homepage: http://hilsxfiles.mainpage.net Category: pre-xf Key Words: Scully/family Rating: G Distribution: Anywhere…just let me know where so I can visit Feedback: Please take a quick minute to tell me you read the story. I love all the mail I get and I answer to almost anything. Disclaimer: The characters found here are not mine. They belong to Chris Carter, and he belongs to FOX. The song 'Coming Back Soon' is from the very talented Randy Stonehill. That too is not mine. Summary: Bill Scully Sr. finds himself having trouble juggling his work life, and his life at home. Is his life in the Navy worth it, or is he missing the important things? ****************** Coming Back Soon By Hilary Storm ****************** COMING BACK SOON Morning steals the night The sun breaks through the rain A little girl is sleeping While I pack to meet my plane Then I kneel down by her bed And I kiss her sleepy head She hugs me tight She knows I'm going away CHORUS: She says "tell me you're coming back soon Now don't forget me I want to be with you If you'll tell me you're coming back soon Then while you're gone The days won't seem so long" I watch my little girl And start to understand How God looks down from heaven And we're children in His eyes Even though we're far apart He left behind His heart Like a promise to return for us someday CHORUS: I know sometimes she feels so lost without me The world is such a big confusing place And it's then I pray she'll do the things I taught her Remember right from wrong Remember daddy's face I know I'm going home And hunger for that day Just like the Lord is waiting And He longs to hear us say She says "tell me you're coming back soon Now don't forget me I want to be with you If you'll tell me you're coming back soon Then while you're gone The days won't seem so long" WRITTEN BY RANDY STONEHILL(c) 1988 STONEHILLIAN MUSIC/WORD MUSIC *** I drum my fingers against the steering wheel and briefly wish for the command of a few dozen torpedoes to clear up the four o'clock traffic that is slowing me down. Just the image of cars parting like the Red Sea to grant me a passage home makes me press the accelerator slightly harder against the bumper-to-bumper traffic. I know it is going to take me longer than normal on this Fourth of July weekend, but the traffic is the worst in years. I glance over at the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat next to me and take a quick inventory of the gifts inside. Maggie tells me repeatedly over the phone that I will spoil the kids this way, but I cannot help myself. I have been gone months in a row, coming home for holidays, most of the time anyway, and the swell of gilt washes over me each time I see their little faces as I live away again. I chose this lifestyle, but they did not. Moreover, in choosing so I am all too aware of how it affects everything I love. This morning, as soon as I got off ship, I took a detour to a small toy store ran by a kind faced old man, and I quickly picked out four toys. I took a little extra care this time though. It boggles my mind at how quickly my kids grow up during the time I am away. I noted that toy dolls were not on the list of things for even my youngest daughter and shuffled through the shelves of toys. The boys were easy enough. A new baseball glove and ball for Bill, and a plastic boat for Charlie would do the trick. I knew instantly that I made the right choices. Then I moved on to the girls. This was getting difficult. I didn't know what little girls liked. The doll I gave Missy for her birthday, though well received with a smile, was not the perfect toy I expected it to be. What would little girls like? I moved away from the dolls and stuffed animals and into the unisex area. Model airplanes, candle making kits, and a pile of coloring books were the first things I saw, and I was about ready to go back to the dolls when something caught my eye. Towards the end of the shelf covered in a layer of dust sat an old magic set. It had a crude picture of a man with a long curly mustache pulling a rabbit out of a hat. It boasted ten different tricks, and even included coupons for an expansion set or two. I threw that into the small shopping basket and started looking for a present for my youngest daughter. She was an enigma to me. I planned to take the boys out to play baseball when I came home last spring and found my five-year-old daughter standing in the front yard. She had on one of the boys 'I'm a Navy Brat' cap and a plastic glove her mother must have bought her. Bill was already in the car, and I had just finished strapping Charlie into his car seat when I saw her standing under the shade tree. She was fiddling with the ties that held the glove together, and making a big deal about not looking at me. A second later she dropped the glove and ran into the house. I then remembered the excited look she got during lunch when I told her brothers about our outing. I told Bill to watch Charlie then I followed Dana into the house. A quick look through the house told me she was up in her room. I ascended the stairs and slipped through her open door. Missy was at a friend's house so the room was empty except for us, though for a moment, I thought she must have gone somewhere else because she wasn't in sight. I turned to leave when I heard a little voice. "Don't go Daddy." It was only a whisper, and I thought I heard it coming from under the bed. I crouched down, expecting to find her jammed under it, instead looking at her feet as she sat us underneath the hollow wooden backboard. There was just enough room for a small child to hunker down between the wall and backboard to hide. "What are you doing down there, Dane?" I asked her using the name I knew she liked the most. "Looking at something." She answered vaguely. I couldn't see her face, but her voice was shaky as if she had been crying the moment before. Sitting with my back against the wall, I thought a moment about what to say. Maggie was always better at talking to the kids. She would know what to say, what to ask, and afterwards the world would be perfect again. "What are you looking at?" I said. I tried to keep my voice soft. "A cat-er-piller." She stumbled over the word. "I can't get it off me." "Can I help?" "No." "Why not?" "It doesn't like you." "Dana Katherine Scully, I think it is about time you get out from under there." I said. She had a way of hiding what mood she was in, but I wasn't in the humor for it myself. She must get that from her mother. "Yes sir." She said, keeping the sarcasm out of her voice as she felt a measure of fear. I gave her room to wiggle out from her safe haven out to the open room. Her hat was off, still under the bed I guessed, and her red hair was held back by two green barrettes on either side. Her pale face was speckled with golden freckles, and a bruise she got from falling out of a tree the other day marred her otherwise white skin. She stood up at attention, eyes cast downward at her shirt and the mishap found there. With yellow hair, black underbelly, and a will of its own, the caterpillar was clinging for dear life to the front of my little girls green tank top. Dislodging the 'beast', as she called it, was more difficult than first thought. It was only difficult because she insisted on helping me through the entire process. I had her run and get a jar from the kitchen cupboard, poke a few holes in the lid, and stuff the thing into it. That day we had the time of our lives. Dana held her own against her brothers at baseball, and I found out Bill had been helping her play ball in the backyard while I was away. I had the pleasant hum of fatherhood running through my blood as I watched them run around and play in the baseball diamond. Thinking back to the store, I remember right next to where I found the magic kit was a miniature science kit. I lifted the box and flipped it around to look at the back. It wasn't an extensive kit. It contained a hand lens, instructions for some simple household experiments and the necessary vials to hold them in, and a little flip book to write your findings in. It was perfect. I finally pull off the main road and into the base where we live. It seems forever before the gate opens and the young cocky guard lets me through with a smile. I don't come by enough for him to remember who I was before the ID check, but I am sure he knows my wife by name. At least my kids would remember who I am. The worse scare of my life was when Dana was little, just old enough to walk. She was out in the front yard playing with a ball or something, I can't remember. She watched me warily as I pulled up, obviously not used to the site. I was in my menacing naval uniform, and didn't wait for her to get used to the sight. I hadn't seen her since her birthday months before. I couldn't wait to hold her and after being gone so long I must have seemed like a kidnapper in my mad rush. As soon as she got it in her head I was some stranger she began to wail, walking as fast as she could with her chubby arms flailing at her side to the open door and her mother standing in it. I had thought to comfort her and hurried even faster. She let out a shriek, which I was sure the entire base heard, and stumbled the rest of the way up to Maggie and launched herself into her waiting arms. I will never forget that or the look on Maggie's face. Nor will I forget the talk we had that night. I enter our block and begin to get restless. I know it is silly thinking, but I can't help running the scenario of my own children not knowing who their daddy is. I can't help but see them look at me as a stranger or even worse, as a kidnapper as my Dana did. I see my house and all of my insecurities disappear with the breeze of wind coming through my open car window. It is just as how I left it. The mailbox, tree, even the flowerpot on the front steps are there if not a bit bigger than I remember. I pull into my driveway and park the car, quickly shutting it off and getting out. As I climb the front steps, I hear a little voice from behind me and slightly elevated. I recognize it as my Dana's clear, though childlike voice. "Daddy! I'm in the tree. Come catch me!" She squeals. A weight lifts from my chest, as I am relieved my worries were unfounded. I run over to the tree and feel my heart skips a beat at the sight of her hanging by her legs from a branch. She has on the unmistakable 'Scully Smile' and I put my own on when I am sure she isn't in any immediate danger. "You look like a monkey." I tease. She makes a monkey face at me and I make one back to her delight. "I was waiting up here for you so I could see the car coming first. Billy said he would see you first, but he also told me you bought me at the store on discount. Mom told me he was lying about that so he must be fibbing again." She rattles on, as her face turns red from its reversed position. She always was a talker once you got her going I think fondly. She was either talking or deep in thought most of the time. "Well, I think you won. Can you get down from there yourself? Your face is nearly as red as your hair." I joke. "Yes. I can do it myself. Watch." She leans forward until her hands have a hold of the branch then kicks her legs up and around. Her small shoulders twist in a way I know would kill a normal person, and she drops to the ground. "No problem!" she says as she finishes the contortion. "Better not let your mother see that." "See what?" I turn around to see Maggie balancing Charlie on one him, and Bill and Missy running towards me. Between the hugs and the kisses, I almost forget the important bag in the front seat of the car. "Dana." I get her attention away from hugging my leg. "Go get the bag in the car. Don't peek!" I call after her as an afterthought. "You're late," Maggie states after releasing me from our tight hug. "Traffic got tied up, and I had to stop somewhere on the way here." I explain. She looks relieved it isn't something work related and I reassure her with a quick kiss. Dana is back with a bag nearly as big as she is. She is fidgeting, nearly spilling the bag's content as she jumps around me in a circle. I glance over at Maggie and she seems happily annoyed at all of the spoiling that will go on tonight. "Let's take this inside. This heat is terrible." She runs a hand through Dana's hair and inspects the sunburn on her child's face. "Inside." She orders, taking the bag. The fair skinned children immediately trot off. Maggie hands the bag to me and shifts Charlie around onto her other hip. "Just what are you smiling about?" She asks, incredulous to the almost military way she orders. "Nothing. We'd better hurry or the kids will already have it all opened." *** That day I played baseball, barbequed on the grill, watched Missy do her back flips, the fireworks came next, and all time I marveled at the mystery my children composed. Charles' favorite thing to do was hitting a plastic ball around the yard with a bat, while Dana preferred following brother Bill around as he captured bugs for her jars. I guessed right with the science kit. She immediately took out the magnifying glass and paper and tugged on my hand until I conceded to look at her bug collection in the garage. That's where I find myself now. A good twenty bugs lived out their last days here in the hot corner of the dusty garage. She labeled them strange things like 'Beast', and 'Yellow Stinger', and organized them by size. I ask her if Bill showed her what to write, but she insisted she did it all herself. I look along the rows of jars until I see the familiar caterpillar. Dead now, it has favored the attention of my little scientist. She has it out of the jar and onto her paper, under her watchful eyes. She traces with crayon around it explaining, "Mom traces my hands to see if I get bigger, and I trace Beast to see when he is going to be a butterfly. I have to see what size wings to get him when he wakes up." I don't have the heart to tell her the poor thing was dead, nor can I tell her most of the others had dead a long time ago. She finishes tracing her caterpillar, labeling the picture Beast after I help her spell it. She draws a sketch of what looks to be a butterfly under it and also draws little stars around it "That tells you he is going to be a butterfly." She scribbles her name on the bottom of it as claim and sticks the note underneath the jar.She yawns and I carry her off to bed with little protest. As I slip through the hall, I feel Maggie behind me. She slips an arm around me, and we walk to Dana's room. We are quiet because Missy is already settled in and asleep in her bed across the room. I set Dana down and she cracks her eyes open. Maggie kisses her goodnight, stopping to do the same at Missy's bedside, and leaves me to put my daughter to bed. I help her into her pajamas and watch as she says her prayers at the side of the bed. I can't help smiling. Despite all of the horrible things I see happening in the world, the stress of my job, and the pictures coming from the news of war and disease, I have a little peek at heaven right here in my daughter. After reading her a chapter of her favorite story, Moby Dick, I sing an old Irish tune softly to put her to sleep and almost do so myself while I sit on her bed. She curls around my right arm, and I have to disentangle myself before it falls asleep in its strange position. I tuck her stuffed kitty under her arm instead. It was quite by accident that we found out she was allergic to cats. Maggie found out I should say. Maggie found her in the backyard with a stray, the cat and Dana found each other wonderful playmates until the next day when she woke up with itchy eyes and reddened skin. The stuffed cat was all Maggie could do for the girl to stop playing with the real thing. I stand up away from the bed, and with a final kiss to her brow, I finish the evening by visiting my other children. At about three in the morning, I hear the phone ring. Slipping out of my wife's arms, I somehow find myself sitting at the side of the bed hearing the call that the ship is sailing seven that morning. The President ordered us to the waters around Russia and I had the misfortune to having a first-class ticket for the ride. Maggie is sitting next to me and feels the tension and anger radiate from every pore. "It isn't your fault, Bill." She says. "It isn't?" I say back quickly. Without thinking, I later know. She places a hand on my back and let it slide down until we broke contact. She gets up, mumbling something about getting my clothes packed. I slip my pants on, and I let my feet take me out of the room, away from the phone I feel like hurling out of the window. As the vision of the phone slipping behind the horizon fades away with a wag of the phone wire, I find myself at Dana's bedside. Now that I am there, I don't know what to do. I don't have the heart to wake her, but for some reason, unlike with my other kids, I feel I needed some closer. In the end, I don't have to make the decision. "Daddy? What's wrong? Is it morning yet?" She blinks up at me with her large blue eyes. I pick the easier question to answer first, "Not yet Dane. We still have a few more hours until you need to get up. I just wanted to see you." "You have to go again." She stated. I see tears well up and her bottom lip tremble. I don't think I could manage if she starts to cry, but she didn't. The tears never fell and after a moment of fighting for control, I tell her the truth. "Daddy has to go to his ship." "I thought all of the mean people were gone now. I thought your big ship scared them away." She looks openly up at me, her mind grasping at straws that were already crumbling in her tiny fists. I want to tell her that is true. I want to tell her I am just going to make a trip to Russia to buy her another toy. I want to tell her I would be back sooner than the last time, and that when I come home I wouldn't leave again. I want to tell her anything but what I must tell, and her eyes plead for the truth as my heart pleads for a way out. "Do you remember what happens when you are bad?" She nods her head and frowns. "Well, when grownups do bad things I have to go an make sure they are in their rooms, on their beds, not having fun or doing anything bad again. After awhile they will stop doing bad things an I can come home and see what you are doing." "I don't do any bad things." She insists uncomfortably. "I know you won't." She smiles at that, her own Dana Scully grin, which sends a pang of regret through me. I missed most of her life's moments: Her first tooth, her first steps, and her first night way from home. I make a silent promise not to miss anymore of the truly important things. I promise to be here for her when she needs me up until her husband drags her away from me forever, and I promise the same for my other children. Her eyes are closing when I look down at her again. I want to do nothing more than forget about the call and stay here keeping sentry against the night, and the things I know which hide in it. I let her sleep and look at Missy, Bill, and Charlie a moment before I make up with Maggie and finish the packing. I leave early after a cup of strong coffee and toast. I drive a good ten minutes before I notice the wad of paper in my pocket. I don't remember putting anything in it that morning so I reach down to see what it is. Unfolding the small piece of paper, I recognize it as the notepad paper Dana was using to catalog her insects. I hold it up to the rising sun. Traced on the sheet is the shape roughly the size of Dana's hand. Next to that is a picture of a stick figure with butterfly wings. I look closer and see below it the same type of label that she used for her other creatures. 'Angel' it read, with a backwards 'g', a multitude of stars circled it, even a fewhearts. Dana must have put it in the pocket of the pants I laid out for me to find the next day. Flipping the paper around I read, 'I love you, Daddy' in pink crayon. I almost forget I have to stop at the gate. I slow down and wait for the officer let me pass. I set the paper on the seat next to me keeping the newly discovered message facing me. I look up to see that the same boy is operating the gate as the afternoon before. He walks up to the car and I roll down the window. "The wife sending you out for milk so early, Lieutenant Scully?" He asked. I am more surprised at him remembering my name than anything, and I give him the shortened version of my bad luck. Before I know it, I am back on the road and later back on my ship. In my quarters, I pin the note next to the family picture where I can see it during the long weeks, maybe months, until I can tell them I love them to their faces. Until that time, I am content to picture my little angel in her perfect little world. Perfect because she lets me go and make it safe. **** THE END **** send feedback to starbuck819@yahoo.com --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ONElist members, don't miss out on the latest news at ONElist! Join our community member news update ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The XFFanFic Mailing List To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xffanfic To unsubscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com and click on the Member Center button ---------------------------------- Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com