Title - "Soldiergirl"
Author - Wintersong
E-Mail address - wintersong@animatrix.ns.ca
Rating - R
Category - SA
Spoilers - none
Keywords - none

PURity Category: Minor Characters

Summary - Bill Scully has an unusual Christmas
gift for his sister.

Disclaimer: They belong to CC and 1013.

Note: This story was written for the PURity 
Summer Season Challenge. 


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

It started with the silver bullets. 

Six boxes of them. High test, high grade, silver 
coated 9mm ammo guaranteed not to flake, rust, 
melt or otherwise do anything that would cause 
them to jam when fired. 

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get 
silver bullets custom designed and delivered? The 
gunsmith thought I was crazy. Hell I thought I 
was crazy. I still bought them. 

Half a dozen boxes, one hundred bullets to the 
box. 

Hell of a thing to buy your sister for Christmas.

All because I walked into the wrong damn shower. 

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

I had every right to be there. The officer's 
insignia on my shoulders said so. But I would 
have made an exception if I'd given anyone a 
chance to explain why I should hotfoot it several 
doors down. Unfortunately, I was tired, pissed 
off and horny ...not necessarily all in that 
order.

And none of those conditions has ever had a 
positive effect on my temper.

My boat was early, Tara was still visiting her 
mother and the showers on the boat had stopped 
working over a week ago. Which was why we were 
early. So I not only had to deal with the fact 
that I had a mountain of paperwork on my desk 
relating to said plumbing problem, but my wife 
had not been there to meet me like we'd planned 
and I smelled. I mean really smelled.

Another side effect from investigating said 
earlier stated plumbing problems.

So my men were staying upwind and I was too 
intent on taking a three hour shower to stop and 
talk to anyone who might have clued me in to the 
unofficial change in territory that had occurred 
while I had been gone. Instead, I just starting 
stripping off clothes before I was all the way 
through the door and had my head under blessed 
hot water before the silence registered.

You have to understand...there's a big difference 
between the silence of an empty room and the 
silence of one where the other people just aren't 
talking. I don't know how to explain it...but 
it's there. And the one thing that sailors 
usually are not, is silent.

Since it was possible that the smell pouring off 
my skin with the impact of the hot water had 
stunned them all into unconsciousness, I 
cautiously cracked open one eye. The other flew 
open in shock when I found myself the target of 
five amused gazes. 

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any problem with 
SEALs. Any one of them could break me like a 
pencil. I know it. They know I know it. So there 
is no reason for them to bust my face over it. 
But I'm also male...and my testosterone was 
telling me that I was surrounded by predators. 

I'm a sailor...not  a soldier. And every 
gibbering instinct in my body knew it.

These men were not the enemy. But I was naked and 
outnumbered.

Fear is not rational.

Still, from the looks on their faces they were 
getting a kick out my predicament. One of them 
was eyeing the trail of clothes I had left on the 
floor with the expression of someone 
contemplating a burial at sea. One of the others 
just shook his head in sympathy and tossed me a 
bar of soap. 

Smiles all around and that would have been the 
end of it if I hadn't noticed the scars.

Sailors get pretty used to tight quarters and 
lack of privacy. But there's looking at another 
man's body simply to recognize that it is there 
and then there is staring. I had definitely 
crossed the line into staring. It was only later 
that I realized that they must have seen 
something else in my face, because every single 
one of them stood there quietly as my horrified 
eyes moved from one ragged edge tear to another.

That was a knife wound. And that one there was a 
bullet. Blade, bullet, teeth. One testament to 
injury after another. But it wasn't the history 
of blood and pain written across their skins that 
scared me. Rocked me to the foundations of my 
world and beyond.

It was the fact that I recognized them.

Had seen similar scars in similar forms on two 
other bodies. One of them a body I would kill to 
keep safe. The other a body I had seriously 
contemplated putting a bullet into.

"What did that?"

I was pointing and I could hear my mother's voice 
yelling at me to mind my manners, but I was too 
far gone to stop now. If I could have reached out 
and touched that scar I would have. If only to 
convince myself that it was real. the SEAL 
reached to trace the scar lightly and his eyes 
were suddenly flat with a darkness I realized 
that I recognized. A grim contemplation that I 
had seen in blue eyes and hazel. 

A darkness that I had scorned, not respected.

The SEAL's voice was wry, half-joking as he 
twisted his lips and uttered one word I knew he 
did not think I would believe.

"Werewolf."

But oh God. Mother Mary and all the Saints 
preserve us. 

In that moment of time, I did.

I must have started to shake, because the room 
was suddenly spinning and I heard muttered curses 
as two dark forms leapt to catch me as I fell. 
From a distance, I heard my own voice, high and 
plaintive. A child stating a fact that he 
desperately hopes the adults around him will 
dispute.

"Dana has one just like it."

When I came too, there were medics surrounding me 
and the SEALs were gone. But they left me a gift. 
Or a curse. It all depends on your point of view. 
One of the SBAs gave me an uncertain glance and 
handed me an object and a note. The note was 
short and to the point.



I looked at the knife in my other hand and 
twisted it cautiously to free the blade from it's 
sheathe. The deadly edge cleared the leather 
smoothly and the purity of it's metal and the 
beauty of it's lines did nothing to detract from 
it's lethal function or purpose. The light 
gleamed off it's surface and the SBAs were 
suddenly giving me concerned glances as tears 
rolled down my cheeks while laughter bubbled 
hysterically from my lips.

I turned the blade once more to catch the light.

Silver.

********************************************
I started hearing stories in the silences of her 
conversation. Pauses, hesitations...secrets that 
I can only guess at humming down the wires of 
AT&T. But I did not  know how to bring the 
subject up...and she did not volunteer.

So I bought silver bullets.

I had no clue how to tell Tara. How to explain 
that I was suddenly seeing shadows where none 
existed. Why I was suddenly keeping Matty closer 
to home and frantic when either of them were out 
of my sight. I don't know what I'm going to do 
when I'm assigned another  tour on open water. 
I'm hoping I'll be sane by then.

But I meant to tell you about the bullets. 

Did you know how cheap silver is? You can buy it 
easily by the ounce. I was walking down the 
street when I passed this jeweler's window that 
had several of the tiny squares resting on black 
velvet. Just part of the display, but before I 
could stop myself I was in the store and laying 
down my credit card.

I already explained that the gunsmith thought I 
was crazy.

It wasn't long before the quartermaster thought 
so too. 

I started going through his shelves. Searching 
through his catalogues. I wasn't even sure what I 
was looking for. But all I could see was Dana 
facing things that scared full-grown SEALs and 
reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. 

I thought the bullets would be enough. And the 
knife. But then I watched a Bela Lugosi movie and 
the next thing I knew I was siphoning holy water 
into a plastic bottle while the priest looked on 
baffled and alarmed. At least I had the presence 
of mind to use a church other than mine.

The fear never settled.  It was this vast 
underswelling of panic that was taking over my 
life and threatening to drag me down.  I kept 
thinking that I was going to be too late. There 
was nothing I could do to save my baby sister. I 
couldn't keep her safe. I couldn't keep Melissa 
safe.

How the hell was I going to keep Matty and Tara 
safe?

It was when I started guiltily praying that Dana 
and her partner could keep us safe that I knew my 
life had changed forever. That I had changed 
forever. And maybe these things were the closest 
I could come to an apology. 

Because Dana wasn't talking to me anymore.

It was my own fault. I had made another sarcastic 
crack about Mulder. God knows why I did it. I 
knew better. But I won't lie and say I like him. 
I hate everything about the way I feel, about the 
fear that it taking over my life...and I lay it 
all at his feet. It's not fair. I know that.

Tough shit.

I can shoot the messenger if I want to.

Only now I've lost my last chance to tell Dana 
that I think I understand. 

That's when Tara found me. I was standing in the 
garage staring helplessly at the pile of things I 
had purchased and every single one of them needed 
to go to Mom's. But the box I had wasn't big 
enough. You would think that it would be easy 
enough to just go out and buy another box, but 
all I could see was that I had made another 
mistake.

Tara found me crying over a god damn cardboard 
box in the basement. I don't know what the hell 
was going through her head when all I would say 
was,

"There's something missing. I don't know what it 
is, but something's missing."

It was then that I got proof positive how much my 
wife loves me. All she did was study the pair of 
bullet proof vests in my hands-the ones I had 
made after seeing that damn COPS episode, 
vests with pockets for extra clips and extra guns 
and extra things like holy water. I even had one 
made for Mulder. Because Dana had made her choice 
very clear  and because if he ever got shot, no 
one would be there to watch her back. 

That was suddenly far more important than how he 
made me feel.

Tara listened to my broken explanations. To this 
day I'm not sure how much sense they made. Then, 
instead of trying to talk me out of it or telling 
that I was crazy , she looked seriously into my 
eyes and suggested that we add a handful of tank 
tops.

" She isn't going to want to wear silk under that 
vest and I know I'd get tired of stripping down 
to my bra in front of all those cops and TV 
cameras. And they are easier to wash and don't 
cost as much if they get damaged. Do you think 
she would like some blue ones?"

Tara didn't even squeak when I grabbed her and 
held on tight.

God I love my wife.

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

We all ended up at Mom's for Christmas. I think 
if Dana had known I was coming, she might have 
had something else to do that night. That hurt 
more than I will ever admit...more because I know 
it's my fault. But Tara must have said something 
to Mom and no one said anything to Dana.

I was more than willing to send my box and be 
done with it. Hide out in San Diego and wait to 
see if she understood what I couldn't tell her. 
But Tara had decided that I was going to do this 
in person and my mother agreed. I was outgunned 
and outmaneuvered so fast I'm thinking of 
recommending commissions for both of them. 

Charlie and his family were there and suddenly I 
was seeing Dana's darkness in my own eyes. It 
stared out at me from the mirrors and reflected 
back at me from my mother's hesitant expressions 
and sober looks. I knew something they did 
not...and it pulled a wall around them I could 
not break. 

Or perhaps the wall was around me.

I looked at the laughing faces of my brother and 
his wife and wanted to scream at them for the 
chances they did not even know they took. I 
looked at their children and saw vulnerabilities 
I could not begin to explain. Monsters under the 
bed that were real, deadly and just outside the 
doors.

It was at that moment I knew that if Dana told me 
to circle the wagons and put garlic above all the 
windows that I'd do it.

And I don't even believe in monsters.

But she does. He does. And the SEALs do. And I 
finally realized that the fear I've been fighting 
is not for what lives in the shadows, but for the 
peace of mind I'm going to be forced to leave 
behind. Because now that I've stopped closing my 
eyes, someday I'm going to find answers I'm not 
looking for.

Or perhaps, they will find me.

Then supper was over too soon and the doorbell 
was ringing. Mom  ushered Dana into the hallway 
while Mulder trailed along behind, lugging bags 
of parcels. Instantly Mom invited him in for 
coffee and it was my bad luck that Dana caught 
sight of me 
at the same time Mulder started to protest that 
he was just there to help with the bags. It 
wasn't rational, but I suddenly knew, without a 
doubt, that if Mulder did not stay, that Dana 
would blame me forever.

And no amount of  silver would ever make it 
better.

So I swallowed my pride and my instinctive anger 
and I added my own invitation. Well, it was more 
an order. Something about icy roads and waiting 
for the salt trucks. I may even have made some 
comment to the effect that only a moron would 
risk driving... 

Okay, so it wasn't elegant. I was nervous. Tara 
groaned and both Mom and Dana glared but Mulder 
actually studied me curiously for a few minutes 
before toeing his boots off. He didn't even seem 
that insulted.  Intrigued and wary, but not 
insulted.

Which was fine, because Dana was being insulted 
enough for the both of them.

I should tell you that when I'm scared I get 
obnoxious. I just can't help it. No matter what I 
mean to say, it comes out in this clipped 
sarcastic voice that seems especially designed to 
piss people off. Unfortunately, the alternative 
to speech is not talking at all. Which just makes 
me look sullen.

I figured sullen gave me the least number of 
chances to say something that would get me 
killed. So I pasted a polite smile on my face and 
tried not to glare at Mulder. I guess I wasn't 
being totally successful because Dana just got 
very quiet and very tense. Her knuckles on her 
coffee mug were so white I  was worried she was 
about to fracture bone. Tara started talking 
faster and faster, while Mom just kept looking up 
and asking faintly if anyone wanted more cookies.

Finally, in desperation, Charlie suggested that 
we open presents. The screams of the children 
covered several explosive sighs of adult relief 
and no one seemed inclined to mention that it was 
several hours too early. Tradition was scrapped 
in favor of detente.

The rule was, that everyone got to open one 
present. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten about the 
huge box wrapped in silver paper with Dana's name 
on it. The kids wanted to know what was inside 
even if it wasn't for them. Charlie had second 
thoughts as soon as he saw who it was from, but 
by then it was too late.

 This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Not 
like this. Not when she was already angry with 
me. I know she didn't understand about the tank 
tops because she hadn't seen the vests yet. 
Still, her smile was fairly solid until she 
reached the next item in the box. I just wanted 
to know that she understood the message behind 
the bullets.

It never occurred to me that everyone would think 
it was a joke.

I think it was the vials of holy water that did 
me in.

She's on her feet and standing with her arms 
braced against the window while all I can do is 
stare blankly at her back. Mom has an appalled 
look on her face and Charlie's face is almost as 
blank as mine. Thank God the children were 
oblivious. They just thought the bullets were 
cool.

That's when I saw Mulder reach into the box and 
move the tank tops to reach something beneath. 
The sudden shift of his expression caught me off 
guard and I tried to recall what was in that 
particular container. I think it was the 
antibiotics. They were the same sort of pills and 
tablets the special forces used and I had had a 
hell of a time finding tablets for Mulder. He was 
allergic to the ones that came standard with the 
kit. 

Son of a bitch probably did it just to be a pain 
in the ass.

Dana could get all the meds she wanted...but 
these were military grade and designed for travel 
in combat situations. I figured, what the hell. 
Besides, they came with the med kit. Mulder 
started to open his mouth ...and Dana turned 
around.

That's the first time I knew what it felt like to 
have your heart break.

For once, the walls were gone. Stripped bare, 
I'll never forget the despair, then pain...and 
yes, the anger  that etched years onto her face. 
No one spoke. She would not, the others did not, 
and I could not. 

Then I heard a single voice.

"Scully."

Three of us turned instinctively. Two navy, one 
FBI. He never noticed. In his eyes, there was 
only one person who belonged to that name. She 
turned...and caught the vest he tossed her. Then 
he held her eyes, shook his head slightly and 
lifted out the second.

The one sized to fit him. 

She didn't get it. But she stood waiting, 
searching...because he did. And that hurt. I had 
driven my sister so far away that she had to 
trust another to see what she could not.

But she did not leave. 

Then Mulder's looking at me, and shit, I 
recognize that look. Mom and Charlie still are 
not moving and I think Tara's nails have begun to 
draw blood . And now she's getting pissed at Dana 
because Dana's pissed with me.

Way to go, Commander.  Merry Fucking Christmas.

Mulder's still holding the vest so I start 
talking to him, hoping...I don't know. That I could 
make this better. Fix it.

"I had them embroider FBI on the back. I figured 
they wouldn't allow you to wear them without it. 
And there's some padding to keep the vials from 
breaking in case you get hit or fall. The bottles 
are tough though. Heavy duty plastic..."

I was babbling, but I couldn't stop. My voice 
just kept going on and on,  getting higher and 
faster as I itemized all the standard and non-
standard features. I was beginning to wish that 
one of them would pull their gun and just shoot 
me and shut me up.

Suddenly Dana was flying across the room and I 
swear for a moment I honestly thought she was 
going for my throat. Then her body hit me hard 
enough that she knocked us both back onto the 
sofa. I think Tara had started to get up when 
Dana moved...maybe to stop her...I don't know. Our 
momentum combined with my grasp on her hand 
pulled her down on top of us, but Dana didn't 
seem to notice or care. 

She had her arms wrapped around my chest so tight 
I was having trouble breathing and I could feel 
her body shaking as she just kept saying "thank-
you" over and over. Tara must have let go of my 
hand because I suddenly realized I had both arms 
wrapped around my sister's shoulders and all I 
could think was that she was safe, and that she 
forgave me, and maybe I'd survive after all.

When I finally looked up, Tara was standing with 
my mother and Charlie. She must have been 
explaining, because Mom was smiling proudly at me 
while Charlie was giving  me a thoughtful look I 
wasn't totally sure how to interpret. It suddenly 
struck me that with his clearance level in Naval 
Intelligence that he probably had access to 
information I'd never be in a position to see.

Maybe he had known who our sister was all along.

Mulder was rooting around in the rest of Dana's 
present and for a split second I wasn't sure if I 
was annoyed or just...annoyed. But he turned his 
head towards us as soon as Dana twisted around 
enough to see him and I realized that maybe he 
had been giving us some privacy. Then he held up 
his hand and grinned as he tossed her his 
...her...prize. I scowled.

Maybe not.

Dana captured the kit which had seemed small 
enough when I held it, but seemed to dwarf her 
hands. I was still amazed at what they had 
managed to squeeze into that thing. Between the 
drugs and the equipment, she'd be able to handle 
just about anything that didn't require major 
surgery...and even then I wasn't sure where she'd 
draw the line. Dana is nothing if not creative.

"You planning on  getting injured, Mulder?"

I swear to God the man actually pouted. " Scully, 
you know I don't plan these things."

Dana muttered something under her breath which 
her partner chose to ignore and then he grinned 
at her, waiting.

We had moved far enough apart that I could see 
her face as she narrowed her eyes at the lunatic 
across the room. Finally she cracked...or maybe 
that was just part of the game. 

"What is it Mulder?"

He held up a box of silver bullets," There's a 
blue moon in another two months. Maybe we should 
check it out."

A blue moon? Two full moons in a month. Two 
chances to go chasing after fairy tales. Two 
chances to run around after phantoms in the dark?

"Two chances to get eaten?"

I didn't mean it to be funny. I thought about 
scowling and then decided I was ahead of the 
game. Mom was laughing with Charlie and Tara was 
smiling  at me through the faintest hint of 
tears. So I clenched my teeth and settled for 
glaring at Mulder. The idiot just barked a short 
laugh, then smiled slyly.

My mouth dropped in shock. Was that an 
invitation? Surely he didn't think ..no, he 
really didn't. Dana and he would go hunting these 
things alone. He didn't expect or want my help. 
But it felt like an invitation. I groped around 
for an explanation for what I was seeing, what I 
was feeling. Suddenly I realized that I was being 
invited into the club. Not all the way , but far 
enough inside that I wasn't exiled to the outside 
of my sister's life, looking in. I took a 
tentative step.

"There's no such thing as werewolves."

And they laughed at me, but maybe they were 
really laughing at each other, and their laughter 
didn't exclude me. Dana turned her head toward me 
to smile and for the first time I saw the truth 
of what she had become twisting in the depths of 
her eyes. Saw hunger and cold judgement born of 
anger and outrage and a merciless line she had 
drawn in her own blood. I saw the darkness that I 
had always misread as pain. Or maybe I had just 
never looked far enough beyond the pain. 

I don't think I know enough to understand it all. 
But she was showing me the truth of herself, 
confident for once that I wouldn't reject it. 
Wherever Mulder was going, she wasn't stumbling 
blindly along behind him. She would be right 
there beside him.

My sister hunts the things that hunt humans.   

And she was looking forward to it.

I watched as she walked back to her partner and 
he helped her stuff her presents back into the 
box. Mom was dragging Tara into the kitchen 
saying something about cookies and eggnog while 
Charlie...Charlie smiled at me in a way that made 
me think that maybe we'd be having ourselves some 
hunting conversations of our own. It made me 
wonder just what my brother had been doing since 
Missy's death. 

Still, that's for another day. For now, all that 
matters is that I've got my sister back. Not the 
one I thought I'd lost, but the one that had been 
standing there all along. 

I do not believe is ghosts.

I do not believe in goblins.

I do not believe in monsters.


But the next time my sister has to take down a 
werewolf, that bastard is one dead puppy.


***********************
      ~fin~
***********************

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