"Family Grams" by R.J. Christensen RJCHRISTEN@aol.com Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the "X-Files" television program are the creations and property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Broadcasting and have been used without any permission. Any copyright infringement implied or suggested is unintended. The following work is for the distribution and entertainment of EMXC members only No copying or forwarding this story without express written consent of the author, R.J. Christensen (RJCHRISTEN@aol.com) Summary: The Events of "Christmas Carol/Emily" as viewed by Scully's still as yet unseen brother Charles. Vignette, Slight Angst Spoilers: "Christmas Carol", "Emily". **Warning: "Scully" will refer to CHARLES Scully, not DANA. Rating: PG (Salty Navy Language) Writer's Notes: I've always wondered about Scully's little Brother Charles and what the effect of his sister's work on the X-Files would have on him. We've seen what her Big Brother Bill thinks, but still one Scully Brother is missing. This is my idea, which I've been slaving on for the first 3 months of 1998. It's fairly angsty, but what with Chris Carter's put the Scully family through... ========================================= "Family Grams" by R.J. Christensen RJCHRISTEN@aol.com "USS Atlanta" 41deg Latitude, 177deg Longitude . Nov 30, 1997 1830hr, Ships Time A fierce North Pacific storm was churning the waves with fierce wind and slashing rain, but the attack submarine USS Atlanta thrust her steel shape smoothly through the dark ocean, 500 feet beneath those wild waves. She had been heading east towards her home in the Puget Sound of Washington state, but circimstances caused it to again sail west towards Asia. Inside the metal double hull of the Atlanta, three of her junior officers were in the Ward Room, drinking coffee and going over their daily reports; LT Kevin Norman, ENS Jamison Dunbar, and LT Charles Scully. "If I get my hands around the sorry son of a bitch in the CIA who kept us out a month and half extra on this patrol because the frickin' North Koreans decided to have gawddam winter war maneuvers..." growled the bear-like Norman. "Yeah, it was going to be me and my wife's first Christmas together.." bemoaned the youngish Dunbar, fresh out of the Baylor University ROTC. Lt Scully smirked. "Ah married life...glad I haven't been bitten by that bug..." "Hey, you keep this bachelor thing up Scully, and people are gonna start thinking you're a faggot or something." Norman jokingly replied. "You're just jealous, Normie. Tied down with a wife, an exwife, kids, stepkids, a mortgage, car payments..." But before LT Scully could finish or Norman could retort, the Atlanta's chief Radioman, PO1 Fitzsimmons, knocked at the door and entered when acknowledged. "Uh, Lieutenant Scully, I have a FamilyGram for you." "Anything for Me?" asked Dunbar sheepishly. "Sorry, Ensign Dundar. And nothing for you, either, Lieutenant Norman." "Didn't expect one, didn't ask." "Thanks, Fitzsimmons." Scully told the radioman. The youngish, red-headed officer opened the sealed slip of paper. A smile opened up on his face. "Ah! From my big brother Billy, the newly-reassigned Desk Jockey at CINCPAC." "Damn. One less Target..." laughed Norman, remembering when the former Aircraft Carrier officer came to visit his younger brother. But then Scully's grin fell into a frustrated frown as he read the 25 word message that was delivered with several others in a microburst of radio signals from an orbiting Navy satellite. <<<<"Chuck! Heard about your extension, Sorry. Tara expecting baby any day now. Mom, Dana coming for Xmas, sorry GATech lost. Happy Holidays, Don't eat any bad kimchee in Korea. Bill">>>> "Oh crud! Not only do those gaddamn dawgs beat us again, my mom and sister are coming west for Christmas for the first time in eight years!" Scully crumpled the printout slightly, then began to flatten it out. "I thought your sister died 2 years ago, LT Scully?" asked Ensign Dunbar. Norman spoke up. "No, this is the gun-toting FBI agent Scully sister, Dunbar. The cute one with the wack-o partner, right, Scully? "Yeah, the UFO nut... It was bad enough for her to give up a medical career for the FBI, but now she has to run around the country chasing ET and satan worshippers, only to get kidnapped by some brain-damaged former Fed... "Wait, I thought you said your sister had cancer... that's why I thought she had..passed on..." asked Dunbar again, trying to be somewhat polite. "She did. But just before Thanksgiving it went into remission. My eldest sister died 3 years ago." "Shit, Scully. Your family is in some kind of gawddamm soap opera. Your dad dies, one sister gets kidnapped by some wacko, then just when she's found, your other sister gets murdered..." "Murdered?!?" gasped the now-shocked Dunbar. "My god Lieutenant, what happened?" Scully took a final gulp of his coffee and got up. "I'd rather not talk about it, Dunbar." He looked at his watch as he walked towards the door. "Well, better get back to reactor room and see how it's cooking..." "Gee, I didn't want to make him mad..." sighed Dunbar. "I was only trying to say how sorry I was..." "It's a sore spot with Scully. Both the abduction and cancer of his sister Dana and the murder of his sister Missy are suspected to have something to do with that shit-for-brains FBI partner of her's we were talking about. Just forget it...and get me another coffee, why don'cha..." After inspecting the Atlanta's nuclear reactor, Lt Scully reread his familygram. "Sorry Mom...Sorry Dana..." he whispered to the walls, wishing his boat hadn't been kept at sea for an undisclosed time. He hadn't seen his Mom in a long time, and Dana even longer. Norman was right; for that last five years, his family was living some sort of twisted soap opera plot. He had missed both funerals of his father and sister Missy, as well as the kidnapping of Dana. Dana. Seems at times she was his only friend in the world as the Scully family travelled from one base to another, more often or not with Dad away at sea. Even during his brief flirtation with the punk scene in his teens, Dana was there to be his one true confidant, even after she went off to college. She was there to see his graduate in 1987 from Georgia Tech and get his commission. Sadly, it was also one of the last times he had seen her. The last time he had leave and went back east to see Mom & Dad, she was off on some alien chase with that damn Moldy, or Muller or whatever his damn name was. Their relationship had trickled down to phonecalls, the occasional letter, and now shorty bits of e-mail. Even Missy had visited him in Seattle just 4 months before she headed home...to die a tragic death. But he hadn't been able to be with Dana when she was in the hospital with that freaky cancer-- all he got was a few familygrams from Mom and Bill. The one that told of her miraculous remission was still taped to his bunk. "Christmas with Mom, Billy, Tara, and Dana... and a possible nephew or niece. And I'm stick here heading off into what might become World War Three. Just great..." The pain of separation at sea never hurt any more then Charles Scully felt now. USS Atlanta Somewhere off the Korean Peninsula. Dec 23, 1997 2026hr Two days before Christmas and the USS Atlanta was silently stalking a North Korean diesel submarine heading south. The tension of the situation was lessened by the makeshift holiday decorations throughout the boat. Lieutenant Charles Scully and LT Commander Robert Garceau were returning from a briefing when they stopped by the radio room to see if they had any messages from home. Radioman Veitch smiled and began filing through the incoming basket. "OK... here you go Commander Garceau..." he said handing the first one off. "I know I've got one from your mother, Lieutenant Scully..." he added with a slight, unseen grin coming >from the idea that Scully's mommy was worried about her not-so little boy. "Hmmm..." murmured Garceau as he read the blurb from home. "Wife got a promotion at the engineering firm...my son Max played a reindeer in the school Christmas play, and the dog chewed up half the presents under the tree...Cute..." "Ah, the fun of family holidays..." remarked the bachelor Scully, half in jest, half in envy. "Found it yet, Veitch?" "Here you go, LT..." came the reply. Garceau, having reread his message, look up and saw his fellow officer's mouth drop open and eyes widen in utter surprise. "What's the matter, Scully? Your Mom getting remarried or something?" <<<<"Dearest Charles. Merry Christmas. Strange news; Dana thinks adopted 4yrold girl Emily is Missy's baby. Awaiting Tests. Did Missy ever talk about this? Tina, Bill, Dana are OK. Love Mom.">>>> "Jesus H. Christ! My sister Dana thinks my late sister Missy had a baby out of wedlock and gave her up! What the hell is going on here!?!" Scully was so visibly shaken, he didn't even realized he was still the communications room, four radiomen staring blankly at his outburst. "Whoa! That's the damnest news I've ever heard in a family gram!" Garceau exclaimed in equal surprise. "You should read the really weird ones..." muttered Veitch under his breath to a fellow enlisted man. Garceau managed to to pull Scully out of the communications room and into the hallway. Even though it was just as crowded as the room, the flow of ships crew through prevented any coherent eavesdropping. "A baby?!? Missy? This can't be! Dana must have flipped or something..." Scully babbled, his hands gesturing ferently. Garceau had seen this kind of family shock, it was all part of the job of submariner. "Wait, this is the sister who got shot you're talking about? My god, Scully! How does your family endure all this tragedy? Maybe you should try sending a message home..." "Yeah, good idea... " Scully stepped back and stuck his head in the communications room door. "Hey Veitch..any chance of getting a message out?" "Sorry, Mr. Scully. Captain's ordered complete radio silence while we're on war station. We can only receive." "Thanks anyway..." Scully answered as he and Garceau walked down the hallway to their quarters. "Missy...pregnant...this has got to be a mistake.." "Most are, Scully. Julie and I were using birth control when Max came around. Any idea if this could be true?" "Well, six years ago she divorced her good-for-nothing druggie husband and hit the road up and down the west coast for a year without contacting any of us...but when she turned up in Seattle a year later, she gave no idea she might have had a baby. Jeez! I could be an Uncle for crips sakes! I hope this isn't Dana's idea of a freaking joke..." "From what you've said about your G-Woman sis, I don't think this could be a joke, Scully..." USS Atlanta Somewhere off the Korean Peninsula. Dec 25, 1997 1630hr Ships Time. The mood aboard the Atlanta was business-like this Christmas Day, but the somber sadness of it's crew was evident. Fathers were missing the joy of seeing their children tearing into presents and husbands longed for their wives. Even the bachelors were quietly thinking of home-cooked turkey dinners with their families. But with tensions building across the divided Korea, the crew stuck to their duties, if not to temporarily forget what day it was. The officers of the Atlanta were gathered for Dinner in the Wardroom, having been given an hour's reprieve from duty to take in the holiday spirit. A 3 foot tall plastic excuse for a Christmas tree stood in the middle of the table, decorated with an odd assortment of items gathered from around the boat. Captain Herman Drake held a glass of iced tea up. "Gentlemen...to our Loved ones back home. We sacrifice our time with them this Christmas Day in order to keep them and our beloved nation safe >from harm." "To our loved ones..." the officers of the Atlanta toasted. "Now Bring on the Dancing Girls!" bellowed Norman, garnering a laugh from his fellow Officers. "Can we open our presents now?" Scully and his friend Lieutenant Leone mockingly asked the Captain, who was shaking his head in humorous convulsions. "You know, I wanted to keep this somewhat dignified..." He said as he reached under the table. "Well, merry Christmas, sirs. I have a family gram for each of you, which I'd like to have you read aloud." "Provided it's not TOO personal..." the Executive Officer Richard Sather added, looking straight at Lieutenant Leone. Each of the officers began reading seasons greetings from their families. By the time Lieutenant Scully received his, there were wistful thoughts of family in the eyes of the Atlanta's officers. Scully stood up and read his aloud. "The Merriest of Christmas' Charles! Love; Mom, Dana, Bill, Tara, your Nephew who's still not here yet..." He paused as a few chuckles broke out and read on. "...along with Little Emily Sims." "Hey, Scully, who's Little Emily?" asked Leone when his buddy sat down. "Uh, my sister Dana..." Scully whispered back. "..uh, thinking of adopting her..." "But isn't she single? She didn't marry that crazy FBI partner of her's, did she?" "It's the 90s..." Across the table, Commander Garceau didn't say anything, not wanting to divulge any of the Scully family problem he had heard about days before. After leaving the Ward Room, Scully was heading to the Engine room to give some well-deserved veneration to his enlisted crewmen. But as he past the communications room, he was stopped by a sudden voice. "Lieutenant Scully!" It was Fitzsimmons the Radioman. "I didn't want to interrupt the Captain's get together, but I have a direct message from CINCPAC for you...It's from a Commander William Scully...Says it's urgent. Your eyes only." The younger Scully was taken aback by this sudden news, but took the sealed message from Fitzsimmons, thanking him, then raced to his quarters instead. "Bill? Omigod, something must have happened with Tara and the baby..." When he got to his quarters, he was relieved to see he was alone. His bunkmates Leone, Dunbar, and Norman were either still in the wardroom or back on duty. Use of CINCPAC communiques for personal messages was highly frowned upon...unless in case of a death in the family. He had already experinced that years ago. Nervous with uncommon fright, Scully opened the sealed message. <<<<"Chuck. Sit down, you won't believe this. Emily Sims is not Missy's baby, but test says she is Dana's! We have no idea what's going on. Will Keep you informed. Tina's OK, so's Mom. Bill.">>> "What the Hell?? DANA's BABY?" he screeched aloud. "My god, this IS turning into a friggin' soap opera!" Charles Scully plopped himself down on his bunk. He stared at the message again. Dana? A Baby? After the last two years of tragic medical problems for his remaining sister, this was just too much. When in hell could she have even HAVE a baby? Certainly she would have told him about this, let alone Mom or Bill. Was it because of her kidnapping? Did that waste of human protoplasm Duane Berry rape her and get her pregnant? Rage erupted through the youngest Scull's mind. He punched the top bunk above him. The sting of bare flesh against steel could not remove the thought of his sister enduring such a torturous assault. Luckily, his senses slowly returned. "Wait a minute... calm down Chuck, old man.... think. Dana certainly would have said something...about anything like that...not to mention the fact Mom would have noticed her getting pregnant...That test has got to be a mistake... Dana never had a chance to have a baby. Emily has to be Missy's..." Scully then realized something rather horrifying. He'd heard some crazy news stories about black market trade in human organs. Stories of Illegal adoptions were also going through his head. Could Dana have been...harvested?? No...wait. That was too damned twilight zonish...something her freak fed partner Molder, Muehler... whatever the hell his name was... would think up. No, it was mostly like a mistake on the test. Emily must be Missy's daughter... but she's still my niece. LT Charles Scully folded his arms behind his head and laid down on his bunk, staring upwards, towards the ceiling, towards the surface of the ocean above him. Back in San Diego celebrating the holidays were Mom, Dana, Bill, Tara, and now Emily. "I am...an Uncle. Uncle...Charlie." Suddenly, he frowned. "No, that's from "My Three Sons'. Uncle Chuck... Uncle Chuck. I think like the sound of that..." USS Atlanta Somewhere off the Korean Peninsula. Dec 29, 1997 1720hr The four North Korean subs that had all been stalked by the Atlanta in the last month had returned to their port at Hungnam; the border tension that had drawn the American submarine here had all but dissipated. The threat of a War at Christmas was over. The crew of the Atlanta had done their duty well, and was now ordered to sail to Hawaii and would be flown directly to Bremerton to be reunited with their families. In the officer's quarters shared by Lieutenants Leone, Norman, Scully, and Ensign Dunbar, a mild debate about the preceding mission extension was ongoing. "Well, looks like my Tomahawks aren't going to fly this time..." Lieutenant Leone remarked as he flopped onto his bunk. "Be glad they didn't, Paul." Scully replied from his bunk, reading a science fiction novel. "Because if we had to, a lot of misery would have been dished out." "Well, when did you become the pacifist, Chuck?" the Atlanta's Weapons Officer retorted, surprised at the sudden change in attitude from his fellow officer. "The L.T.'s not getting soft is he, Mr Leone?" Dunbar chirped up while polishing his shoes. Scully raised his eyebrow and glared with that one eye. "Well, look at this way, Paul. If we had to launch missile at the North Koreans, you know a lot of American boys would have been and would be getting killed right now." "Yes, but that would only be due to the fact the North Korean leader Kim Sung is a bigger wack-o then Saddam Hussain and would probably prefer a gotterdamerung ending to folding up shop like they did in eastern Europe. Damn communists don't care about people-- only ideology and power!" While Dunbar halfheartedly agreed with Leone, Scully smiled. "But just knowing we MIGHT Be out here with your Tomahawks probably scared the North Korean General staff shitless. So don't feel so bad, Paul. We did our job." A knock at the doorway interrupted Dunbar's equally lukewarm agreement with Scully. Leone answered the knock with a shout. "Come!" It was Fitzsimmons, a wire in-box filled with messages in his hand. "I got some early New Years Familygrams for you sirs. Including the first one from JUST Mrs Dunbar to Mister Dunbar..." "Finally! Allie Wrote Me!" The exasperated Ensign cried, grasping the paper slip from Fitzsimmon's hand. The officers laughed outright, while the Radioman only did so inside. "So, Dunbar. what does your newlywed wife have to say?" asked Scully as the younger officer tore into his note from his wife. "Uh...she's...uh...`LONELY'..." blushed Dunbar. "Oh Boy...one of those `wifee-grams'..." grinned Lt Leone evilly. "My Emma really knows how to write juicy ones... "I'm sure she's quite appreciated by all the ships' radiomen, Paulie." Scully jokingly added giving a wink at Fitzsimmons, who was handing the jovial Lieutenant the third message. Scully took his message, but seconds after a wide grin crept up on his smile, a look of startled surprise came over his face. "Scully? Any problems?" Leone inquired. Quickly, Lieutenant Scully folded the paper, and forced a smile. Fitzsimmons gave a quick half salute and went on to the rest of rounds. Scully's two fellow officers looked at him bewildered, wondering what could bring such an odd reaction from him. "Well, what's yours' say, L.T.?" Dunbar asked, desperate to change the subject. Scully smiled and held it up. "I'm an Uncle..." "Alright Uncle Chuckie!" cheered Leone. "You got any cigars?!" "Compliments of Captain Drake..." grinned Scully as he reached into a drawer and held up a trio of White Owls to the cheers of his comrades. But what Charles Scully did not tell his shipmates was the second half of the familygram. <<<<"Chuck! Matthew William Scully born 12/28/97 8lbs5 oz. Has his Grandpa's hair. Tara doing great, so's Mom. Dana's OK too, but Emily's in the hospital-very sick. Keep up good work. Bill">>>> While the four officers lit the cigars and celebrated the birth of Charles Scully's nephew, the instant Uncle found himself instead thinking a little prayer for the possible niece he had never known about. He had never been a terrible religious man before, but reading that the mysterious young girl that had in come into his family's world was gravely ill made him reconsider his beliefs. **Please Dear God...please let her live so I can see her...I owe it to poor Missy...or Dana if she really is the mother... just don't let her die..." USS Atlanta Passing through the Korean Straits. Dec 31, 1997 2242hr, Ships time The year 1997 had a day left back in the Atlanta's home base of Bremerton, but since she and her crew were on the western side of the International Date Line, the celebration of the New Year was in as full swing as safely as the Captain demanded. A blaring boombox stereo echoed oldies music from the crew's mess throughout the metal body of the Atlanta, making the submarine more like a college dormitory then a weapon of war. But in the quarters of Charles Scully, the lively music fell on deaf ears. The young officer was alone in his bunk, a familygram from the day before clenched in his right hand. The hint of tears clouded his eyes as he held it up to read it once again, as if another reading would change the message it told. <<<"Chuck, Happy New Years, but have terrible news. Emily Sims passed away over weekend. Poor Dana's incredibly upset. Send her your love when you can. Matthew, Tara doing great. Bill.">>> LT Charles Scully crumpled the paper in his hand. He sat quietly at the table while merriment went on throughout the Atlanta. Not only did he never know his mysterious niece, he would never know her at all now. What seemed like a Christmas miracle was now just another depressing calamity in the Scully family saga... The future homecoming in Bremerton lost all it's luster as Lieutenant Charles Scully sat up and gloomily went back to his Engine Room. It was all part of his job as a submariner... End Comments, Critiques, and Corrections Welcome, send to: RJCHRISTEN@aol.com