Homecoming

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A father and daughter cope after she sustains injuries.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

First off, I need to include a small trigger warning. This story's plot point centers around injuries sustained while in a combat zone. Those who have sustained injuries or are close to those who have may find some of the elements a bit too much. It is not my intention to make light of or gloss over the brave men and women who are injured, so please don't take this as such. I have the utmost and profound respect and gratitude for those who put themselves in harm's way so people like myself don't have to. I do not have a military background, so much of what I've included in that regard comes from Google or watching NCIS (or other similar programs).

Secondly, I am not a physician nor do I profess to have in-depth knowledge of how the human neuro-skeletal system works. It's very possible (even likely) that I am woefully incorrect in some of my descriptions or depictions of such things. Please read this with that in mind.

A big THANK YOU to Ciguardian and 8Letters for giving me suggestions and helping me clarify story elements. If there are any problems with the story, it's probably because I ignored their notes!

Of course, all sexually active actors in this story are over the age of 18.

And now....

****

My life turned upside down a few days after my daughter turned 18. I'll never forget that day. It was a Saturday afternoon and I was laying on the bed reading my tablet. Zoe came in and sat down on the bed beside me. She wore an oversized t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. It was her normal morning/weekend ware.

Her dark brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her equally dark brown eyes looked into mine. Her slight frame hid her ferocious personality. Even at 5'2" I've watched her stare down bullies twice her size. On more than one occasion she had to defend one of her older brothers from their tormentors. While this caused them some embarrassment, in the end they were grateful for not getting their asses kicked.

"Dad? You got a minute?"

"Sure honey." I set the tablet down. "What's up?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about." she said nervously. Her hands were in her lap, clutching at the thin fabric of her pajama pants. She wasn't usually this nervous or anxious unless it was something major.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Okay." she took a deep breath. "Just, please, let me get through this without interrupting me, okay?"

I nodded.

"See, here's the thing. There's something I've been thinking about for a long time now. I've tried putting it out of my mind, but it just keeps coming back stronger. I've tried to fight it, telling myself that I shouldn't be feeling this way, but I just can't any resist it any more. And I know you'll probably freak out when I tell you, but if you think about it you probably already know; I've tried dropping hints for a while now. Maybe you do, maybe not, I don't know. Thing is, if I don't say something now I'm gonna explode or regret it for the rest of my life. Just promise me that you won't get mad or hate me or anything like that?"

"I promise." I said, my concern now at an extreme level.

"See, dad, the thing is..." she paused, then said the five words that I'll never forget her saying.

"I'm joining the marines, dad."

I just sat there for a minute, absorbing what she just said. My little girl, my youngest, was going into the military. I guess I shouldn't have been all that surprised. Looking back I could suddenly see all the hints she spoke of. Loving marine movies, saying "Hoo rah" when she was excited, and a hundred other little things that now fit into place.

Zoe was our third child. Adam and Michael were her two older brothers, and growing up she was just one of the boys. She was the stereotypical tomboy and she had to toughen up in order to play with two older boys. Even when she moved into high school and cliques formed, she stayed her usual tough self, not falling into the social traps many teenage girls do. Still, when it was just the two of us, her sweeter side would come out and she'd be my little girl again.

Yet now she was going into the military, doubling down on the tougher side, and I was scared out of my mind.

"Dad?" she said, breaking me out of my thoughts

"Yeah. Just processing."

"Are you upset with me?"

"Upset? Never! Terrified shitless? Hell yes! Are you sure about this, baby?"

"More sure than anything else I've ever done or wanted to do." She said, almost as if she had rehearsed it.

"If this is about tuition-"

"It's not, dad." she interrupted. "It's about doing what I... need to do."

Adam had recently graduated with an accounting degree. Michael was still in college working towards the bar exam. In hindsight, their career paths were identifiable years before college. Zoe's path, however, was never clear. We were always curious what she was going to do, though I admit this was the last thing on my list.

"You know mom will freak out." I said

"That's why I was hoping you'd be there when I told her?" she looked hopefully at me.

"Of course." I said, even though being around Kathy when we told her was the last thing I wanted. Oh, the sacrifices we make for our children.

Later that evening, the three of us sat around the kitchen table as Zoe went through her spiel one more time. Kathy was stunned, as expected. Then she blew up, also as expected. She bargained, pleaded, threatened, but in the end Zoe stood her ground and countered every argument. I was proud of her for that. Maybe this really is what she truly wants.

When we went to bed that night, Kathy directed her anger over Zoe towards me. Again, as expected.

"You're okay with this?!" She growled at me

"Not really. I'm terrified for her."

"Then why are you just sitting there letting her throw her life away?"

"Woah, hold on a second. She's not throwing her life away." I paused, considering my next words carefully. "She's just taking a different road than we expected. Or wanted really, but that doesn't mean she's throwing anything away."

"So you're not going to talk her out of it?"

"When have we, EITHER of us, EVER been able to talk her out of anything she's wanted to do when her mind is set?" I asked, waving my arms for emphasis.

"She gets that from you, you know?" she said, shaking her head

"Yep." I nodded

"I cannot believe this." Kathy sighed as she fell back onto the pillows

"Could be worse." I said as I turned off the lights.

"How?"

"Well, she could be going into porn."

Kathy just made a disgusted sound, rolled over and went to bed. As expected.

****

A month later Zoe and I were in the car headed to the airport. She stared out of the window at the passing trees. The airport was a little over an hour away, and the small talk had dwindled after first few miles. After a few minutes of silence, I reached over and took her hand in mine, enjoying her soft touch for a moment. Zoe looked over at me expectantly, then just smiled and squeezed my hand. It was a gesture that spoke volumes.

When we arrived at the airport, I walked her into the terminal instead of just dropping her off at the curb. She had one carry-on bag with a few of her clothes and other essentials, so we were able to skip that part of the check in. We paused briefly at the security gate, giving us one last moment.

"You be careful baby, you hear me?"

"I will dad. I promise."

I wrapped her in my arms, holding back tears as I gave her one last hug.

"I love you, baby girl." I whispered

"I love you too, daddy." she whispered back. She only called me daddy when no one else was around to hear her, letting me know she was still my little girl.

After a minute I knew she had to go, and I reluctantly released her.

"Give 'em hell." I said, grinning at her

"Hoo rah." she said, smiling back at me though glistening eyes.

She picked up her bag and went through the security point. I stood there and watched until I could no longer see her, then waited a few minutes longer just in case she completely changed her mind.

She didn't, of course.

The drive home was long and painful, each moment made worse knowing that Kathy had refused to join us. She said she didn't want to see Zoe make this big of a mistake, especially when it was expressly against her wishes. She hugged Zoe goodbye at the house, but didn't get in the car to join us. I tried to call Kathy when I was driving home, but it went straight to voicemail.

When I finally pulled into the garage, Kathy's car was gone. When I went into the bedroom, I realized what was going on.

All of the drawers in Kathy's dresser were open and empty. Likewise, her side of the closet was devoid of clothes. A simple note on the bed had my name scrawled on the back.

"Dear Will,

I need some time to myself. I've gone to stay with my sister for a while. I'll call you when I get there.

Kathy"

I knew what this meant. She wrote it as if to give me some hope she would return, but I knew the truth. We'd talk tonight, maybe tomorrow, then in a week she'd realize she was happier there. Then she'd admit to herself that she wouldn't be coming home. Then the final step: divorce.

My sons had long ago moved out. I had just dropped my daughter off at the airport. Now my wife has left. I sat on the bed buried my face in my hands, and for the first time in a long time, I cried.

****

Zoe was furious when she heard the news. I couldn't tell if she was mad because Kathy waited until now to leave, or if it was because she used Zoe's departure to hide her own. While she and Kathy never truly got along, Zoe was also upset that she couldn't be there to comfort and console me. I would have loved her being here, but her being here would mean she'd be going AWOL from there. I wanted Zoe to live her dream, regardless of what her mother or I did.

Adam and Mike offered the usual words of sympathy and support. They had figured out long before I did that we were only together "for the kids", but everyone was surprised at how quickly it happened. Both offered to come over if I needed them to, but I politely declined. There was nothing they could do other than offer support, and as far as I was concerned they could do that as well over the phone as here.

I figured I had two options: I could either wallow in self-pity or do something production. So, I dove head first into work to keep me occupied. I'm an architect by trade, specializing primarily in designing custom homes and landscapes. I had been semi-retired for the past couple of years; I worked mostly only when I wanted to. Now, I really wanted to work... A lot. I bid on contracts that before I wouldn't have even looked at twice. I was able to bid low since I wanted the work more than the money. It felt good to immerse myself in the job again, even if it was only to take my mind off of my personal life for a bit.

As I anticipated, divorce papers came a few weeks later. I had already contacted a friend in the legal profession who had counselled me on what to do. I called him and the negotiations began. For the past several years Kathy had been the primary bread-winner, so she didn't push for any alimony and since I was working again I didn't want anything anyway. The only thing I really cared about was the house. It was one of my first designs, and I had spent months obsessing over the plans back then. I knew every support, nail, wire, and pipe in this place. I agreed to pay Kathy half of the market value, which she readily agreed to. The lawyers handled the back and forth and by the time Zoe was ready to graduate from basic training our divorce was finalized.

I flew out Tuesday morning, picked up my rental car, and drove to Paris Island. The next few days were a whirlwind of tours and flood of information. I was beyond proud of my daughter's accomplishments. I barely recognized her when she ran up to meet me. Even in fatigues I could tell she had put on muscle. When she hugged me, I could feel her toned body against mine. Her new fit body was a stark contrast to my body-by-pizza self, and a harsh reminder that I needed to hit the gym. Still, feeling her back in my arms made everything right again.

Adam was also able to attend Zoe's graduation, but Kathy and Michael were both tied up with their work. That Kathy never approved of Zoe joining was probably also a factor. After the graduation, the three of us spent a week in Savannah Georgia before she had to return. We said our goodbyes and returned to our homes.

I'm not sure what her MOS was to be honest. I know it involved intelligence gathering and analytics. At least it was a safe position, right?

A little over a year later I'd find out how completely wrong I was.

****

Of all the moments burned into my memories, having two uniformed Marines walk up my driveway is the most chilling.

I was getting ready to leave to inspect a construction site when I saw them. I was halfway out of the door, blueprints bundled in my arms when I realized who they were. I vaguely remember everything in my arms spilling to the ground as my increasing heartbeat filled my ears and breakfast suddenly soured in my stomach. In retrospect, I realize I was a bad move cliche right then.

"Mr. Jones? We need to inform you that your daughter is alive, but has been injured in the line of duty."

Alive? I didn't hear much after that. I remember one of the Marines holding me up as my knees started to buckle.

"What happened?" I managed to choke out

"We're not at liberty to discuss the details, sir, though to be honest there's still a lot we don't know. What we can tell you is that she is on her way to Walter Reed and should be arriving shortly."

"I... I have to... have to get there." I stammered, various airlines running through my head.

"Sir?" one of the Marines spoke up, "I've taken the liberty of contacting Luke's Wings. They help with transportation of wounded service members and their families. There's a Civil Air Patrol KC-135 leaving for DC in a few hours. They were able to work out a jump seat for you."

I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself into father-mode. Do what needs to be done, take care of what needs to be taken care of, deal with emotions and worry when the dust settles.

"Sir?" he asked me.

"Can you wait five minutes while I get a few things?"

"Of course, sir."

I ran back inside, grabbed a travel bag, threw a couple of changes of clothes in as well as a few toiletries, and locked the house as we left. Anything I missed I could buy up there. I made a couple of calls on the way to the airport to have some friends check on the house and make sure I didn't forget something that would cause it to burn down. The drive seemed to take forever, but there was nothing that could be done about it. I just sat there and, despite my best efforts, became consumed by worry.

"Thank you, by the way." I said to the Marine who spoke to me at the house earlier

"Of course, sir." He nodded, then looked back at me, "I have a daughter." He offered as way of explanation.

I just nodded, two dads understanding the unbreakable bonds that form. As we drove, I stared at my phone, and for the hundredth time contemplated calling Kathy. She needs to know, but what could I tell her at the moment other than 'I have no real information yet.'? Finally, mainly out of nothing else to do, I decided to call.

"Will?" she said, surprised to hear from me

"Hey. Where are you?"

"At work, where else would I be?"

"Okay, listen, I don't know all the details yet, but Zoe's been hurt."

"What!?"

"I'm headed to the airport now. They don't know everything yet."

"What happened?!"

"I told you, I don't know. She's at Walter Reed or will be soon. I'm on my way to meet her."

"So she's alive?"

"Yeah." I answered, not knowing for certain myself if that was still true.

"I knew something like this would happen." she said, almost smugly.

"Well, powers of prognostication aside, I'll let you know the minute I find out anything."

"You'd better." she said, hanging up.

Well, that went about as I expected.

****

The KC-135 landed at Andrews Air Force Base with a heavy thud and jolted me awake. I was chilled to the bone and the earplugs were starting to hurt. All the anxiety must've worn me out more than I had expected for me to doze off on this flying chest freezer.

There was a Marine representative waiting for me when I exited. She was dressed in her fatigues and took me to a waiting car. Traffic meant it took us 45 minutes to get there, but eventually we made it to Walter Reed.

As fast as I could, I made my way to the surgical ward. Unfortunately, the nurses there could only tell me that she was in surgery and the doctors would be out to speak with me as soon as possible. It was an agonizing six hours before one of them finally came out to meet me. I don't remember half of the medical jargon he used, but it boiled down to the fact that Zoe was alive, but extremely injured.

He was able to give me more information about what happened, though I still didn't get all of the details. She was in a convoy when they hit some IEDs. One of the blasts went off directly underneath her side of the vehicle. He had me sit down as he delivered the hard news.

he wasn't sure how much of either could be saved. While they were amazed that was there wasn't more internal The blast had severely damaged her right arm and leg, and damage, there appeared to be some minor damage to her spine. She was still in surgery; the 2nd shift of surgeons had taken over.

The doctor, went into some more detail, but I didn't hear much of that. I just sat there and tried not to throw up. After the doctor left, I ran to the bathroom.

The call to Zoe's mom went about as well as anyone could expect. I was yelled at for not calling again sooner, and my explanations that I didn't have any new information were not acceptable. I managed to give her a brief synopsis of what the doctor told me, which spurred her to get on a plane. The calls to her brothers were easier with much less yelling.

I wandered the halls of the hospital, trying to think but completely unable to. Eventually, I found myself in the chapel, though I have no recollection of seeking it out. I sat in a pew, stared at the non-denominational stained glass, and felt the tears flow. It was the 2nd time in recent memory I had cried.

****

After the final round of surgery, the doctors broke it down for me. It was not pretty. Her right leg had to be completely amputated at the hip joint. Her right arm was removed from the below the elbow. There were a few minor scars on her face that a little plastic surgery could repair. The final blow was her spine. Until she woke up they wouldn't know how extensive the damage was. Assuming she wasn't paralyzed, the road to recovery was going to be long and difficult.

When I was finally able to see Zoe, they had moved her into a private room. I almost fell to my knees when I saw her. She looked so small and frail on the bed. She was covered in bandages, and what little skin was exposed was bruised or burned. I pulled a chair beside her and took her hand in mine. Weariness set in and I wondered how long it had been since I last slept. This morning? Yesterday? It was on the plane, but I couldn't remember when exactly that was. I leaned forward and put my head beside her hand. I blinked, but I don't think I opened my eyes.

I was, however, jostled awake suddenly by hearing my ex-wife's voice.

"Oh my God!" She practically screamed.

It took a few moments for it to set in who was speaking. I noticed it was daylight outside, though I could have sworn it was dusk when I sat down. I must've been more tired than I thought, though I was still exhausted.

"Hey." I said wearily. Sitting up, every muscle in my back screamed at me for falling asleep slumped over.