Homecoming
Captain Syverson x 1st person "reader" (I absolutely wrote it intending for her to be black btw)
Words: 1,742
Warnings: Heartache. Pain. Saddness.
Not beta'd (do people still do that?) I'm human. Mistakes happen. (if only you could SEE how I edit. It's chaotic.)
Homecoming 🍑
Time seemed to freeze upon seeing them walking up my driveway. Watching the men cross the large bay window, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces as their attire confirmed who I thought they were. Captain Devin Marx and Chaplain Reedy. There is only one detail that I could think of that would call for cause to have the chaplain present. I felt the chill in my skin as my body broke out into a sudden sweat from the anxiety running through me. Blood rushed to my head drowning out the sound of their knocking. My breathing coming in short bursts while my heart began to beat so hard against my chest.
The shrill sound of the doorbell snagged my attention bringing me back to the present. I looked down at the knife I was gripping so tightly my knuckles began to change color, quickly placing it down on the cutting board before heading towards the front door. With shaking hands I reached out for the door handle, taking an unsteady breath as I pulled it open revealing the two soldiers in their dress blues.
“Good morning, Mrs. Syverson,” Devin greeted.
I could hear the tremble in his voice. This was going to be difficult for him as well. He and Erik were the best of friends. I met his wife Stacy not long after they got stationed here. The two of us hit it off almost immediately and I ended up inviting them for drinks later that night. When Erik came home from work he told me about the new Captain he met and how he also invited them out for drinks. Since then the four of us grew close as siblings and I assumed that Devin volunteered for this detail. Despite the complete agony I would feel in a moment, I was grateful that it was a familiar face delivering the news.
“M-may we come in?” He stammered.
I almost lost it with his stutter, but I held back, forcing myself to breathe. Not trusting my voice I nodded quickly and stepped aside to allow the men to enter. They removed their hats as they crossed the threshold and waited for me to close the door before following me into the living room. I gestured to the large sofa for them to sit on while I perched on the love seat across from them.
Fidgeting with my outgrown nails I glanced at Devin’s hands as he wrung his beret within his fists. Something that my Erik does when he’s nervous or anxious.
Did.
Does?
The silence grew deafening as I allowed Devin time to compose himself. My heart slamming against my rib cage with every passing second. It felt like hours before Devin started his scripted speech.
“The secretary of the Army has asked me to express her deep regret that your husband, Erik Syverson, was-” He swallowed hard and my hand flew to my mouth, “was killed-,” I let out a sob that sounded more like a yelp, “in action while on a mission in Kuwait. The details of which are still being investigated. The Secretary of the Army expresses her deepest sympathies to you and your family for your tragic loss.” He rushed through the ending his sobs fighting to break through.
I closed my eyes, the tears I had been holding back for so long spilling over in a waterfall down my cheeks. I was intimately aware that this could happen. I held it in the back of my mind everyday since I first saw Erik Syverson, in his uniform, smile from across the bar. I knew this was always a possibility. I lived around soldiers my entire life and I tried my hardest to avoid falling in love with one of them for this exact reason. I never believed that I was strong enough to cope with news such as this, I still don’t believe it. I knew I had to be strong though, he would have wanted me to be strong but I was struggling. I took a deep shaky breath as he finished speaking.
Lifting my head I offered the men a soft smile, “Thank you, gentlemen.” My voice slightly wobbling on the end. I pulled back a sob as I felt my soul breaking. My legs felt wobbly, I knew they wouldn’t hold me up and I couldn’t collapse just yet. My hands were shaking so I held tightly to my torso because I couldn’t shatter just yet.
Devin leaned forward reaching for my hand, “Aaliyah-” I put my finger up to stop him. I knew whatever he was going to say would break my resolve and I couldn’t break, not yet, I couldn’t accept it just yet. I didn’t want to.
“Is there anything else?” I asked with a calming breath.
Chaplain Reedy had been silent through out all of this. He kept his head down but when I glanced over at him I could see his lips moving as if he were praying. He started when he realized that we both were looking at him. He turned and pulled out a manila envelope from beside him emptying it’s contents and gently placing them on the coffee table as he explained what they were. Appointments to be made to have his things signed over and delivered. Who to contact about Widow’s Benefits and a few other things I would need to know regarding the death of my husband.
Widow.
Interesting.
I barely heard any of it, I only cared about when my Sy would come home to me.
“The plane carrying the,” Reedy paused quickly looking over at Devin and second guessing the word he was about to say, “the Captain and his unit is scheduled to arrive by the end of the month.” He neatly stacked the papers on top of the envelope and gently pushed them closer to me. “If I may, Mrs. Syverson.” I looked him in the eye and felt my breathing begin to go jagged, “I am truly sorry for your loss. I spoke with Captain Syverson a time or two when he would pass by the chapel. We shared some very...enlightening ideas. He was a very good and honest man.”
Was.
“You know,” I finally said after a long pause to collect myself, “I kept telling Erik that he needed to retire so that he could be home more,” I scoffed at the memory, “and so I wouldn’t have to worry about him going to war. He told me that he was going to really consider it once he got back.” I chuckled at the irony.
With a sense of finality I cleared my throat and stood from my seat. The men followed suit and I walked them back to the front door. I held it open for them as they exited. Devin turned back to me and reached for my hand once his hat was properly placed back on his head.
“I’ll send Stacy over in a moment.” I nodded as I choked back a sob. I could barely see him as the tears welled up in my eyes. The dam had crumbled. The flood was imminent, “If you need anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to call us.”
“Thank you, Devin,” I whispered, before giving him a quick hug and closing the door as he turned to leave.
I leaned back against the door and felt everything begin to break. From my head to my toes I felt my entire being begin to crumble. As if I were made of sand I felt my body dissolve from beneath me as I slid to the floor. I finally allowed the cry that I had been holding in consume me as it reverberated off of the, now, too empty walls of my home.
***
I stood on the tarmac next to the airplane with the other surviving spouses. We held each other’s hands as we awaited the conveyor belt to finish being brought up to the cargo hold. Mother Nature must have felt the sadness in the air, for it began to drizzle while we waited. I could feel the eyes of the passengers behind us waiting for their flight in the warmth of the dry airport. Surely someone on the loud speaker would have told them to turn and look at us, so of course they would want to point and stare.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and heard the scraping of metal from the plane. I could only stare as the first casket came into view. My body went numb, I barely felt the woman next to me squeeze my hand. The buzzing in my head was so loud I didn’t hear when the honor guard was called to attention. As Erik Syverson was the highest-ranked, he came out first. I felt cold, frozen in place, but not once did my eyes ever leave his casket. I watched with heavy breaths as The Captain led his charges one last time.
He stopped in front of me and I stepped forward with the rest of the spouses. I placed my hand on the cold, hard, wood, draped over with the cotton banner.
“Hey, Sugar.” I greeted him, my voice shaky. I was doing my best to maintain my composure, “Welcome home.”
With my hand shaking, I braced myself as I leaned forward and placed my lips against his casket and lost the battle of choking back the sobs. The bugler began to play “Taps” and I nearly lost my balance. Reaching my other hand out I braced myself against the conveyor belt trying to hold myself steady, fearing they would pull me away from him too soon. I felt the tears I had been holding back this entire time well up in my eyes and begin to spill over. Silent sobs escaped my body as the music continued.
So consumed in my grief I didn’t hear when the song ended, I only felt someone come up behind me and touch my lower back. I snapped back to reality and stepped back, wiping my face on a black handkerchief with gold embroidery, to allow the honor guard to grab onto the casket. I placed a hand to my swollen belly and willed myself to follow them as they loaded him into the hearse.
After seven long months away, he was home. My Sy was finally home for good.
