Prologue: Chapter 10
Title: Prologue (chapter 10)Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Kara/Zak and Kara/Lee
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: Daybreak flashbacks, extended edition. The funeral.
Chapter 10
Kara is numb as she drives back toward Delphi. Most of yesterday between meeting Bill Adama and Lee showing up is a blur that she doesn't push herself to remember. Instead she focuses on the feel of the road moving past underneath her truck, not as good as the clouds under a Viper but close enough for now.
When she finally pulls up and parks outside her apartment, Kara's stomach clenches at the thought of seeing all Zak's things. Then she chastises herself: it's her fault he's dead. She deserves every bit of this pain like she never deserved him.
There's only an hour until she needs to be at the temple for the service, so Kara avoids dealing with the reminders, showers with her eyes closed so she doesn't have to stare at his shampoo. Her throat aches from crying so much yesterday. She puts on her dress greys, hands shaking as she affixes the pips to her collar.
The bell is tolling as she reaches the temple on the base where the service is being held, but Kara hangs back. Many of her cadets are milling around, some in tears, others quietly in shock. She should be helping them but can't seem to move.
As the doors open and the nuggets head inside, Kara finally approaches. Just inside the doors is a photograph on a stand. She stops, mesmerized. Were his eyes always that blue? Is she already forgetting? His name is displayed below: Lieutenant Zakary Adama. Kara nods, glad that he's gotten the rank he would have held.
Instead of entering down the main aisle, Kara slips along the side. Lee's wave from the first row catches her eye. He signals to her to join him and his mother. She hesitates, then looks past him to the box on the dais. This will be hard enough as it is. She walks quickly along the edge of the pews, avoiding drawing attention from her students, and sits beside Lee.
He turns, and she can feel him staring at her profile. Neither of them speaks. Finally Lee faces forward. After a moment he takes her hand, and she allows it without comment.
"We gather here to remember Zakary Samuel Adam, son of William and Carolanne," begins the priest. He begins the liturgy and Kara relaxes, lets the rhythm of the prayers she knows by rote carry her away from their meaning. "For those who trust in the Gods shall not fear death, for they know it is not a true ending but a chance to begin anew." Lee squeezes her hand. Kara squeezes back. "As it written, all this has happened before, and all this will happen again." Kara closes her eyes and hopes it's true.
"And now a brief eulogy," the priest intones, "delivered by William Adama, Zakary's father."
Kara feels Lee go suddenly tense as they watch the Commander rise from the opposite pew and ascend to the dais. He takes a deep breath before beginning.
"Zak was one of the most cheerful children you'd ever met," Adama begins, his face a sort of grimace as he forces out the words. "He would come running to me every time I walked into the house." He blinks hard. "It's difficult to believe he's no longer with us, that I won't see him running toward me when I step out onto the quad, but I take some small measure of comfort in knowing that Zak died doing what he loved: flying."
Lee's grip feels like it might break her fingers, but she doesn't let go.
"Zak had finally become a man in these last months at the Academy, and I deeply regret not being able to see him graduate and wear his wings with pride. No matter what, though, I will always be proud of him-" Adama falters and stops. "He was my son," he finishes, his voice weaker. His gaze roams the room, lands on Lee for a minute, then Kara. She feels a surge of her own pain rising to answer his. Adama nods to her once, then turns to the priest and heads back to his seat.
Lee pulls away from her, turning to comfort his mother, who has broken out into soft sobs. Kara stands silently through the last hymn, then slips back out the side aisle, leaving Lee and Carolanne to greet the mourners. For once it's a mercy that hardly anyone knew about her relationship with Zak; she doesn't think she could have borne having to be the grieving fiance right now.
Kara skirts the crowd and kneels in a recess in the rear of the temple before the idol of Hermes. She rests her fingertips on the foot of the statue and whispers her own prayer, that he will guide Zak well, will deliver him to rest and peace.
Suddenly she hears rising voices from behind her.
"Of course he ran to you, you were never home!" Lee bursts out.
Kara holds her breath as she stands, peers around the corner.
"He was my son," Adama is growling. "And he's gone."
"Oh, your son who loved being a Viper pilot?" Lee spits. "I've seen him fly, have you? Zak was not meant for this; he only did it for you. It's your fault he's dead!"
"Enough!" Adama barks. He looks like he might take a swing at Lee, but at just that moment he sees Kara. "Lieutenant Thrace," he says, his temper receding. "I was hoping to have a word with you."
Lee turns to her, his eyes flashing with anger. "He shouldn't have died!" he protests loudly, whether to her or his father she's not sure.
"Leland?" Carolanne calls from the direction of the main entrance.
He glances over his shoulder toward her. "Come on, Kara."
She looks to Adama, who's still waiting for her. "I'll be there in a minute," she says to Lee.
He sighs in irritation and heads off.
"You've met my other son?" Adama asks ironically.
Kara nods. "Yes, sir. Zak...introduced us."
"I wanted to talk to you about a position on Galactica. I spoke to Major Marshall about transferring you and he approved it. Apparently some of the other instructors had already arranged to cover for you and there's only a week remaining in the semester. Is that still what you want?" He touches her shoulder, wordlessly commanding her eyes. There's a tenderness in the gesture that draws out her pain but also soothes it.
"Yes, sir." The words come without forethought.
"Good." Adama nods, begins to lead her out. "If you can be ready, my transport returns to the Galactica tonight at 2000."
Her eyes widen a moment in panic, but then it recedes. The alternative is sleeping back in the apartment, surrounded by Zak's things, in the bed where she's frakked both Zak and Lee. "I'll be ready," she says softly. He pats her on the back.
As they exit the temple, the motorcade is already pulling away, and Kara slips off toward her truck.
"What was that about?" Lee demands, crossing the lawn toward her.
Kara holds herself straight, suddenly nervous after Lee's outburst inside. "Your father offered me a place on Galactica. And I'm taking it." She watches his face go stony with anger and adds softly, "It's what Zak wanted, Lee." Even to her own ears it sounds like she's begging.
He shakes his head but doesn't yell. Instead he faces her, his eyes boring into hers. "Is it what you want, Kara?" Lee finally asks.
She can feel all the layers of the question. He takes a step closer, into her personal space, and the electricity between them isn't gone, even now. Lee lays his hand against her cheek, his thumb stroking gently. For just a moment Kara closes her eyes, feels the rightness of the contact, the way his touch steadies the confusion that fills her. And then she looks up at him, sees the same emotion in his eyes and pulls away hard. This is more dangerous than anything she could do in a Viper.
Kara takes a step back. "I've made my decision."
Lee seems to deflate. "Fine," he snaps, then winces in apology for his tone. "I'll...I'll see you there." He turns and crosses back to where his mother is waiting.
Kara leans against her truck, then climbs into it. Her hands are shaking. She turns the key and pulls into the parade of cars.
It's slow going following the caravan and trying not to dwell on where they're headed. To think of Zak's body deep in the ground, never touched again, never warm in her arms. Kara blinks away tears as loneliness wells ups inside her. "I miss you," Kara whispers to the air, to the spot where Zak should be sitting. "I'm so sorry." She tries to breathe slowly and forestall tears as she parks.
When she opens the door, Adama is climbing out of his towncar a few yards away, watching her. Kara stiffens, but he just waves her over, leads the way to the grave. Lee glares when he sees her with his father, but Kara can't care. This moment is about Zak.
The priest begins again here, words of a ritual she's only heard once before: when her mother died. The words flow past her, lose their meaning. At one point Lee steps away from his mother on the other side of the grave to put his own pips down on the coffin. Kara closes her eyes. If only she'd told Zak he wasn't ready, they wouldn't be here.
Adama takes her hand.
The guns fire and her body jerks: One. Two. Three. Four.
***
The cadets finally swarm her as the service ends, as the coffin is lowered into the ground. She can't leave, not until its over, and is forced to deal with Firefly's clinging, Balderdash's respectful hug, Briggs' tears. Even Pearson is there, and thankfully doesn't question why she was standing with the family.
And then it's done. He's buried. No trace of the coffin is visible. Kara stumbles around the grave and heads toward her truck but Lee is standing in her path, watching her, waiting for something.
"I have to go," Kara stammers, not even sure he's close enough to hear her, and turns the other way.
It's been two years but even as she sprints, Kara's feet remember. A few mintues later she collapses, gasping, in front of Socrata's headstone. As she catches her breath, Kara leans her forehead against it, her fingers tracing the letters: Socrata Thrace. Mother.
"You were right," she whispers in anguish, tears on her cheeks. "You were always right."
All those fights, in her teenage years, when Socrata had told her she was a burden, a cancer, a poison. Kara thought Zak had come into her life to fix her, but it was the other way round. She entered his, bringing betrayal and destruction.
For a long time, Kara rests there, completely drained. She cannot imagine moving, ever wanting to move.
And then the sky begins to darken, and she remembers. She has to go.
***
A few hours later, Kara's in the spaceport, taking with her only what she can carry in a duffle bag. Her apartment is locked up, all her belongings left behind. She carries only two pieces of evidence of the past year: a small silver ring that belies the weight of love and loss and guilt it bears and a photograph, folded in half, to remind her of what she can't have and what she never could.
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Epilogue