Not even half a year had passed before the next tragedy had happened, and this time, fate had come without even a hint of a warning. One moment, Flak had been walking up the stairs after closing down the stall and the next he had stumbled, fallen over and collapsed where he stood. Harkness, who had seen him fall, had hurried to his side and carried him into the clinic as fast as his legs could carry him.
When the news had reached Sandy she came to the clinic as well, and even as Harkness had prepared himself for her grief, she hadn’t even wept. He hadn’t been sure, and still wasn’t, if her stony, unmoving face and her dry, lifeless eyes hadn’t been actually worse than if she had thrown a fit. A stroke, the doctor had said.
Sandy went over to the bed and looked down at Flak’s unmoving form. “A stroke?” Preston nodded, looking more uncomfortable than he had any right to be as a doctor. But even a doctor could only bear to give so much bad news. With a slow shake of her head, Sandy took one of Flak’s hands and kissed it, and without making a single sound, without a trace of emotion showing on her face, reached out and switched off the machine that was keeping his body alive. She placed a last kiss on his lips and held on to his hand until Flak had stopped breathing.
That time, Sandy hadn’t had anyone to hold on to as she watched the earth falling onto the man she had loved. Cathy stood beside her, but to Harkness it had seemed even then that there had been a wall between the two women. Looking back, maybe she had already been on her way, too.
Cathy had left her to her grief after a while and again, Harkness had offered her his arm. “I’m sorry” , he had said. Cathy had just shrugged. “I knew I was gonna lose them all, I knew it since the day we buried Daddy. I would lose Pa and Mama, too. I just... I just didn’t know when.” She had looked at her mother, her eyes brimming with tears, but never spilling over. “She just loved them too much. I can’t understand it, and I never want to. I never want to love someone like that. Not if I have to pay that sort of pain as a price.”
Harkness had been worried, as much by her words as by the way she had said them. He had spoken to Angela, but she had just told him not to worry. “She’s still so young, Harkness. Don’t think she doesn’t grieve, but young hearts heal faster.”
A few days later and Sandy was gone, there had been no trace of her on the whole ship. In the end, they had found her in the graveyard, curled up on her side between the two low mounds that held the men she had loved. There had been no trace of violence on her body, and not a trace of drugs or poison in her system. Not a few people had said, back then, that she had died of a broken heart.
And Cathy... she had simply taken over her fathers’ business. She had grieved, but in the end, Angela had been proven wrong. Cathy had died alone. Aged sixty-two, she had died peacefully after a life that she had told everyone had been happy and satisfactory. But Harkness had never seen her with a boy or a man, and it would not have surprised him had he learned that Cathy had died a virgin. That had been twenty years ago.
Harkness looked up again from the flames he had been staring into as his memories had taken over a part of his consciousness. The three of them were still sitting on the sofa, and watching them Harkness realised that there wasn’t that much of an age difference between them. Amanda wasn’t much older than twenty, but the two mercs couldn’t be older than in their mid to late twenties both.
He wished he could have just told them, but these three people were not the ones he had known. They were what they were now, living their lives; they had to make their own choices and decisions and he had no right to interfere. Apart from that, the question remained if they would believe him at all.
He would have liked to think that fate had meant them to meet, but he had no way of knowing if that really was the case. It might be sheer chance. Yet the thought of them missing out on a second chance, even if they couldn’t remember the first one... he felt devastated.
Stronger than death itself 3e/?
When the news had reached Sandy she came to the clinic as well, and even as Harkness had prepared himself for her grief, she hadn’t even wept. He hadn’t been sure, and still wasn’t, if her stony, unmoving face and her dry, lifeless eyes hadn’t been actually worse than if she had thrown a fit.
A stroke, the doctor had said.
Sandy went over to the bed and looked down at Flak’s unmoving form. “A stroke?”
Preston nodded, looking more uncomfortable than he had any right to be as a doctor. But even a doctor could only bear to give so much bad news.
With a slow shake of her head, Sandy took one of Flak’s hands and kissed it, and without making a single sound, without a trace of emotion showing on her face, reached out and switched off the machine that was keeping his body alive.
She placed a last kiss on his lips and held on to his hand until Flak had stopped breathing.
That time, Sandy hadn’t had anyone to hold on to as she watched the earth falling onto the man she had loved. Cathy stood beside her, but to Harkness it had seemed even then that there had been a wall between the two women. Looking back, maybe she had already been on her way, too.
Cathy had left her to her grief after a while and again, Harkness had offered her his arm.
“I’m sorry” , he had said.
Cathy had just shrugged. “I knew I was gonna lose them all, I knew it since the day we buried Daddy. I would lose Pa and Mama, too. I just... I just didn’t know when.” She had looked at her mother, her eyes brimming with tears, but never spilling over. “She just loved them too much. I can’t understand it, and I never want to. I never want to love someone like that. Not if I have to pay that sort of pain as a price.”
Harkness had been worried, as much by her words as by the way she had said them. He had spoken to Angela, but she had just told him not to worry. “She’s still so young, Harkness. Don’t think she doesn’t grieve, but young hearts heal faster.”
A few days later and Sandy was gone, there had been no trace of her on the whole ship. In the end, they had found her in the graveyard, curled up on her side between the two low mounds that held the men she had loved. There had been no trace of violence on her body, and not a trace of drugs or poison in her system.
Not a few people had said, back then, that she had died of a broken heart.
And Cathy... she had simply taken over her fathers’ business. She had grieved, but in the end, Angela had been proven wrong. Cathy had died alone.
Aged sixty-two, she had died peacefully after a life that she had told everyone had been happy and satisfactory. But Harkness had never seen her with a boy or a man, and it would not have surprised him had he learned that Cathy had died a virgin.
That had been twenty years ago.
Harkness looked up again from the flames he had been staring into as his memories had taken over a part of his consciousness. The three of them were still sitting on the sofa, and watching them Harkness realised that there wasn’t that much of an age difference between them. Amanda wasn’t much older than twenty, but the two mercs couldn’t be older than in their mid to late twenties both.
He wished he could have just told them, but these three people were not the ones he had known. They were what they were now, living their lives; they had to make their own choices and decisions and he had no right to interfere. Apart from that, the question remained if they would believe him at all.
He would have liked to think that fate had meant them to meet, but he had no way of knowing if that really was the case. It might be sheer chance. Yet the thought of them missing out on a second chance, even if they couldn’t remember the first one... he felt devastated.