by *Keiran O’Sullivan
(guest post, by Salvek)
90306.0100
Before and during To Curse the Darkness and The Parting Glass
-=The Church of Christ the King at Turner’s Cross, County Cork=-
90306.0100
Before and during To Curse the Darkness and The Parting Glass
-=The Church of Christ the King at Turner’s Cross, County Cork=-
“Keiran,” Her loving eyes sparkled at the sight of her brother.
“Mary Clare.”
He offered her an embrace, which she dismissed with a tsk, setting off instead to fetch him a towel. Keiran removed the jacket he wore and hung it in the foyer to dry, as Mary Clare returned and handed him the towel.
Keiran dried his dripping hair and hands, then his boots last, before handing her the towel back. He reached into the pocket of his hanging coat for a few strips of latinum and placed them in the donation box.
“Can a man have a hold from his sis now, yeah?”
Mary Clare wrapped her arms around his middle, barely, and Keiran nearly lifted her off the ground.
“I thought you were gonna’ stay with yer wife yer whole time here. Not even see yer sister.”
“She’s sleepin’ in and I had some runnin’ around to do, so I wanted to say hello, a few prayers, and light the candles before I’m on my way.”
“So ya can’t stay long?” She asked, sounding disappointed, but completely understanding that a newlywed deserves to spend his time any way he wishes.
“’m sorry, Littlest.”
“Ah! Don’t apologize Keiran. Just tell me how the missus is.”
“She was hurt pretty bad Mary Clare, scared me to death. Nearly lost her sight but the doctors, God bless ‘em, patched her up right and she’s in good health now.”
“Good men then, your doctors, yeah?”
“One of ‘em is a hologram actually, dear.”
Mary Clare shook her head, muttering to herself as she left to take his wet towel to the dirty hamper for washing.
Keiran walked slowly down the center aisle of the church, until he found an empty pew. He slid halfway down, away from those walking up and down the aisle, and took in the view of the interior for several moments.
He crossed his hands on the back of the pew in front of him, and bowed his forehead to lean against them.
I rise up with God,
may He rise up with me,
may his arm be round me,
waking, sleeping and working.
Amen.
O my God, you love me,
you’re with me night and day.
I want to love you always in all I do and say.
I’ll try to please you, Father.
Bless me through the day.
Amen.
He lifted his head, and crossed his chest. His knees protested as he tried to straighten up from the tiny and low pews. It had been years, not since his childhood, that he had even attempted to lower himself down to a kneeler.
His father had insisted on it, until the day the kneeler had dropped on Keiran’s foot as the then teenage lad attempted to get back up from his knees. Mother had put an end to the kneeler that day, insisting that either God accept Keiran’s prayers from his seat, or the Archdioceses furnish them a large pew.
“Ma, I miss ya.” He said, as he stood before the Vigil candles to light the first. One for Mother, one for Carrick, one for Liis’ crew; one for her First Officer, and one for his wife herself, along with a silent prayer for the strength to always be able to give her what she needed.
“Don’t let these go out Mary Clare, not until I tell ya so,” Keiran asked, before explaining what each one was for. He gathered her up in his arms once more, before heading back out of the church.
Once clear of the door, he tapped his badge he had stowed inside his jacket, and was whisked away, back to the ship. His heart sank, for just a moment, to be back here away from home, where she was.
It was a brief moment though, as he reminded himself this was her ship, her crew, and that this was home, when she was here with him.
“Welcome aboard sir,” The transporter chief said, nodding his head to Keiran.
“An’a’thin to report?” Keiran figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Nothing major sir. You just missed Commander Blane. He beamed down a few minutes ago.”
“Carry on then.” Keiran slapped the man on the shoulder, and left the transporter room to track down Dane Cristiane, to give him a task for the next day.
“Really?” Dane asked. His shoulders started to slump, but he squared them back up immediately.
“Any scratch, Mister Cristiane, will be replicated on you in kind. Understood?”
Dane nodded, and returned to his work. For any other man the response would have been indignation. For Keiran, it was a deal, even if Dane was not quite dancing an Irish jig over it.
Keiran checked over the just completed construction work on their quarters, and reluctantly headed back towards the transporter room. He had one more task for the day, which he had put off.
Problems, to O’Sullivan, were best tackled quickly and definitively, but there are some things no amount of bravery or courage can prepare you for. These are events that you endure as best you can.
He stroked his facial hair thoughtfully, before he stepped through the doors, and relayed a new set of coordinates to the transporter chief.
A moment later he was back in Ireland, on a busy street corner he knew so well, in front of a door that he could never forget.
He prepared himself for the ring of the entry bell and welcoming voice of the man inside, sounds that Keiran knew would paralyze his heart.
He wrapped his fingers around the wooden handle. It was the last thing he remembered feeling in his hands, before…
Before she had died.
He pushed the door open, and the bell chimed his arrival with its sweet sound. How was it something so harmless could feel like a dagger in a man’s heart?
He had not been able to set foot in this place. Not after what happened last time he was here. But he couldn’t carry the pain forever, or the fear. It just wasn’t fair to Liis.
Maybe he should have known better than to let himself believe this time was going to be different, that she was going to live and be at his side. He knew in his soul though that if they went through all this a thousand times, that he’d never be able to stop himself from hoping this was the time they’d be together once and for all.
He’d rather the Lord strike him down right here and now than ever have to live without having that to believe in. Without her, there was no him.
If he was going to truly believe it he had to be here, in this place, and then see her safe and sound in their home later in the day.
“Glory be! Keiran O’Sullivan!”
“Good day to ya, Timothy. What’s fresh?”
“Carrots, potatoes, steaks, lamb, what’s yer pleasure?”
“As always, eh? Wrap up some steaks for me.”
“Well I’d be more than happy to, if ya’d tell me about this wife of yours. Yer sisters are all chatterin’ away about her every time I see 'em.”
The rain continued to pour down, as Keiran gave the shopkeeper the brief biography of Zanh Liis. His mind was not on the words he spoke, however. Rather, it was on the terrifying sound of every drop of water hitting the roof of the shop.
“Well she sounds just grand, Keiran.”
The old building creaked as a gust of wind hit the side of it, and Keiran’s stomach twisted in agony along with it.
“What is on yer mind, yer so quiet? Yer sisters talk more about this Zanh Liis than you do.”
“I’m sorry, Timothy. Have a lot on my mind, is all. Just, a lot of memories comin’ back to me.”
“Good ones I hope!” Timothy said cheerfully, as he began wrapping two steaks up in paper for Keiran to take home.
“Good ones,” Keiran said slowly. The last one he would ever have wanted to tell, even if he could, was Timothy.
Timothy's family had run this shop for seven generations in Cork, and Keiran never could have told the man that his last memory of this place from another timeline was running out the door, on his way home, to find that Zanh Liis had died in a raging morning storm.
The wind and rain kicked up once again, slamming against the side of the building. Keiran felt his knees weaken, as if he were on the deck of a ship being tossed around at sea.
“You best be gettin’ home to that wife of yours,” Timothy said with a smile, as he handed the package to Keiran.
“What did you say?” Keiran snapped.
“I said you best be…”
Keiran burst out the front door into the rain, prepared to run back to their home.
Not this time.
“Serendipity! This is O’Sullivan, requesting emergency transport to my residence! Coordinates 51.53 by 8.29!”
He waited what seemed like an eternity for the transporter to sweep him up. A moment later he was at his front door. His hand was already reaching for the handle before the cycle even completed.
At least the house was still here.
“Liis!” He shouted, as he burst through the front door. His heart raced as he ran from room to room.
Maybe she just went out.
He found her combadge, but not her.
He slammed his own communicator again. “Reece! Where is the Captain!”
[Whoa, hold on. Are you all right?]
“No, I’m not! Find the Captain!”
[Ok, relax. I’m lookin’. Bajoran in the Irish hills should be easy enough.]
Keiran rushed from window to window, looking over the yard to see if he could find her.
“REECE!”
[Ok, ok. I got her. Lifesigns are strong. She’s with Commander Blane, I’ve got his lifesigns too. Do you want me to beam you to her current location?]
Keiran slumped down to the floor and held his head in his hand.
She was all right.
She was alive.
This was not that life.
It was not happening again.
[Commander O’Sullivan?]
“That'll do Mister Reece. Thank you.”
Keiran sat on the floor for several minutes, just content to hold still for a moment. It was only now that he realized his heart was pounding so hard that his ears were ringing.
“She’ll be home soon, O'Sullivan.” He promised himself.
He could have accepted Reece’s offer, and probably would have if he didn’t know Blane was with her. Whatever they were up to he figured it best to not interrupt.
He realized he was still holding the package of steaks in his left hand, so he went down the stairs to slipped them into the refrigerator until later.
Tonight he planned on cooking her that meal she had missed out on last time.
He stepped outside into the foggy, chilling air, and sat down on the swing on the porch. He closed his eyes and just listened to the rain pouring down. It was a sound he loved so much, and always had. Until the day that it had taken her away along with it. Perhaps now, he could begin to find peace in the sound once again.
He didn’t know how late they’d be out, but as the rain began to let up, he wished for nothing more than for his memories of today’s rain to end with Liis coming home to him, safe and sound.
Darkness began to fall, and at last he caught sight of her and Blane coming towards the house.
“Liis!” He called out. He was desperate to kiss her, and apparently she was anxious to find him as well, as she wrapped her arms around him and held on with surprising strength.
Liis turned back towards Blane, and Keiran waved for him to approach, but Blane stayed where he was.
Keiran knew well enough not to question it, and said his goodnight to Blane from afar, before turning back towards his home. Liis held onto him with all her might, and Keiran held on to her likewise.
They walked through the front door together, and Keiran left the porch lights shining on for Blane.
“How was your day?” She asked, as the door clicked shut.
"It was a good day, Liis. A good day."
He swept her up into his arms, and let her speak not another word.
*****************
*Keiran O’Sullivan
*Keiran O’Sullivan
(as told by Salvek)
Honeymooning in Ireland
Honeymooning in Ireland